Your feet are digging deep into the ash covered ground, particles flying into the air and staining the orange boots of your HAZMAT suit with streaks of black.
In the distance, the sky has nearly swallowed the sun whole, as if it were a black sheet of paper with a needle pricking through the surface for contrasting light. There was not much difference in it and of the color of earth. Stretches of land that went on for miles in every direction all appeared to lead to barren nothingness.
[[Except...|Nameless One]](set: $name to "______")
To your right is (print: $name) who is also wearing an orange suit, but the visor on their helmet contained no transluscence, leaving you with nothing to gauge how (print: $name) was taking in the world surrounding you both.
You continue to stare, wondering if you should [[speak|Question]] to (print: $name) or [[wait|Silence]] for them to initiate communication.(set: $confid to true)
You press the button on the side of your neck, turning on the speaker built into the helmet. "Hey, (print: $name). What do you think of this place?"
(print: $name) turns towards you and responds, "It's quiet."
"It's nothing like Millenium, that's for sure." While everything out here felt desolate with no signs of life in sight, the reality of what existed outside of the bubble world of home made the feeling of isolation grow stronger.
"There is something beautiful about this place, Rowan," (print: $name) says to your surprise. "Maybe it's having to live with cold steel for a sky for so long but it's nice to see that a [[world|Horizon Light]] exists outside of that."
You then ask, "Even if there's nothing out here?"
"Yeah."
As strange as it was that (print: $name) took an interest in you all those weeks ago, this moment makes you glad that it happened.(set: $confid to false)
You stare at (print: $name), waiting for a sound, a remark of any kind.
You wait a little longer until you decide to look back toward the horizon. You think back to Millenium, the place you called home all your life. The confined spaces and rows of flourescent lighting did nothing to quell those feelings of loneliness. As much as you got to know (print: $name) the past few weeks, you are never sure why he took an interest in you in the first place.
Even now, the wind pushing at your helmet are the only [[sounds|Sounds]] you hear.{(set: $clean to false)
(set: $dressed to "none")
You wake up to your legs clenched tightly to your chest and your head pressing hard against them. Beads of sweat are racing down your forehead as your breaths come hard and shallow.}
The lights coming through your window burn faintly and with only half of them turned on. "It must still be around 0200," you whisper to yourself as you rock back and forth slowly, with the creaking noise of your mattress coming in sync with each motion.
You try to drift back to sleep, knowing that you have classes in the morning and have already missed five days this term. Your delinquency has already been harped on by the professors, not that you need any reminder since your [[mother|Mother]] already is part of the lowly "maintenance" crew that everyone else tries to avoid working for.
After a couple of minutes, you are able to [[close your eyes|Morning]] and fall back to sleep.{(if: $confid is true)[You then focus your attention towards the horizon, wondering if you could see what they saw.]
(if: $confid is false)[Neither of you felt like saying any more, so you focused your sights on the horizon.]}
The visor on the helmet started fogging up as your breathing began to slow and exhale with more strength. The scent of disinfectent and sanitizer started overwhelming you with the burning sensation of alcohol, almost enough to want to make you take off your helmet. Breathing in ash and possible remaining radiation didn't seem like a good alternative, so you fought off the urge.
Out in the distance, a shimmer of light glistened and grabbed your attention. You reached out to grab (print: $name)'s shoulder and shaked it.
"Hey, look over there."
(print: $name) turns his sights towards the shimmering light and began to press his button to respond [[when|First Shot]]...Eventually, (print: $name) says something. "It all seems too quiet over here. Doesn't it, Rowan?"
You pause for a moment before pressing the button on the side of your neck to respond, "Yeah. Nothing at all like home." The speaker on your helmet crackles with every syllable you say and you wonder if the words sound clear enough for (print: $name) to understand.
"Nothing at all like home," (print: $name) says. "Even after hundreds of years, everything outside looks like it's been swallowed by a gigantic cloud of death."
(print: $name)'s remark about a cloud of death makes you feel smaller than ever before. Having been born long before the [[world|Horizon Light]] was destroyed, this is all that was left for the taking.A faint bang sound broke through the wind followed by (print: $name) falling backwards onto the ground as if they had been hit with a sledgehammer swung at full force.
You head towards (print: $name) and look at the hole in the suit. Blood began to spurt out of their chest as it convulsed. (print: $name) trys to speak when you push their speaker button, but the only noises that come out are gurgling and spitting.
{(if: $confid is true)[You press hard against the gaping hole, hoping to try and figure out how to stop the bleeding, even if you know that it is a futile gesture. "Please don't die on me, (print: $name)." The responses continue to be intelligible as the pouring blood starts to cover your gloved hands.]
(if: $confid is false)[You start to panic and your brain starts scrambling for ideas, coming up with nothing. "God damn it, what the fuck am I supposed to do?" You press your hands against the hole, realizing that there is nothing you can do.]}
Being miles away from any medical attention, the only thing you can do is [[watch|Second Shot]] them die.As (print: $name)'s body finally stops convusling, you stand up and look at the corpse.
You begin to think about what caused this in the first place when the familiar banging sound bursts out.
You start to turn [[a...|FTB]](live: 5s)[(goto: "Waking Up")]Your mother, despite being about fourty years of age, could easily pass for someone twenty years her senior. The effects of working twenty years in every maintenance field imaginable, most of it spent in sewage and water, had taken it's toll on her. That and her constant state of inebriation off the clock.
The long blonde hair of her youth had been trimmed to a buzzcut that showed off the scars of when she got caught and pulled in work related accidents. Always wearing one of the three same jumpsuits that were given to her by the Millenium Employment Company back in the day, beaten up and tattered to near shreads yet unable (or unwilling) to buy something newer and perhaps more durable.
You find it difficult to call her mom due to her not being around to take care of you most of your life. Your teachers and professors were often better guardians to you even if you could only be around them a few [[hours|Waking Up]] of the day. (if: $clean is false and $dressed is "none")[A loud vibration followed by a string of beeps sounds off that it is 0700.
You pull yourself up from your bed and sit on the side. The strain in your eyes make your eyelids want to close and vision to blur.]
{(if: $clean is false and $dressed is "none")[You run your hand through your hair and feel the slickness of oil buildup collect on your fingertips. It has been a couple of days since you last showered, you think to yourself. You could go get [[cleaned up|Shower]] and out of your [[dirty clothes|Dresser]] or go out in your current state. Not like you really [[care all that much|Leaving]], do you?]
(if: $clean is true and $dressed is "none")[Now that you are cleaned up, you feel nice and fresh, ready to take on whatever the world throws at you. You almost forget to put on [[clothes|Dresser]] but decide that going to classes [[naked|Forgot Clothes]] might not be the best option.]
(if: $clean is false and $dressed is "casual" or "jumpsuit")[You are dressed but still feel a little unclean. It doesn't seem to matter all that much to you so off to [[classes|Leaving]] you go.]
(if: $clean is true and $dressed is "casual" or "jumpsuit")[Now that you are dressed and clean, now is as good a time as any to head off to [[classes|Leaving]].]}You head to the bathroom downstairs, noticing your mother passed out on the living room couch and empty [[bottles|Drinking Habit]] clattering against one another whenever her hand moved from side to side. You think about how well the soundproofing in the walls must be as her loud snoring seems to echo everywhere.
As you enter the bathroom, it always surprises you that it is sparkling clean unlike everywhere else in the house. Maybe it is work coming home but it makes your irregular trips here less of a nightmare.
You undress and head inside the shower. The sliding glass door catches onto the rail halfway through when you try to close it, as usual. After a couple of seconds, you get it [[working|Getting Clean]] right again.You head towards your dresser and pull it open, staring at the bundles of clothes available to you. Most of it is slight variations of the same one piece jumpsuit that is worn by all residents of Millenium. Off to the side are two sets of short sleve shirt and pants that could be seen as "corporate casual".
{(if: $confid is true)[You grab the corporate casual look and put the clothes on pants first, shirt second. Afterwards, you feel the breeze coming through the window and the hairs on your arm raise up. The scars on your left arm have faded. Even still, you can't help but hold that arm close to your body.(set: $dressed to "casual")]
(if: $confid is false)[As usual, you grab the one piece jumpsuit in all of its gray with an orange fringe glory. As you put it on, the fabric clings tightly to your skin, not offering much freedom of movement. Hand-me-downs from your mother's younger years. The only good that this offers is that the scars on your arms remain hidden from glaring eyes.(set: $dressed to "jumpsuit")]}
All dressed and ready to go, it is [[almost time|Morning]] to head off to classes.Some days, she cleans up her collection of bottles along with the rest of the house. Usually because the Recycling Department is calling out to collect and they offer up a decent amount of credits. In her mind, the drinking habit pays itself off, despite living in squallor most of her life.
[[Go back|Shower]]{(set: $clean to true)
You stand right under the showerhead and press the metallic looking button on the wall. A two second long burst of cold water falls onto you, causing your body to shiver.}
You then press a more muted colored button and a foam body wash dispenses from a nozzle attached to the wall. You try and cover your body all over with it before whatever amount of water is left disappears.
Another press of the metallic button and burst of water to rinse off all the soap and grime means that you are now clean.
You exit the shower and grab a clean towel from the shelf hanging above the medicine cabinet. You brush your teeth quickly before wrapping the towel around you and heading back to your [[room|Morning]].{(set: $goodbyes to (array: "Love you, Mom", "Bye, Mom.", "See you later, Mom.", "..."))
You head down the stairs and notice your mother still laying on the couch. The thought crosses your mind to say something, even if she is either too drunk or too hungover to respond.}
{[(display: "Cycling")]<goodbye|
Her grumbles in the background are the closest you are going to get to any recognition. You [[open|Outside]] the door and head off.}As much fun as it would be to run through town with only a towel or perhaps even bare ass naked, the morning patrol would be on you faster than your mother on a case of whatever spirit was her fancy today.
You do not [[want|Moment of Lapsed Judgement]] to have to spend the rest of the day in a holding cell, being berated about common decency, [[do you|Morning]]?(link: (text: $goodbyes's 1st))[(set: $goodbyes to (rotated: -1, ...$goodbyes))(replace: ?goodbye)[(display: "Cycling")]]
{(set: $object to "blank")
The second you walk out the door, you spot numerous amount of citizens each heading off wherever the day may lead them. Those heading to the left of you are going off to work for the more extensive parts of Millenium: Scientists, engineers, politicians, and the rest among that ilk. There are the "maintenance" workers but they already arrive there hours before. The ones heading in the other direction are those who teach or learn, eventually to one day walk where the older folk go.}
The clutter of people makes it difficult to distinguish any of them apart from one another, aside from height and hair color. Your eyes are still strained from earlier this morning, it seems.
{(if: $confid is true)[You start walking towards classes, the feeling of loose dirt against the bottom of your boots brings with it a crunching sound that couples itself with the collective noise of the surrounding citizens.]
(if: $confid is false)[The weight of the flourescent lighting bears itself down on you as you start walking to classes. Your head is hanging low as you try to focus your attention on the humming in your head. The humming is nothing more than noise.]}
{(if: $confid is true)[You [[continue|Classes]] on your way.]
(if: $confid is false)[You are distracted by a strange [[sound|Barking]] that you don't really recognize. But you should be [[heading|Classes]] for class.]}The Classes Building is ahead. Unlike the worker buildings behind you, which appeared to stretch as tall as the metal ceiling above, the Classes Building is only about three stories tall and six more deep underground. The further down you go, the higher on the learning totem pole one is. Almost like the system is trying to say something about life in a sort of totalitarian oppression type of deal.
{(if: $confid is true)[As you approach the imposing doors, you notice a pair of classmates huddled close at the bottom of the steps. [[Beth and Emma]], you recall. Beth's hair looked shorter than your remembered it being, yet still retained a nice light brunette sheen. Emma looked the same, although her jumpsuit looked to press tightly against her, showing off her figure.]
(if: $confid is false)[You recognize [[Beth and Emma]] standing close on the steps below the doors leading inside. You glance in their direction for a moment before walking off, hoping their banter doesn't become focused on you.]}
{(if: $object is "blank")[When you reach the top of the steps, [[something|Object]] hanging on top of the awning above the doors catches your eye.]
(if: $object is "bird")[A small blue bird flutters its wings. The way it does this is unusual, as electric birds tend to have a slight staccato to these movements, even with the newer models. This one has a smooth motion that flows with a grace that comes off as spellbinding. When your eyeline matches with the bird, the fluttering [[stops|Bird 1]].]
(if: $object is "paper")[A ball of crumpled up paper falls down right to your feet. You do not know if this is meant to be a note or a graded exam that didn't go as well as expected. Your [[curiosity|Open Paper]] makes you want to see what the contents inside are but you also want to [[respect|Throw Away]] the wishes of whoever crumpled up this paper.]
(if: $object is "boots")[A pair of boots hang off the railing of the awning. The approximate size of the boots look like they belong to someone who is at least five years younger than yourself. [[Children|Inside Classes]] can be quite cruel sometimes.]
(if: $object is "nothing")[The supposed object appears to have been a mirage. Perhaps the light reflected on something and gave the impression that something was there. What a waste of [[time|Inside Classes]] that was.]}You only heard barking on old audio recordings in your mid-level classes when they taught lessons on the animals of the old world. This shouldn't exist but you hear it loud and clear.
As you look around to see if anyone else can hear the noise, the crowd continues to go about their day. Is this just my imagination, you think to yourself.
You wonder whether you should [[ignore|Classes]] the barking or [[look behind|Behind House]] your house and try and locate the source of the sound.The space between the [[houses|Houses]] are cramped, leaving you to hold your breath to squeeze through it. You get yourself stuck once or twice but persevere as the increasing volume of the barking fuels your desire to find the source of the noise.
You reach behind your house, noticing how close to the wall of the city the buildings really are. To gauge the distance, you try and stretch your arms out, only for your elbows to knock hard against the cold surfaces of both sides. With that tight of a space to navigate, there seemed to be no way that the type of animal that would make a barking noise would be able to make its way back here, if they were not already extinct.
With the barking noise now more prevalent, you try and [[locate|Hidden Door]] the source, wiping off the dirt on your jumpsuit beforehand. To save space, all of the housing was built very uniform in structure. Two stories tall, two bedrooms, one bathroom, kitchen, living room, and a dedicated "work room". All of this favored the principle that families were only meant to have four people at the most in order to conserve resources as best as the Millenium system could allow. At least, that's how it was supposed to go.
They talk about how someday, the housing will need to be restructured to accomodate a growing population or there will need to be a culling of those deemed unfit to live within "normal standards". If the politicians could, they'd want to shrink everyone so they could fit double the people in the same amount of [[space|Behind House]] before trying to build houses on top of houses, like in an old song I heard once in the audio recording files.
It would be more comfortable a thought than having to kill citizens.You say, "Fuck it," and head down the stairs, open the door, and feel the cold chill of the air against your skin, still wet on some parts.
The crowd of people outside are slow to notice you, appearing to be stuck in the morning malaise. Wondering how far you can push this, you start heading your way to classes and now is when the eyes of the citizens have begun to notice you.
Grumbling and whispers among the crowds fill the air with a cloud of noise that hovers above you. You go to everyone around you and say, "Good morning," pretending to be oblivious that you are wearing only a towel. Their stunned reactions and inability to respond come off as if you had some fun for a [[change|Morning Patrol]].But then you hear a loud whistle, one whose piercing shriek causes everyone, including yourself, to wince in pain and cover their ears.
The call of the Morning Patrol.
When the noise stops, one of the members of the patrol tackles you to the ground, pressing your body hard against the dirt. The towel has already loosened itself and your backside is bare for all to see.
"Alright, pal," says the man on top of you, "Fun time is over."
Dirt collects on your lips and the taste finds its way on your tongue, causing you to spit in disgust. "You're gonna beat up someone who isn't even wearing any clothes? How pathetic."
The man ties some cuffs on you and makes you stand up, "Think you're funny, huh?" The other Morning Patrol man grabs your towel and tries to cover you up, not that there is nothing left to the imagination now. The first patrolman continues, "Well, how's about you take some time to relax in a cell?"
You want to respond, only holding back when you realize the question was rhetorical. The patrolmen drag you down to the Patrol Station and throw you into one of the holding cells. Cell number five. They toss you your towel and leave to fill out the paperwork.
This will be the moment in your life when things take a wrong direction and you live out the rest of your days just like your mother: drunk and destitute.
Click [[here|Morning]] to go back to before you decided to go outside naked and put on some clothes.
Click restart to go back to the beginning.
(click: "restart")[(reload:)]You walk behind your house and everyone elses, struggling to put together where the barking is coming from. No matter what direction you head, the barking always seems to be coming from whichever side the city wall is on.
"Wait," you whisper to yourself, "I must be missing something. Is there a hidden compartment around here?"
You press your head against the wall, hoping to hear the barking become more amplified. It is difficult to tell where in the wall, though, as it seems to be an echo now. Knocking on the wall seems like the best option to find the hollow space.
After a couple of minutes knocking, you find the hollow spot when the noise you make travels farther than you expect it to. There does not appear to be any handles to grab on to, but the seams on the wall become more noticable when the realization that a door is there becomes apparent.
"It must be under the ground," you surmise. And like that you start [[digging|Digging]].(live: 1s)[(stop:)Time passes by.]
(live: 5s)[(stop:)A few piercing noises come from the other side of the housing.]
(live: 12s)[(stop:)That noise can only come from the whistles of the Morning Patrol, you think to yourself.]
(live: 16s)[(stop:)You keep digging despite the whistles blaring out, making it feel like your head is about to explode.]
(live: 23s)[(stop:)You find a handle buried about a foot deep into the dirt. You pull on it and the hidden door props up. You notice that the size is much smaller than anticipated. Going through the door would be quite the undertaking of jiggling yourself about, hoping to not get stuck in the process.]
(live: 34s)[(stop:)The barking is now louder than ever as it looks to be coming from the far end of a dark tunnel. You made it this far. [[Now|Dog Ending]] it is too late to turn back.]You squeeze through the door, managing to make it in intact. Despite the size of the door, the hallway it lead to is much more of an open space. You are unsure if the designer of this place is demented or very loose with his mathematical calculations.
You walk through the hallway, blindly following a bead of light that you hope becomes more vibrant as the distance between it and you shortens.
(live: 20s)[(stop:)After what seems like forever, you reach the end of the tunnel and the light you were chasing after burns brighter than any you have seen before. You have to cover your eyes to proceed and find out where it all [[leads|Dog Ending 2]] to.]The light dims down and you notice that you are now in a small room with a gigantic control panel with all sorts of buttons you cannot fathom what each one does. There are also numerous monitors that show different parts of Millenium as well as locations you do not recognize at first. On the right side of the control panel is a map, which looks to show a fifty mile radius of the area around the city as well as two pictures. One of yourself and another of (print: $name).
Do you even know who (print: $name) is? They were only in your dreams, weren't they?
"What the fuck is this?" you say out loud.
A barking noise responds to your query and you look down to find a dog. Since the names of the breeds of dogs has gone from the sands of time, you cannot tell what kind it is. Only that it has light brown hair on top and white on the underbelly. There is also a headset attached to his head, which you notice when staring right at the dog's face.
Your attention turns back to the monitors, one specifically which looks like the desolate part of the wasteland from your dream last night. Worse still is seeing two orange spots in the distance. The image zooms in closer to show the bodies of yourself and (print: $name), the wind having blown a pile of ash and dust over the corpses.
"What does this all mean?" You ask the dog. "Is this all your work?"
You fall down to your knees and hyperventilate, unable to take in all of the information coming to light. The dog whimpers a little as he walks towards you.
You look up at the creature and he licks your face with his slobbery [[tongue|Dog Ending Music]].
(live: 60s)[Click restart to go back to the beginning.]
(click: "restart")[(reload:)]The two of them were both born the same yearly cycle as you, 314. Beth was the oldest of the two by three months and seven more than you.
Back before insignificant things like appearance and social status mattered, the three of you were inseperatable. Your skills with logic puzzles and math in your early days went above and beyond the rest of your classmates. Most of them were annoyed that you were smarter than the rest of them and teased you for it.
Except for Beth and Emma.
They were impressed by your skills. Thinking back on it, it made sense since both of their fathers were engineers who who helped design the newest system of electrical grids.
As you got older, though, those skills of yours dropped lower in the social interest heiarchy of youth. Having a drunk for a mother didn't help things in that regard, either. As you observed the environment around you and those within the same age range, this seemed to be a [[normal|Classes]] occurence.What is it that you see?
Bird? Paper? Boots? Nothing?
(click: "Bird")[(set: $object to "bird")(goto: "Classes")]
(click: "Paper")[(set: $object to "paper")(goto: "Classes")]
(click: "Boots")[(set: $object to "boots")(goto: "Classes")]
(click: "Nothing")[(set: $object to "nothing")(goto: "Classes")]You look around, wondering if anyone else can see the bird.
{(if: $confid is true)[You grab the shoulder of the nearest person, an elderly professor from the look of it, and pull him over to the spot you were standing in. "Can you see this, sir?"
He looks at the awning, appearing puzzled before taking off his glasses to rub his nose. He turns to you and asks, "What is your name?"
"Rowan Skovgaard."
"Rowan," the old professor says, "You look old enough to know what an electric bird is. Don't waste my time with these foolish games." He leaves you to stand and stare at the bird again.
"He can't be serious. That definetly isn't electric."]
(if: $confid is false)[You look around, trying to find someone who might be easy to approach and ask them. One such person arrives: Your professor from last year, Ms. Shepard.
You come over and introduce yourself, "Hey, Ms. Shepard. It's Rowan. Rowan Skovgaard."
She looks at you for a moment before saying, "Hello, Rowan. What is going on?"
"I want to ask you something." You lead her towards the spot you were standing in and ask, "Do you see that?"
She responds, "Yes, it's an electric bird. One that has nice light blue feathering. Must be a new model. Did you need to ask me something as simple as that, though?"
You think for a moment before answering, "No."
"Well, have a good day then"
She leaves you alone and you stare at the bird again.]}
You notice that it looks like it is staring right back at [[you|Bird 2]]. "It might actually be important," you say to yourself, justifying your resolve to uncrumple the ball of paper.
{(if: $confid is true)[There appears to be a lot of scrambled words and numbers all over the paper. Lines of code, maybe? For what purpose would this sort of thing be?
"Oh, well." You toss the paper in the nearest trash bin and head [[inside|Inside Classes]], "Not my problem."]
(if: $confid is false)[Just as you expected. A failing grade in Reading for a young boy named Riley Freeman. You throw the [[paper|Inside Classes]] into the trash where it belongs, becoming an accomplice to this crime.]}You fight your desire to peek into the piece of paper and throw it in the trash. You hope that someday, this doesn't turn into one of those situations where the next great discovery in food development or water conservation was lost forever because of your decision.
You head [[inside|Inside Classes]] the building.Double-click this passage to edit it.Double-click this passage to edit it.