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. The weight of this moment pushes down on you as if the suit was made out of lead.(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 Millennium, 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 Millennium, 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")
(set: $endingtwo to false)
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: 1s)[(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" and $endingtwo is false)[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 true and $dressed is "none" and $endingtwo is true)[Now that you are cleaned up, you feel nice and fresh, ready to take on whatever the world throws at you. You really should put on some [[clothes|Dresser]] first, though.]
(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 Millennium. 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 Millennium: 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.{(set: $endingtwo to true)
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]].Time passes by.
A few piercing noises come from the other side of the housing.
That noise can only come from the whistles of the Morning Patrol, you think to yourself.
You keep digging despite the whistles blaring out, making it feel like your head is about to explode.
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.
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 Millennium 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.Everytime you came into the building, the first thought that comes to your head is "sterile" as all of the walls, floors, and ceiling are the brightest of whites. The only thing that isn't white in this place is the black lettering that is plastered on the side of each room's entryway. Anything that detracts from the cleanliness gets washed off by the many of the maintenance crew when the students are off learning in the hour blocks.
Hanging off the ceilings are signs that tell you where to go, because otherwise it would be impossible to navigate. Even though you've been in this place for many years, you still need the signs to find your way down to the bottom floor.
There are two ways to go downstairs: the emergency [[stairwell]] that unlike the rest of the building is in a state of disrepair or the [[elevator]] that you know will always be crowded.The eyes look far unlike you would expect from a bird, mechanical or not. More like human eyes, you think to yourself.
The more you focus on them, the world around you disappears as if the creature is trying to take you somewhere. Where it leads is unknown but part of it is [[familiar|Flashback]] in a way. You are now in a white room that screams sterilized, where the scent of many waves of disinfections flutters all over. Five sets of orange HAZMAT [[suits|Suits]] hang off on the side of the wall. Doors on both sides look heavy set and locked with multiple security measures.
You turn around and see yourself sitting on a bench. Something is off here, as your hair reaches your shoulders, much longer than it has been in recent memory. The top half of your jumpsuit is hanging off your waist, revealing the white shirt you were wearing underneath it. There is a look of determination on the eyes of this version of you, and you wonder why this is like that.
You then start moving around, not of your own free will. You hear the other version of yourself talking to you, "What do you expect to see out there, (print: $name)?"
A responding voice resonates through you, and you realize that you are playing (print: $name) here, in whatever this is supposed to be. "I don't know, Rowan. But there is [[something|Flashback 2]] out there I know isn't right."
"Like what?"The suits look new, or at least only about five years old. The untouched nature of the suits are coupled by the collection of dust on each one. For being all about keeping things clean and sterile, you would expect these to be cleaned and maintained more often than they are.
They look to be a one size fits all type of deal where there are spaces around the joints of arms and legs that expand or contract based on the height of the wearer. You wonder what kind of material the suit would have to be made of in order to be a sealed product.
There are also oxygen tanks that can be attached to the back of the suit placed on top of the locker, along with the helmet.
[[Go Back|Flashback]]{(set: $name to "S_____")
The vessel you are in turns their head around, looking at the door leading to outside the comfort of Millenium. Not many people in the past two hundred years or so have been out there and even less have talked about what everything is like. The most consistent thing is that everything looks like death consumed the world and the sun is barely visible in the sky.}
The voice of (print: $name) says, "I think something out there is controlling me. Not literally controlling me, but like it has a guiding hand on who I am and what I am going to do."
"Like a god of some kind?" the other you asks.
"Not a god in the omniscient, omnipresent sense. More like how there are people whose job it is to watch over people to make sure nothing goes wrong in whatever plan they concocted." You are putting on one of the suits, the air that came out of the locker smelling old and stale. "I told you about my dreams, right?"
"I remember, (print: $name). Something about a cave and an old man, right?"
"Yeah, but it never felt like a dream. I think I have been there before but I can't [[remember|Back To Reality]]. Like someone doesn't want me to." You put on your helmet, the visor of which fogs up from (print: $name)'s heavy breathing. You press the button on the side of your neck to turn on the speaker and the voice says, "I need your help with this, Rowan."
The hand then turns to the door and starts pressing the buttons on the numerical keypad lock. Six, four, one, five... All of a sudden, you are back to standing in front of the Classes Building being pushed forward by a hard shove from someone's shoulder. It takes you a while to get readjusted to being in control of your body and you don't catch sight of the prepetrator of the hit. You look back up at the awning above and notice that the bird is no longer there.
"That was strange. What in the hell was that?"
You think about it for a moment before the sound of the morning bell blares through the air. The thinning crowd heading into the [[building|Inside Classes]] feels like a good place to hide as head inside to class.The door to the stairwell is unlike the rest of the building: in a state of decay and washed colors of red and grey. It reflects the fact that it has become a sort of skeleton in the closet of sorts for Millenium, which praises itself on always running, one hundred percent, day or night. Yet because it is a blight on the society, there is no better place to hide or escape.
You open the door and the wafting air breezes by you, bringing with it the smell of rust and mildew. Having gotten used to it over the years, the stench does not have the power it once held, but you still want to get through this place as soon as you can.
You rush down the stairs, the pattern of the footsteps almost like a quick one-two, one-two rhythm as you descend.
It does not take you long to reach the [[bottom floor|Classroom]], although your {
(if: $dressed is "casual")[shirt has sweat stains on the bottom.]
(if: $dressed is "jumpsuit" or "none")[jumpsuit has sweat stains under your arms.]}As you expect, the elevator is quite full, with multiple students huddled close together, right at about elbow to elbow. {
(if: $confid is true)[You squeeze your way through the crowd and try to find your way to the back of the elevator. With your back pressed against the wall, you feel more at home, even as the heavily lit room causes everyone to sweat like crazy. You wonder if the air conditioning is still "in progress" or they gave up on it.]
(if: $confid is false)[You move through the crowd, struggling to make your way to the back. Stuck between the multitudes of students, the lights above heat the room enough to make everyone sweat like crazy. The air conditioning is never going to get installed, you think.]}
There are stops on every floor, with many people exiting and making the elevator slightly more roomy. You could actually extend your elbows out before touching another person now. By the time you reach the bottom floor, the number of students have dwindled significantly but everyone, including yourself, looks like they have been working out for at least two hours beforehand. You can feel the back of your {
(if: $dressed is "casual")[shirt stick to your back.]
(if: $dressed is "jumpsuit" or "none")[jumpsuit stick to your back even more than usual.]}
You can't wait to get to [[class|Classroom]] now.Room 612. It was probably the nicest room of the bunch, as the lights here were dimmed more than any other. You go to your [[seat|Seat]] along the back corner and turn on the tablet in the desk. {
(if: $object is "bird")[After initially putting in the wrong number combination for your ID, the second set of 94711 unlocks the screen and you are ready to go.]}
The screen doesn't have much on it aside from a few shortcuts leading to lesson plans and access to your [[grades|Grades]]. You wait for the professor to assign some classwork instead of talking about her day and what is going on with her husband. While that is going on, you think about [[taking a quick nap|Flashback B]], or hoping that she will tire of talking about herself and get to [[teaching|Paper Ending 1]].Along with the dimmed lighting, one of the good things about room 612 is that it is a corner room where the back wall only has dirt on the other side of it. In a class of about thirty people, you lucked out on your seat being in the back as it was assigned by last name. It made it easier to not pay attention to whatever was going on in the front of the [[room|Classroom]]. Although on these tablets that are built into the desk don't allow for much procrastination.You look up your grades by pressing on the shortcut with your finger.
A window pops up with a simple collection of text of your name, age, class, and then grade.
It says "average" with your assignments that have been graded listed underneath. Back in your younger years, that "average" status would have damaged your ego more but it doesn't seem to matter all that much these days. You still need to do your [[classwork|Classroom]], though, if you don't want to deal with the Morning Patrol or have to work in maintenance.{(if: $object is "bird")[You rest your chin under your hand and the classroom slowly disappears as you close your eyes. Your mind tries to piece together what was going on with earlier today and you go back to wherever it was you were [[before|Flashback B2]] being snapped back to reality.]
(else:)[You rest your chin under your hand and your eyelids weigh heavy. There is not much to worry about here as you feel that whatever assignment the professor throws at you might not take as long as you expect it to. Even if you fall asleep for a moment, there is a good chance that the tablet in your desk will wake you up with an alarm for the next [[assignment|Finish Classwork]].]{(if: $confid is true and $object is "paper")[After a while, the professor starts assigning classwork and the window to said work flashes on the tablet. There is a lot of coding to sift through and figure out what needs to be fixed for the program to run properly. A lot of [[busywork|Paper Ending 2]] but something that shouldn't take too long.]
(if: $confid is false and $object is "paper")[The professor finally stops talking about herself and start assigning classwork to everyone. The loud clattering of keyboards fills the room as you look at the screen in front of you. It's math, which is your specialty, and because of that, you feel like you can take it [[easy|Finish Classwork]] right now.]
(if: $object is "boots" or "nothing")[The professor finally stops talking about herself and start assigning classwork to everyone. The loud clattering of keyboards fills the room as you look at the screen in front of you. It's math, which is your specialty, and because of that, you feel like you can take it [[easy|Finish Classwork]] right now.]You think back to the sheet of paper you threw out earlier today as the coding assignment begins to take longer than you expected. There are parts here that seems to look similar to what was on the paper.
"Shit... I think I may have screwed myself over throwing that paper away," you say to yourself, hoping the professor wasn't in earshot.
That sheet of paper ended up being far more important than just a simple class assignment. It was the final coding for what would have been the newest model of water conservation for Millenium, which would have come in handy within the next twenty years. The designers of the code struggle to figure out what made that specific one work and cannot solve the conundrum for the rest of their lives.
This leads to a water crisis that ends up causing Millennium to fall apart, a war breaking out between the citizens that leads to half the population being killed off, including yourself. You will die from a virus inherited by drinking contaminated water. It was a painful ordeal.
The surviving citizens, unable to rebuild society, become fractured groups that fight for the dwindling resources, lasting for only a few more years before the remnants of Millennium die off for good.
Who would have thought?
Click restart to go back to the beginning.
(click: "restart")[(reload:)]
It takes you a moment to figure out who you are this time, realizing upon looking at the darked visor of the person next to you that you are playing yourself. (print: $name) is fiddling about with the locks to the door outside. They seem to know what they are doing, even though thinking about it, why would (print: $name) know how to get out of Millennium?The rest of the day goes by smoothly as you finish your classwork on time. Everything else ends up being okay, at least until you run into Emma.
{(if: $confid is true)[The bundle of the crowd does not feel enough of a wall to avoid her. You share glances with one another, her eyes blazing with cinder flames that know that this gesture can get under your skin. Her voice follows, "Still a loner, Rowan? By choice or just cause no one likes you?"]
(if: $confid is false)[The bundle of the crowd does not feel enough of a wall to avoid her. You turn your head to avoid her gaze, which you can feel the intense blaze on your skin. You push yourself through the crowd, hoping that Emma doesn't bother following you. Still you hear her voice, "God, Rowan. You can't really be that afraid of me, can you?"]}
Feeling like you need to respond to her before you can pass through the ever growing crowd of people, you think about a [[quick|Quiet Response]] line just to get out of there or something a little more [[searing|Loud Response]].{(if: $confid is true)["Could you just leave me alone today, Emma. I'm not really in the mood." An opening appears and you make your way [[out|Heading Home]] of there before she could respond.]
(if: $confid is false)[You play into her ego by saying, "Of course, Emma. Now I got to head home." You force yourself through everyone and start making your way [[home|Heading Home]].]}{(if: $confid is true)[You turn over to Emma and shout at her, "Just shut the fuck up. Will you, Emma?"]
(if: $confid is false)[You look towards her direction but never directly looking at Emma. Your voice blurts out when you expect to say something under your breath, "Why would I be afraid of you, you stupid bitch?" Realizing what you just said, you immediately stop in your tracks and regret everything that just happened.]}
{(if: $confid is true)[Emma looks at you with a shocked look in her face, her hand brushing away the hair from her face. "Well someone is clearly in one of their moods. I'm sure Beth would love to [[hear|Loud Response 2]] about this.]
(if: $confid is false)[Emma grabs your shoulder and turns you so that you are facing one another, "What did you just [[call|Stupid Bitch]] me?"]}You leave the Classes Building as fast as you can, wanting just to get out of there and go home. Not because of that brief encounter with Emma but because there isn't much to do around here after class is over. The confines of home, no matter how destitute it may be, makes for a better place to be.
You arrive at home just as the lights start dimming down. You head inside and look at the couch in the living room, finding that your mother is still laying there. The clattering sound of bottles is no longer there so she must have moved around at least a little during the [[day|The End?]].You head to the kitchen and grab a couple of food cubes, placing them on a tray and dropping some water on them. The cubes swell up and turn into flavored paste that is supposed to be meant for consumption but are only meant for people who are stuck on ration plans and can't afford anything better.
You quickly eat the paste, barely able to swallow the combination of beets, oranges, and grasshopper flour bread. The gritty texture doesn't help making the process of eating any easier.
After that, you throw the tray into the sink and head upstairs to your room. For some reason, you don't have much energy and decide to lay down in bed and sleep for a while. {
(if: $object is "bird")[Part of you feels like you forgot about something but that can probably wait until tomorrow, can't it?]}
Sleep might be the best thing at the moment.
Although is this really how the day is going to [[end|The End?2]]?If you made it here, then there is more to this game that you haven't gotten to.
Sorry for breaking the illusion here but I am tired and working as much as I can to get this done.
Click restart to start over.
(click: "restart")[(reload:)]"Yeah, I'm sure Beth wants to know that stuff. Like you don't have other stuff on me to make fun of."
Emma responds, "Eh, whatever," and starts walking away. You are not sure what exactly happened there but you are glad it is [[over|Heading Home]].You are standing there, turning your head around as the crowd starts focusing on the two of you. Emma yells at you, "Again, what did you just call me?"
You stutter for a moment before just telling her the truth, "I called you... a stupid... bitch."
Emma's face starts turning red and she slaps you in the face before saying, "Well, fuck you too."
You stand there a moment to take in what just happened. Then without thinking about it, you slap Emma back. At least that's what you think you did at first. What you actually did was take a powerful swing that caused her to fall backwards and onto the floor. A small puddle of blood begins to pool under her nose and seeps between her fingertips. You see Beth come towards Emma and she sits next to her friend to console her.
"What the fuck is wrong with you, you fucking psycho?" Beth says, looking like she wants to kill you right then and there. But she won't have enough time to do that, as the nearest professors along with an officer of the Morning Patrol takes a hold of you and whisks you off for a future trip to a holding cell.
This incident leads to you working in maintenance for the rest of your life. You live in deeper squallor than your mother did and end up dying of alcohol poisoning at the age of 42.
Click restart to try again.
(click: "restart")[(reload:)]