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File 143541057173.jpg - (391.15KB, 1402x2414, ow02.jpg) [iqdb]
You can feel an odd sensation coursing through every nerve of your body, transmitting erratic signals from every fiber of your being. Strange, you are unable to trace the origins of why every axon in your nerves are screaming out for mercy, wrapping your body in such unpleasant turmoil. Perhaps it is the pharmaceuticals that you have only recently discovered were sugar pills. Perhaps it is the lack of sleep locking your cranium in a metaphorical sleeper hold.

Perhaps it is because you bashed your head onto the edge of the cold metal table and subsequently lapsed into unconsciousness. You're hedging your bet on the last option but really it could have been a magic spell, for all you know.

Hmm. What did you know, exactly? A faint wave of panic flashes through your body and you inadvertently reach for your medication, twisting the plastic white cap of the orange container open. A full second passes before you drop the cap on the table and set the medication aside, knowing full well that the pills contain nothing but a rather dense concentration of fructose.

You keel over, paying your dear respects to the scattered mass of newspaper articles sprawled all over the floor. Swallowing your saliva, you dab your forehead with the front page of the local newspaper, smudging your face with stray ink. As your vision clears, the headline, “Diplomatic Relations with... (cont.)” underneath the latest celebrity scandal briefly enters your sight before the sweat smears the title away.

A lone coat rack stands tall amidst the blotchy newspaper sheets. Or perhaps it only looks tall because you are lying prone face-down in ink print. Nevertheless, you grasp at the base, searching for foundation to hoist yourself upright. Your legs wish to cooperate but are too clumsy to be useful. Just when you manage to stand your knees wobble and you gash your shirt sleeve on the coat rack's hook, obliterating the hem of the cuff. No matter.

The world teeters as you stumble toward the armchair, only coming to a full stop as you haul your body onto the shabby piece of furniture. You've come to. With regained motor control, you wheel yourself over to the dull hum of the monitor, stirring the beast awake with a shake of the mouse.

And this is where I make my entrance. Hello~!

You seem appropriately confused, as if you were not expecting a response. Oh? Were you not? Your horrified, trance-like expression tells me no. Wait, do not turn off the computer! A hard reset will not do anything, sorry~

You give me a wistful groan, as if you were fed up with me already. Aha, was I right? Oh... I was? Rude.


[ ] What are you?
[ ] Could you please leave?
[ ] How was your day?
[ ] Could you perhaps be a cute female?
Forgive me, for I may not have a proofreader for this entire story.
[X] Could you perhaps be a cute female?
Nothing like a cute female to make your day all brighter.
[x] What are you?

Dual protagonist (?) is a go.
[x] Could you please leave?
[X] Could you perhaps be a cute female?
[x] Could you perhaps be a cute female?

Does this mean no more Leo?
[X] How was your day?
File 143547323792.jpg - (380.27KB, 2112x2816, bd11.jpg) [iqdb]
Aha. Was it that obvious? Did my textual mannerisms clue you in? But flattery will get you nowhere. If my secondary sources are correct, “~” is a clear indication of cute females! What!? Citation needed? Isn't that what Wikipedia is for? Oh, was I mistaken? Pointless drivel aside, I came up to check up on you to see if you were okay.

“Okay from what?” Isn't it painfully obvious?



You glare at me. I'll stop with the ellipses now.

But do you not really know?

Well, maybe that's for the

Oops, typo. So what now? Ehhh? You don't even know that?

You really don't. Since emerging from your concussion-induced slumber you do not recognize your current whereabouts nor do you recall what you were doing. You do a quick survey of the area. Metal table, metal storage facility, metal walls, and one metal door. The entire area seems to be... metal, worn down under careful administration. The furniture has dulled, with the edges of the tables smoothed out and the door slightly creased, wrinkled under constant wear-and-tear. On the floor are various pages of several different news sources. Picking one up, you examine its contents. Most of the paper is cut up and missing, but some parts are left untouched. The bottom right of the paper reads, “A Recent Influx of Immigrants Lining the Bord–” before it cuts off. Perhaps you were researching something. Maybe it was a paper for academia. Could it have been due today? Strangely, you do not feel any sense of uneasiness or urgency. Maybe a breath of fresh air is in order.

Waaaaait, where are you going!? You can't just leave! Err, why not, you ask?

I'll be lonely. What, you don't care? Well fine. Try opening that door.

You grasp at the hatch of the door, sliding the lever down. You pull, but the door won't budge. I quickly point out to you that underneath the handle the sign says “push” but you act as if you don't see what I'm typing out. After the second attempt, you finally push. The door shifts about three centimeters forward then screams to a halt, grinding against some obstacle. That doesn't stop you from another attempt at opening the door, digging your shoulder into the harsh metal.

Well, I told you. You can't just leave. You just... can't, okay? I'm sorry. Eh? Why am I sorry? A variety of ambiguous reasons. Brb.

You stare blankly at the monitor, still hanging onto the latch of the door. After several experiments, you have determined it to be nigh useless to attempt to breach without a proper medium of force. The communicative presence haunting your computer seems to have disappeared temporarily. A welcome respite.

[ ] Check up on the storage facility
[ ] Inspect the computer
[ ] Sort through the mess of newspapers on the ground
Please give this worthless author some time to get back up to speed with updates. This story won't last long, anyway.
[X] Sort through the mess of newspapers on the ground
[X] Sort through the mess of newspapers on the ground
[x] Check up on the storage facility
[x] Inspect the computer.

So wait, is the computer narrator separate from the narrator narrator, or is she literally writing all of this?

If not it might be best to make a distinction between her writing and normal narrating, like italics or something.
File 143556918442.jpg - (109.37KB, 850x306, 1102f.jpg) [iqdb]
Now that your motor functions have stabilized and your brain isn't reeling from head trauma, you decide to investigate the scattered newspaper sheets strewn out amongst the cold metal tiles of the floor.

All of the various articles seem to be from the front page but most of the information seems to be snipped away, leaving jagged holes where print-and-text used to be. Only a few excerpts remain intact. For you to be scrounging for scraps of information soiled by the ground, it is a pitiful.

One headline reads: “Talks of Occult Spreading Among Youth.” You dismiss it to be nothing more than a sensational tabloid newsprint. Next article. “Non-Country Immigrants Total 414,000.” You squint at the headline. If your memory serves correct, there was a similar article describing the state of immigrants. Gathering the rest of the articles, you head to your desk. And lo, the crumpled newspaper on the table holds the article at its corner. “A Recent Influx of Immigrants Lining the Bord–” You'll assume that the word comes out to be “border.” You still can't make the connection. Maybe these articles are what's leftover and what you were looking into has already been cut out. Perhaps you're going about this wrong. You flip through the articles again. All the papers date back to the last week of June 2015.

You narrow your eyes. What is the current date? You have no answer to the question. Your surroundings hold no indication of time. No digital, no analog. No flipbook calender. But you had your computer. Yet you feel strangely apprehensive about approaching the temperamental machine, no doubt due to the influence of the strange entity that once invaded your digital space. You temper your distress and approach the monitor. From the bottom right, it reads 1:09 PM, 6/27/1930. Unreliable information. An attempt was made, you suppose.

Hi, I'm back~! Don't give me that cry of displeasure! You're going to hurt my feelings. Listen, no matter how many times you say you don't care, I'm not going to go away.

...What? You have a request? For me? What is it? Oh. You wanted me to distinctify my writing? What good would that serve? Use italics? Like this? Or what about this? This!? THIS?

What do you mean, “I'm use-less”!? Oh.. I don't need the dash? Prefix? Suffix? Whatever. Useless. “Don't interrupt my work”? What work?

What work indeed. Right now, your work is to infer what work you did in the first place. You seem to have regressed in some sort of fashion.

“There is no work to be interrupted,” you tell me. I figured. So what now?

[ ] Converse. You have little to do, after all.
[ ] Check up on the computer's documents.
[ ] Ignore her and continue rummaging through the newspapers.
[x] Computer documents

So the paper titles are about migration? It seems we did a bit of that ourselves. But back to the paper... It seems that an influx of magical immigrants is fucking up Japan. Is everyone escaping from Gensokyo?

Ignore me, I love to make wild guesses with this kind of stuff.
[ ] Check up on the computer's documents.
[x] Check up on the computer's documents.

Hopefully we can glean something useful.

As an aside, I enjoy this computer-voice's sense of humour.
File 143563193192.jpg - (96.83KB, 407x640, love comma door.jpg) [iqdb]
You might as well check up on the computer's documents. You are not appreciative of the cyber voyeur being aware of your actions but you are rather strained on resources and information. You double click a folder named, “_1” on the desktop. But nothing happens.

D-Don't touch me there, you lecher~!


What? Don't give me that disgusted glare. Aah, as I expected, it is nowhere as near as effective via text, huh? I'm a nuisance? Wahh, I'm crying. ;_;

Hmm? No, see, “;_;” is on the approved emoticons list. It is standardized for international and non-unicode use. Again with the questions! No, I'm not going to use italics. Why? Because you can use them for em-pha-sis. If you put italics on everything, it loses its flavor, yeah?

Irritated, you double click the folder again.

Unfortunately, it's encrypted. Thankfully, it's only guarded by a weak password. I can probably brute force the thing and give you access. Don't narrow your eyes at me! I'm helping!

“Is there no notification box?” you ask me. Man, you're asking for a lot. I can't just give you a neat little pop-up that will tell you, “Estimated completion time: x minutes” you know. It could take seconds, minutes, or days.

...Eh? What was that? No, not you. I think I heard something.

You blink. The ground stirs enough to scatter the newspapers around the room. For once, you are grateful for bolted metal tables. You grasp at the clanking coffee pot dancing around the desk and nestle it in your lap. Idly, you dip your index in the black brew and lick the tip of your finger. It's stale.

just keep quiet ok?? don't panic... oh youre already doing that good. shitttt. Il'l be okay so just find somwehere to hide and don't move. quick. turning off monitor.

The screen shuts itself off into darkness. From the other side of the door, you hear the sound of grinding; perhaps solid objects being pulverized into lesser mass. You tilt your head, pointing your ear toward the door. You can hear something akin to sand sifting into the earth. Placing the coffee pot underneath the desk, you make quick strides to the storage facility. You grasp at the latch and pull but the door refuses to budge. Above the handle is a digital door lock. Perspiration lines your forehead now. It needs a set of four numbers, but you're rather pressed for time.

As you struggle, the sound of the grating door does little to soothe your nerves. You can hear the bolts from the entrance pop from their sockets. How horrifying. What a convenient time to have amnesia, you think to yourself. You try several numbers. 7309. 4266. 9245. Each set of codes returns nothing but a red X on the screen and a series of bleeps.

Frankly, you're terrified. Are you really going to suffer an untimely because you couldn't remember the code was left untouched, still set at 0000?

...Ah. You remember now.

It is as they say: fear is the ultimate catalyst. You input “0000” and the screen flashes green. The door clicks open and you waste little time shutting it behind you. As the door groans closed, you can see main entrance creaking open just a sliver.

Red eyes, perhaps.

Your breathing is particularly erratic. Palpitations swarm your throat, making it rather futile for you to attempt to swallow. You take shelter behind a cardboard box filled with processed tuna. From the outside, you can hear a shuffling of paper. After hearing the entrance door scream for mercy, you're upset at such a tepid rampage. You decide to retract your previous statement when a scratching at the storage facility door relapses your erratic heartbeats.

Then, beeping. Exactly four times before a familiar noise rings through the silent chambers. The same noise when you failed the lock combination. And again. And again. Repeat ad nauseam. Then, with neither pattern nor indication, the beeping ceases.

[ ] Approach the door.
[ ] Explore the storage facility.
[ ] Remain hidden and stationary.
[x] Remain hidden and stationary.

Always do what computers tell you.
[ ] Approach the door.
oooh shiny red button.
[x] Remain hidden and stationary.

I have a bad feeling about approaching that door. Better safe than sorry.
[x] Explore the storage facility.

We're hiding behind tuna. Or are we? Might as well look through some boxes, right? Either we find something helpful or we stock up on food/throwing distractions for if we need to run from whatever that was.
File 143573661795.jpg - (24.72KB, 600x190, always the door.jpg) [iqdb]
You decide your odds of survival increase exponentially if you remain hidden for a longer period of time. Perhaps five minutes pass. Maybe even ten. You are not entirely sure how long it has been – time is a foreign concept to you now. After an indeterminate amount of minutes pass, you are potentially ready to stand up. Just then, a green light flickers and the door swings open. Maybe you aren't completely ready. You remain frozen in place until a flash of white light fades in and out from behind the door. A signal? After gathering your thoughts, you are 99% sure that it is the computer. But is it worth the 1% risk?

You decide that it is. Otherwise you would be hiding behind canned tuna for the rest of your life. Tenderly, you place one foot in front of the other, creeping to the door. You peek your head out. The comforting glare of the computer monitor stills your shaking hands.

Hey! You're alive! You had me worried there. Thought it was gonna get you!

“What was it?” you ask me.



Dunno, lol. An animal maybe.

“It is unlikely that an animal has the capacity to interact with a digital lockpad,” you reply back.

Well, whatever. While you were busy having fun, I finished up the decryption! Here, here, take a look at the contents!

You upright the felled chair and slide yourself closer to the monitor. The mouse swings to the folder without your guidance. What you find in the folder are... two more folders. One is named “post_nw” and the other is named “monster.”

Both are locked, of course. Looks like it's a job for me!

…? What's wrong? Are you disappointed that we have to pop open folder after folder like matryoshka dolls? Eh? That's not it?

The “monster” folder feels out of place but you cannot decipher why. You feel uneasy, as if you were trying to remember a title to an old novel. No, that is not the case. “Monster” isn't right. It's something else.

A musty breeze carrying the scent of rust drifts through the room. You crane your head to the side, enough to see the jarred open door peeking out to the outside world. An alluring bait: to traverse the unknown. You take quick steps to reach the door, pressing at the handle. It effortlessly squeaks forward an inch. At last, some freedom.

Don't go.

You blink. Was that a voice? Could it have been her? You take a look at the monitor. The computer remains silent, typing out its inaudible words.

...Don't go. Please. Not now.

“Why,” you ask me, perhaps out of curiosity, perhaps out of agitation.



“Why?” you ask me once more.

[ ] Continue through the door, for now.
[ ] Shut the door, for now.
[x] Shut the door, for now.

We can't abandon our only friend! Well, half-friend. Quarter-friend?
[x] Shut the door, for now.
[x] Go through the door
Every meeting is a farewell, every person known is a person you'll say goodbye someday. We are like small boats, colliding with each other for brief moments before going back to our lonely vigil. But, in return, only we are responsible for keeping it afloat.

[x] Shut the door, for now.
She obviously knows more than she's telling us, and that pisses me off. I have a few theories, but as of right now we really do know jack squat. And besides, I'm not too fond of meeting that "monster."
[x] continue through the door

Lets do this
[x] Shut the door, for now.
She's the only person we have. If we leave her then we're back to being all alone.
File 143581971396.jpg - (78.39KB, 1920x1080, 01151430.jpg) [iqdb]
In a fit of curiosity, you glance at the door, wondering what lies beyond it. Despite your unabated curiosity, you tug at the door handle and allow it to creak shut. What was once a proud door is now a shadow of its former self with its bolts ripped from their sockets and its hinges completely frayed. One day, you will open this door again. For now, you'll make do in this solitary chamber of yours. Perhaps you are completely irrational. But it is fair: you are only human.

You return to the computer, waiting for my response.


You reply back to me with a curt hello. Without pausing, you tell me to listen to what you have to say. “Without any memories, I do not feel any attachment to the outside world,” you start. “That being said, I also do not have little attachment to you nor this place. You tell me to leave but you do not give me any reason why. I do not trust you. I do not know you. I would like a reason. Even a superficial one if you must.”

I do not want to be alone anymore.

aaaa, don't give me that stare. You are my only connection here. Without you, I will have no one again. Don't look so indifferent! This relationship is symbiotic. I help you, you help me. It's for the best, right?

“Then what exactly are you helping me with?” you ask. Well, what's easy! For one, decryption. And.


So what now?

You tell me that the question irritates you because I keep asking the same thing. I'm asking because I have nothing to do!

“There's nothing much to do here,” you mutter.

We could always flirt! What, that's not an option? Spoilsport. I'm sure you were incredibly popular with the ladies in the past. Not like you remember anyway. Who, me? I'm extremely popular!

You pull up her previous comment: “Without you, I will have no one again.”

Uwaa, delete it. That's embarrassing for me to look at.

Text is an amusing medium, you think to yourself.

Oh yeah. I forgot to ask. How did you manage to hide from the thing? It didn't seem like there was anywhere for you to go.

You explain to her that you remembered the storage facility never had its code calibrated, so it was set to the default.

So you do remember stuff! Good for you!

You only remembered under a potentially life threatening situation. You tell her this.

It's a start. Huh? “Future experiments can be taken to replicate this”? What, are you crazy!?

Oh, that was a joke.

I guess if we're not doing anything I could answer some questions. No, I'm not going to answer any of the important ones, teehee~☆

Ask away.

[ ]
[x] What is this place?
[x] Do you have a name? If so, what is it?
[X] Come here often?

Also, even though it seems like the kind of question that'll be considered important;

[X] What is this place?
[x] So Uh, what are you looking for in a man?

Getting Her vibes here.
[x] What are you?
Might as well go full comprehensive question asking.
File 143591833744.png - (151.93KB, 526x246, sachi.png) [iqdb]
You decide to ease the girl into your interrogation, starting with some noncommittal questions.

What am I looking for in a man!?

You are completely sure you did not ask that. And now you are being ignored.

Well, that's easy. Someone who looks like you, talks like you, has the same name as you, and...

Irritated, you drop the subject. Instead, you approach with a more concrete question. “What is this place?” you ask.

Well, if you must know, this is a research facility, fully equipped with a storage center, a washroom, and an undergr computer. oops typo.

You think that she seems to know a lot about the interior of the place. “Come here often?”

Whaat, are you flirting with me again? Well aren't you eager~?

You rephrase the question. “Have you been here before?”

I have, actually!

New information acquired. You are unsure what use this information will provide but you are grateful for any data you can obtain. “Then,” you start. “Have you been here in person or do you only mean through the computer?”

dunno, lol.

Frustrating. Even more so because you have no way to properly convey your irritation. You move onto your next question. “What are you called?”

Now, now. What am I called? Isn't that just a name? “Whatever”!? Names are important! Mine's Sachi. Oh, I already know yours, it's okay. Don't have to introduce yourself.

Sachi? You feel a twinge of apprehension at the name. You dispel such perturbations with a strong breath through the nose.

Isn't my name cute? You can even have a complimentary photo of me. Here~!

>Uploading sachi.png.

It is just a picture of a computer. Your computer.

Don't I look cute? Don't stare too much, eheh.

Never in your life did you want to strangle an inanimate object so much until this very moment. And yet... you might have. Placing the photo under scrutiny, you can see yourself in it. The only visible portion is the backside of a head but you do not doubt that it is yours.

You have but one more question. “Sachi, what are you?”


Not answering~

You expected as much. With that, you terminate the interrogation.

So, are we back to flirting again? Waaaait, don't turn off the monitor I was kidding! I'll get back to work. But we have two files to deal with. I can only try and open one, so you get to choose!

The two folders, “post_nw” and “monster” are currently un-decrypted.

[ ] Decrypt “post_nw”
[ ] Decrypt “monster”
[X] Enter "My Computer"
[x] Decrypt Monster

I do not like to go to heavy things first, but I don't want to get fucked if we lose access to sach- to the computer.
[x] Check the photo, how do you look like?Age, Hair, Clothes, etc.
[ ] Decrypt “post_nw”
[x] Decrypt “post_nw”
Monsters will find us sooner or later, anyhow.
[x] Decrypt “post_nw”
File 143599730289.jpg - (19.02KB, 314x270, 44fj.jpg) [iqdb]
Decrypt “post_nw”? Alrighty! I don't know how long it'll take, so please wait warmly. What, you won't? Rude. Waaait, where are you going?

You wonder whether it is night or not out in the outside world. You quell your fit of curiosity, instead tapping at the storage facility's digital lockpad. You input the code and the door slides open with a blip of approval. The entire area is barricaded by cardboard boxes of canned tuna. There are a few boxes to the side with packaged water bottles and several first aid kits. The contents are rather odd for a research facility, but you do not particularly care. Ripping apart the plastic from the package, you down an entire bottle of water. Lukewarm, but it is better than the alternative.

You grab a lone can of tuna and head back to the computer.

Whaa, how pitiful. Could that be your lunch? Ah, I didn't mean it like that. Not like my lunch was any better. Tough times, huh?

Gruffly gouging open the can lid with a pair of scissors, you are slightly ashamed at eating tuna straight from the can. The utter lack of eating utensils is disheartening. Though you did not want to admit it, your pride is slightly hurt. Not that Sachi minds – or notices.

And then, darkness. The usual hum of the dim lights fade into silence and the fans inside the computer cease their whirring. Without any source of light, you see nothing but pitch black. You crouch down and inch your way across the floor, careful not to bash your head in again. But you have no goal or destination in mind. For now, you will explore the darkness. When or if you get power back up, it would be in your best interest to look for a generator, or some kind of reserve power station.

The lights blink, each bulb slowly flickering back on. The facility revives, slowly awaking from its temporary slumber. You retreat back to the computer, tapping at the power button. With a low purr, the computer boots back to the desktop. You half-expect text to pop up at you but there is only silence.

A familiar noise echoes through the chamber again. A clawing at the door, perhaps.

[ ] It would be a good time to examine the storage facility. Again.
[ ] Hide behind the computer desk, though it isn't too big.
[X] Hide behind the computer desk, though it isn't too big.

Dark things may be behind that door.
[X] Hide behind the computer desk, though it isn't too big

The same thing never works twice.
[x] Hide behind the computer desk, though it isn't too big.

Rotate through every hiding place to throw the monster off guard.
[X] Hide behind the computer desk, though it isn't too big.

Self-preservation is paramount, at all costs
[x] Hide behind the computer desk, though it isn't too big.

And then after a while, hide in the same spot twice.

While I was planning on updating on an almost daily basis, I took the day of freedom off. Will try and post tomorrow.
File 143616038633.jpg - (71.43KB, 850x863, what's there.jpg) [iqdb]
You have little time to deliberate – the specimen behind the door will enter the premises soon. You make a snap judgment and hide behind the computer desk, though it isn't too big. You wish you had time for deliberation, but acting on instinct may be more beneficial for your survival at this very moment. In a hurried attempt to conceal yourself, you scrape the side of your cheek on the desk corner. Your clumsiness may prove to be your downfall one day. You pray that today is not that day. The door squeaks open and a misty wave of black permeates through the room, shrouding your vision. Lights still seem to be functional but they give way to the darkness.

Despite your impaired eyesight, you can make out a humanoid figure tracing out the contours of the room. It stalks the perimeter, keeping a claw on the walls. Its tail trails across the floor, audibly scratching against the metal ground. Once it reaches the storage facility, the thing swipes its tail into the door, cuffing the metal with a dull chime. The door creaks after the second strike of the tail. By the third, you can hear the metal succumb to force. Another hit and the door may crumble. However, the creature relents, instead shifting its focus toward the computer.

The thing steps lightly, for only the sound of its tail slithering across the floor is heard. It inches closer and closer to the computer desk and by extension, you, until it is about one head's distance away. You hear claws scraping against aluminum and a gnashing of teeth. Then, without further provocation, the figure slinks away, slipping through the cracks of the entrance. And with it, goes the darkness that obscures your vision.

You are now allowed to breathe. Be still, your heart. You head over to the door and latch it shut. It will do little to hamper the various intruders that have already visited your domain. What it does is bring you peace of mind, even if it is only fleeting.

You idly roam to the computer. Beneath the desk is the can of tuna, emptied of its contents. Interesting.

>Please wait warmly...

Fuwaaa, morning~ did you miss me? E-Eh? You did?

Um. I... I wasn't expecting that.

Anyway. Before the blackout, I managed to decrypt the file! Praise me~

waah, I was just joking, you didn't actually have to praise me. Hmm. Did something happen? I'm assuming something happened – your cheek's all scuffed. Are you okay? Was it the thingy again?

[ ] Ask about the blackout first.
[ ] Explain what happened during her absence.
[x] Explain.. Why can't w do both, I wonder?
[ ] Ask about the blackout first.
[x] Ask about the blackout first.

There's an order to things. Information first!
[ ] Ask about the blackout first.
Had a test today and only managed to update An Excuse for Aya (x1). Will try and update sometime tomorrow.
File 143658464119.png - (26.05KB, 659x379, post_nw.png) [iqdb]
Ah, a blackout?

dunno, lol. What? “Stop saying that?” Fine.

But yeah. I was sleepy, so I went to take a nap. Oh, right! Before that, I finished the decryption? Do you want me to show you? More folders, yay!

Isn't it fun~? It's like solving a puzzle or running a maze or breaking a secret code! What? None of those are fun? You're no fun.

You're making me cry here. How dare you say that to a lonely girl! Have you no tact?

Meh. Anyhow, I got the folder decoded. Looks like a lone folder called, “treasure.” Really, why even have a folder if you have MORE folders with nothing useful inside?

Within the folder is, as expected, another folder. You could stop the madness and give up this convoluted decryption process but your curiosity gets the better of you.

Yeah, yeah, I'll get working on it. What are you gonna do in the meantime?

You are not sure. Within the confines of the facility, there is very little to do, other than talk to Sachi to satiate your boredom. But how mysterious, this Sachi. She has been useful, somewhat. And she does stave off insanity by being a person to talk to. Frankly, you are happy enough to have another companion around, if only through an online medium. Still, you cannot help but feel uneasy.

Need something? I have nothing to do until the decryption is finished.

“Not particularly,” you drawl.

You wonder if you can meet her.

[ ] You could always ask.
[ ] It is best not to dwell on the subject matter.
[x] You could always ask.
[X] You could always ask.
[X] Thou couldst in alle tyme an inquiry givest.
You could always ask.
File 143663450868.png - (266.14KB, 600x458, 912.png) [iqdb]

[x] You could always ask.
[X] You could always ask.
I think our MC is falling in love.
Or just has a creepy obsession because he has amnesia and she's literally the first thing he's had contact with ever.
File 143687041548.png - (409.21KB, 1068x524, 11xx0v.png) [iqdb]
“Sachi,” you call to the computer.

Hmm? What ya want?

“In a purely hypothetical situation, would it be possible to meet you?”

It is possible, but that is the one thing that I cannot do right now. It's easier to pre Oh, “why?” you ask?

lol, dunn

Since we're talking about hypotheticals, if someone, hypothetically, told you that they loved you... hypothetically, how would you answer? Hypothetically, of course.

What!? “Hypothetically, you would crush their dreams!?” WHY!? Yeah, I'm a little upset! Have you no sense of romance? Oh, you don't? Killjoy.

Your hunger aggravates your belly, groaning for some substance. With little a word to Sachi, you make your way toward the storage facility, punching in the numbers. You make haste to the boxes holding food and drink. Popping open the lid of canned tuna, you devour the processed meat in little time. The deed is done, your prey consumed. Next, you grab a bottle of water and twist its neck, quickly putting it out of its misery. You take a large swig, downing half its contents in one go. While you finish the rest of the water bottle, you take a look at the sheer volume of boxes filled with canned tuna. There are enough boxes to feed one person for years. The same cannot be said for the water supply. The bottled water will last for a few months at best.

Though you are not eager to spend a few months in this facility, you are also quite averse to the thought of dying. The last encounter with the being that wrought darkness was not exactly a pleasant one.

In what absurd world do you live in, to be in constant fear of the outside and its inhabitants? Where is the world where students study, workers work, and researchers research? You are not sure. A lack of memory does little to soothe your burning curiosity. Since your rise from the floors of the metallic chamber, you have begun to realize that something was always amiss. It wasn't Sachi, it wasn't you, but it was the doubly ingrained fear and curiosity of the 'Outside.'

You need to take a drag... a drag of what, exactly? Cigarettes? A moment of epiphany: you are, or were, a smoker. Were you really one to indulge in such a self-mutilating habit? In your current state, even the thought of smoking brings bile to your mouth. You force yourself to finish the bottle of water and drop the bottle of water in a fit, leaving plastic waste on the floor. You are behaving irrationally again.

You take a seat on the nearby generator... a generator? Why do you remember a generator here? But lo, you are sitting on one. Odd. It is far too quiet to be generating anything, let alone electricity. The root of the problem is its active status: the switch is set to off. But should you tamper with it?

[ ] You may as well turn it on.
[ ] Leave it alone.
[x] You may as well turn her on

Could we ask about the generator? Of not, I'm sure that activating it could have no repercussions whatsoever
[x] You may as well turn her on

We know nothing about the generator. It's best that we turn her on before we do anything rash.
[x] You may as well turn it on.

Turn on all the things.
File 143692224042.png - (266.10KB, 638x363, begrudging laughter.png) [iqdb]
>You may as well turn her on
>turn her on
File 143692923613.jpg - (99.71KB, 810x1200, Her.jpg) [iqdb]
...can you blame him?
Well, She would certainly be warmer than that colb bitch Sachi. And she would certainly be the light in our life.

[x] You may as well turn her on
File 143748001916.jpg - (109.10KB, 700x438, insert windows login music here.jpg) [iqdb]
If you ponder the consequences too much, you'll be left doing nothing. So instead of dwelling on the subject matter for too long, you flip the switch up, causing the generator to stir from its slumber.

>Initializing generator...
>☢ WARNING ☢ : Low fuel or power. Maintenance strongly recommended.
>Battery life: [1%]

You are not sure what good a dying generator will provide you with. Why the generator is here in the first place and the purpose it serves, you do not know. The lights are presumably powered by some other source, since they were on before you awakened the generator. It does not seem like anything has changed except for the fact that the generator itself is now alive, whirring in its corner. You bask in the generator's muffled hums for a moment before returning to the computer.

Hey, what took you so long! I've been bored out of my mind while you were gone! Well, yes, I have been decrypting the files but that's mindless work. You did something, didn't you? Suspicious. And you know, the stoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The storage room erupts into a cacophony, exploding into a fit of high pitching beeping. In no less than a second, the entire facility shuts down, the place wrapped in a familiar darkness. The computer is silent, the light bulbs refuse to respond, and the area is pitch black. You steadily feel your way around the table – you do not wish to gouge your head again. With slow and deliberate motions, you wave your hand around until you touch the wall. Then, inching forward, you crawl to the storage facility. The noises were definitely coming from the generator, but you can't see anything through the darkness.

However, you are not required to. The lights flicker back on and the facility regains power. You hurry back to the computer and and power the machine back up. Instead of booting straight to the desktop, it presents you with a password screen. Without much thought, you type in, “sachi” with no capitalization. Only when the computer grants you access do you awkwardly realize that you shouldn't have known the password.

>Please wait warmly...


“What happened?” you ask her.

ever been hit by a sledgehammer? that's me right now afjghafgh yes i know thats not answering the question

“Sachi,” you begin.

[ ] “Have we met before?”
[ ] “Why is the password to the computer your name?”
[x] Have we met before?

Assuming the AI can't set the password itself, then this is the most likely choice.
Also, is it just me, or half the choices sound like lame pickup lines? Not that I mind.
[X] “Why is the password to the computer your name?”
Ghost in the machine.
[x] Have we met before?

I'm still confused about when she's talking and when it's standard narration.
[X] “Why is the password to the computer your name?”

This would give us more answers. If we are too vague then Sachi will just brush us off with "dunno lol"s
I'm getting the feeling that Sachi may be a shortened nickname for Satori.
Isn't it sad, Sacchin?
Pic related.
File 143760905955.jpg - (179.25KB, 600x905, 1428640697843.jpg) [iqdb]
>pic related
Did you miss something, anon?
File 14376140319.jpg - (124.19KB, 540x636, nothing.jpg) [iqdb]
No. That's the joke. Or should I say was? Because it's dead now.

Good job.
Tiebreaker needed. Calling on next vote and will get to writing soon™ meaning sometime tomorrow.
[X] “Why is the password to the computer your name?”
File 143812429652.png - (647.31KB, 1000x1288, An Outlook on the New and Alien_doc-.png) [iqdb]
“Why is the password to the computer your name?”

And for once, you are met with complete silence. No cutesy comment, no elongated ellipses, and no “lol i dunno.” You can only hear the hum of the computer, the speakers not blaring with the familiar bleeping of a message from Sachi. The unusual lack of response from her was vaguely... unsettling, for a lack of a better word.

“Sachi,” you beckon to the computer. “Are you able to respond?”

yes, she replies back. Her words are comforting to see. Strange.

Just give me a moment.
...Okay. I was a part of the facility's research.

You ask whether she was a part of the staff that was employed here.

No. I already know what you're going to ask. I'll tell you.
I was the research subject. Oh. For what? Well, that's simple.
The research was to figure out what I was. Anyhow, I have the next folder decrypted. It looks like we have actual content hidden within. The folder, aside from having yet another folder, has a document inside. Take a look.

The folder pops up onto the explorer window, highlighting a single Word document named, “An Outlook on the New and Alien” as well as another folder named, “treasure chest.” The document proves to be a rather hastily written article about how indigenous people must accept foreign culture into their society or risk eradication. The closing remarks of the article warn that the newcomers are the harbingers. The harbingers of what, the article does not say, nor does it remark on the nature of such newcomers.

The blood vessel above your left eyebrow throbs, sending neural waves of pain throughout your body. The waves prove to be particularly meticulous, thoroughly coursing through every possible pathway of your nervous system.


[ ] Yank the table's second drawer on the left, grabbing at the weak 125mg medication hidden behind the compartment.
[ ] Claw at the ground and pray the senseless mutilation of your nails eases the pain.
[ ] Grit your teeth and bear with the pain.
[X] Grit your teeth and bear with the pain.
We can't let ourselves look vulnerable in front of Sachi, after all.


[X] Grit your teeth and bear with the pain.
[x]. Grab. The weak medication

This could get worse before it gets better. And he kind of needs to be able to function right now.
[x] Yank the table's second drawer on the left, grabbing at the weak 125mg medication hidden behind the compartment.
[X] Yank the table's second drawer on the left, grabbing at the weak 125mg medication hidden behind the compartment.

It's only a placebo, but maybe it'll work?
File 143842417732.jpg - (29.06KB, 492x297, medicine.jpg) [iqdb]
You automatically reach for the table's second drawer on the left, completely pulling out the compartment. Behind the drawer is a bottle of tablets. How you knew the medication was hidden behind the drawer, you cannot say, nor can you say what the medication does. However, you pop open the lid and down the rest of the bottle.

Your head calms down in a matter of seconds, ignoring the fact that it is far too early for the medication to enter your bloodstream. You wonder why the medicine works if you acknowledge that it shouldn't.

And in that moment, you realize something that you should have realized a long time ago. This facility is familiar to Sachi; this facility is also familiar to you. You knew about the storage facility's unset code and you knew about the hidden medication. You speculate that Sachi was not acting overly-familiar – she was familiar. There is always a lingering feeling of recognition whenever you interact with her. Now if only your memory could confirm your suspicions.

You okay? I think you should go lay dow– no? If you say so. Hey, I'm just worried!

“Sachi,” you call her name.

[??] she responds back.

“I was a researcher here, wasn't I?”

yeah. Is your memory coming back or are you just guessing?

You admit to her that it is a little bit of both. “Sachi,” you begin.

What is it? Her response this time lacked both her usual enthusiasm and length.

[ ] “You're a 'harbinger' aren't you?”
[ ] “Do you have a reason to decrypt these files?”
[ ] “We know each other, don't we?”
[X] “Do you have a reason to decrypt these files?”
I feel like the other options are too vague and won't give us as much information.
[x] “You're a 'harbinger' aren't you?”

So... new name for youkai then?
[ ] “You're a 'harbinger' aren't you?”
[x] We know each other?

The other option is kind of accusatory and he did he's mostly guessing
[x] “We know each other, don't we?”
Requesting tiebreaker.
(Some comment about updating goes here)
[x] “We know each other, don't we?”
If I double-posted, blame my internet.
File 143912108557.jpg - (29.45KB, 366x326, fac.jpg) [iqdb]
“We know each other, don't we?”

You were the head researcher in this facility. I happened to be the second research subject. It's only natural that we know each other, right? Right, I'm glad you agree. Anyway, none of the researchers particularly liked me. Except you. You were kind enough to give me my name. I did have you narrow it down to either “Sachi” or “Niya” though. The other names were terrible lol. You absolutely, wholeheartedly, unconditionally loved me.

You shake your head at her, thinking it to be her usual mischief. “That last statement is a lie, isn't it?”

The computer gives you no immediate reply. Then, with a calculated pause, a response is given.

It would be much easier if it were a lie.
Whaaa, you thought I was kidding when I said I loved you? I never joke around.
Okay, I lied about that. But I was serious.
If only you'd remember.

You think to yourself that all these complications wouldn't even exist if you had your memories back. Still, your mind is hazy and your brain refuses to remember. But even at a time like this, your thoughts drift to Sachi. Perhaps it was always like that, even before you lost your memories. Perhaps you always thought of Sachi. It would explain your odd sense of security around the computer and her familiarity with you.

[ ] That's good enough, isn't it?
[ ] Proof is more reliable than word.
[x] Proof is more reliable than word.

This may sound as if we do not believe her, but I just want more details
[X] That's good enough, isn't it?

This relationship is built on trust!
[x] That's good enough, isn't it?
[X] I know I should be skeptical, but...
-[!] I feel safe around you.
-[!] That's good enough, isn't it?
-[!] I do wish I could remember though.

File 143981118432.jpg - (84.11KB, 500x333, clipboards.jpg) [iqdb]
That's good enough, isn't it? You may not have your memories back but your lingering attachments are proof in itself. You are positive that Sachi would have little to gain from lying to you about your relationship to her. It is possible that you may have been one of the researchers that were not too fond of her but then your mind and emotions would be at odds with each other. But you should not brood too much on the matter – you cannot prove anything.

I'm fine like this, though.
Here in this abandoned place, I can finally be free.
I'm gonna be cheesy, hehe. Every minute I spend here with you is a minute that I'm able to cherish without anybody else here to tell me, “you are not the same as us.” My heart flutters at the thought. Do you know what the others said about me? Well, I guess not because you can't remember. They said, “Truly the most horrific characteristic is its exact likeness to a girl.”

You ask her why the statement was so important.

You can't just ask that! Sheesh. They treated me like something to be studied, like I couldn't communicate with them. Every time I said something, they would just murmur and write stuff down on their clipboards. Aaaaaagh, it still frustrates me. You were the only one that listened out of those clowns. You were even kind enough to smile at me.

Where exactly has that kindness gone? Did it disappear with your memory?
What!? I'm annoying!? You're the one that's annoying me now!
no i wasjust kidding plsea dont turn off the ocmputer

You'd reply, but your head starts throbbing uncontrollably once again. You reach for the bottle of tablets but soon realize that its contents are gone. Your left arm jerks back and you quickly lose motor control. But the spasms die as soon as they come. And here you are, a huffing mess of a human sprawled over the edge of the table. In an attempt to regain equilibrium, you knock aside the keyboard. The escape key pops out and rolls under the desk. You were never one for profanity, but you inadvertently let a few escape through your mouth.

Before you are able to upright yourself, the facility blacks out, disorienting you once again. An unfortunate turn of events. You will take this time to adjust your eyes to the light, or lack of, while hopefully not bashing your head in.

However. You are unsure what to do afterward.

[ ] Search around. You do not wish to be idle.
[ ] Wait it out. The blackout will end.
[x] Search around. You do not wish to be idle.
[ ] Search around. You do not wish to be idle.
[X] Wait

Sachi likes us. We can't just abandon her, can we?
[x] Search around

We need to leave this place and take her with us. But how?
File 144117295021.jpg - (369.31KB, 850x1201, not actually relevant.jpg) [iqdb]
You'll search around. You do not wish to be idle. However, your quest is inhibited by your lack of vision so you slowly inch around the area, feeling out potential obstacles. You manage to get to the generator. The first time around, you were not able to inspect much of the generator. Despite your impaired sight, you investigate the massive power source.

The last time you powered the generator on, it had little battery to spare but the facility does not seem to take energy from it. You are assuming it is the emergency power source, but you are unsure why the generator had no life left. More questions you are unable to answer. Maybe Sachi knows. In the meantime, you'll power it back on.

>Initializing generator...
>☢ WARNING ☢ : Low fuel or power. Maintenance strongly recommended.
>Battery life: [0.200%]
>☢ WARNING ☢ : Generator at maximum heat capacity. Force-shutdown imminent.

The lights flicker back on, but they are much dimmer than before. You are sure that the generator will be dying soon. With vision restored, you open the hatch of the generator's interior. There are several tattered papers and a lone clipboard inside. Odd. You are not an expert on machinery, but you can confirm that leaving loose papers inside is ill-advised. You pick the clipboard up and inspect its contents. Most of the papers are tattered but the first page is written out in thick pen.

>NOTE: Alleviate rewired power with backup generator every other day.
>REMINDER: Replace 20kW every other day.

The generator hisses and whines, forcibly shutting itself down. And with the generator asleep, the lights … return to their full brightness. Seems like the facility has power again. You'll go see Sachi again.

I'm back~
Oh, you want to know where I went? Just took a quick nap. I dreamt about you and me, and me and you, ehehe.
What do you mean, who cares!? For starters, I do!
Listen, when a cute girl tells you that she dreamt of you, you're supposed to play coy!

“Sachi,” you start. Something has been bothering you. You need to confirm your suspicions. “Do you know anything about the generator in the back of the facility?”

Mmhm. I do!
It was for backup when I wasn't able to power the facility by myself! But now, I'm a lot stronger and I don't even need to rely on the generator anymore.

“Sachi... you're powering the facility?”

Yeah. I'm powering the place right now.
Before... this all happened, you told me about my powers. About how I serve purpose instead of being some dumb test subject. And here I am. Am I useful~?

Your emotions are in slight disarray. “Yes. You did well.”

Kay. Oh, I have a question too.
What would you do if you were all alone in the world?

[ ] You would struggle until you are not able to struggle anymore.
[ ] You would accept everything that happened and will happen
[ ] You would do what comes natural, whatever that entails.
[x] If I'm completely alone, I'd accept everything that happened and will happen
-[x] But, if I'm not, then I'd struggle until I'm unable to struggle anymore.
[x] You would struggle until you are not able to struggle anymore.
[x] You would struggle until you are not able to struggle anymore.
File 144212858841.jpg - (4.21KB, 128x121, 02.jpg) [iqdb]
You tell her that you would struggle until you are not able to struggle anymore. Even if you are alone, you would fight until your final breath. You pause. After a moment of deliberation, you ask her why she would ask this.

Well... you'll see.
The folder I decrypted probably has the answers to your question. You might know the author. Hopefully. If you don't... well.
I'll tell you.

Sachi pops the folder up in Explorer. Two files are stored inside of the folder “treasure chest.” One is a document titled, “Regarding the Fall of Humanity.” The other is a folder titled, “Sachi.” You have many questions, but you do not think that Sachi can, or will, answer. So you do not ask. Instead, you open up the document and inspect its contents.

The details are poorly worded and vague, but from what you understand it has to do with the “power to harness the supernatural.” After the emergence of a foreign species designated as the “harbingers,” humans were quick to study, document, and experiment on said species. The harbingers were categorized into three groups: sentient, primitive, and bestial. The rise of the harbingers divided the human race: those who believed in giving the sentients and primitives basic rights, and those who believed harbingers to be “useful.” Eventually, when researchers discovered harbingers held “psionic powers,” countries scrambled to accept sentients into their nation, only to perform experiments on them. Japan seemed to have the most harbingers – a clear outlier with a count of one thousand confirmed sentients. “Diplomatic talks” burst from every nation in an obvious ploy to emigrate the harbingers.

So. Figured it out yet? Do you remember?

You do not. Much to your horror.

As your last piece of research, you wrote this article.
Well, second last. Your real last piece of research is me. Your cutest research so far. So cute it may even be Nobel Prize worthy.

“Sachi,” you call. Every time you call her name, you feel subsequently more comfortable calling her again. “What about the folder inside?”

I'm not going to decrypt it.
Well, not like I can. It's not encrypted with anything. It's just locked with a simple password.
Can I unlock it? Sure. Will I?

It holds things I am unsure whether I want to disclose or not.

You feel a wave of guilt, mixed in with confusion. Despite this, you wish to know the contents of the folder. You know the password. You are sure of it. It had something to do with Sachi. A coinage. Another word for harbinger. It was not “monster” - that you are sure of. A word your foreign colleague, Ichiya, was so fond of.

[ ] ???
[x]Ask Sachi: "You 'kay?"
[x]absentmindedly type that in

(Yes, I recycled a joke from the first Momiji thread.)
[x] Type in Youkai.
As much as I would love to do that Momiji joke, now's not really the time.
[x] >>62247
If you can't smile at the end of the world, when will you?

We need to know if she 'kay.
File 144350745333.jpg - (267.63KB, 850x1202, sachi.jpg) [iqdb]
You, with an unusual disposition, are fiercely tempted to reply with a joke. You deem it non sequitur. However, your whims do not care for the likes.

With slight hesitation in your voice, you ask her, “You 'kay?”

You're kidding, right?
That's.... that's the worst joke I have EVER heard. I think I lost a decade off of my lifespan because of that. Oh, you're asking about my lifespan?
You already know, don't you? Hehe, well, I guess I was being a little overdramatic about unlocking the folder.

That confirms your suspicions. You waste little time. Navigating through all the folders that Sachi previously decrypted, you double click on “Sachi,” the folder. A prompt pops up, indicating to input the password. Typing in “youkai,” the contents of the folder are now yours to examine. The inside is rather bare, holding only three images. One of them is an obscure map. The image seem to be scanned, drawn on crude college ruled notepaper. However, the map itself is quite complex, having multiple layers of floors. At the very bottom, in thick black ink, it details, “Left on the fork.” Your mind buzzes with a sense of familiarity. Deep underground, you remember a girl. Enclosed within a metal chamber, incubated and alone.

The two other images are of a frail girl. The same one in your cloudy memories. You might say that she is pretty but that is your opinion to hold. One picture has her looking away from the camera with an uneasy expression. The other image of her has the traces of a smile creeping on her lips, enigmatically clutching a lab coat. Yours.

“Sachi,” you start. “Why were you reluctant to disclose this folder?”

I was hoping we could stay like this for a little while longer.
I guess I was only delaying the inevitable. Now you know my face – who I am, or rather, was. You remember me now, if only a little. Now, you'll be putting yourself in danger for my sake. Isn't that right? Following such a silly map, traversing deeper into the Chamber. Even though it's dangerous. Even though you know that the deeper you go underground, the more dangerous it becomes. There are beasts, no wait, harbingers beneath you. Harbingers that you have once known.You're just a human. Scared now? Frightened, even?
...Probably not, huh? Even so, are you still going to follow the map?

[ ] Yes.
[ ] No.
>Do it do it do it
[x] Yes.
[x] Yes.
-[x] But after I get more segments of my memory. Each harbinger probably had a method of avoidance, disposal, anything I could use to defend myself stored away physically, or digitally.
[x] You know it.
-[x] No harm in going prepared though.
>>62359 here.
Tack on...
-[x] But not before you ask if she is one of the youkai, and if we can meet her. Hopefully she's not Flan-levels of bored.
File 144446487099.jpg - (53.32KB, 400x300, the chamber.jpg) [iqdb]
Well, I guess I can't really stop you, huh?
If you're really that adamant about traversing the grounds, then I have no choice but to support you, right? After all, I'm the prize you're looking for, hehe. I don't know too much about the place – all I know is that it's dangerous. And if I'm not mistaken, the harbinger of darkness will be there too.
Eh? What's the harbinger of darkness? To be honest, I'm not entirely sure. I only remember bits and pieces from what you mentioned to me before you went off and lost your memories.

“Then,” you breathe, furrowing your brow in contemplation. It seems as if the harbingers are the greatest threat when crossing the Chamber. “What about you?”

Me? I'm at the very depths of this place.
The me that is underground is powering the entire facility. I'm not allowed to wake myself up though. Or rather, I can't. It's my purpose, I guess. I'm useful. And I'm okay with that. Ever since I got here, I had to let you protect me, tell me that I was special. Now I'm strong! Strong enough to prove those... other humans wrong. The you that had your memories and the me that was weak would have been proud.
Hmm? How can I wake up? Um. True love's kiss? I don't know, to be honest. I'm sure you'll figure it out!
...Well, I guess you're still you. Even without your memories.

Hey. I love you.
Haha. 'The thought is appreciated,' huh? I guess that's good enough for me.
So if you want to enter the Chamber, it's behind a few crates in the storage area. There should be a cellar door that leads down. I'll be at the lowest level of the Chamber. We'll meet again, yeah?

“Of course,” you respond. “We'll meet in person this time.”

Good. It's a date, then.

I'll see you again.

And with that, you bid farewell to her. However, now is not the time to rush – you must prepare yourself. You are not entirely sure what you will be preparing for, but it is safe to assume the worst. You scrounge around for a bag and snatch the pair of scissors you used to open a can of tuna. Not the most reliable weapon, but it is the only one you have. You pray that you are not forced to use it. Taking your dark brown coat from the hanger, you exit the main room.

Inside the storage facility, you snoop around the boxes, shoving tuna cans and water bottles into your bag. During your scavenger hunt, you spot a metal handle jutting out from behind one of the crates, so you shove the hefty box out of the way to reveal the cellar door. For a moment, you shy from opening the door, but you still your wavering heart and throw open the hatch, granting you entrance.

And into the Chamber you go.
Title drop! Shit os getting real!

Uh wait, I'm not sure of she counts as an OS. Well, whatever.
File 144471536531.jpg - (553.16KB, 1754x900, b0042ge.jpg) [iqdb]
The entrance is no more than a man-hole into what is presumably a sewage system. You cannot see the end save for a dim light at the very bottom, so you inch slowly down the metal rungs that grant you passage. With each step downward, your vision darkens and darkens until you are guided only by the slight glimmer from below. A few minutes pass before you are able to settle on real ground. At the very bottom of the hole is a door, illuminated by the light spilling out from underneath it. You wrestle with its knob and pass through.

Dim light-bulbs swing through the hallway, which is more stone than steel. The area is rather archaic, in stark contrast to the facilities above. The best you could describe the place would be a dungeon. And true to its dungeon-like appearance, the hallway is scattered with metal barred doors.

You investigate the cell to your left, creaking open the door just slightly for you to peer inside. A putrid wind escapes from within, causing your body to reel back instinctively. You pinch your nose and take another look. Alone in the room is a rotting corpse. The body has been decomposing – the flesh is a deathly white and the skin is beginning to split open.

Now curious, you explore through the rest of the rooms in the tunnel. Most of the rooms yield similar results: each cell you check holds a body. Some are fresher than others. By the end of the hallway,your nauseousness flares and you quite forcibly swallow your displeasure. However, your stomach receives second wind and you spew to the wall. With empty disgust floating through your stomach, you continue your journey through the tunnel.

Past the hallway held a room that seemed more fitting of an aquarium than an underground passage. The area comprised of many rooms that were completely visible through transparent walls. Each room held a single harbinger, fit with a label branded on each wrist. The cell in front of you held a small one, clad in nothing but the leather of her wings. You knock on the transparent wall, hoping that she rouses. No response. You peer closer at the specimen. The girl does not seem to be breathing. Best case scenario, she is in a deep, unconscious state. Worst case scenario: she expired. You walk through the place, consciously ignorant of those... sleeping permanently. You mindlessly pass room after room, paying no heed of the movement from the corner of your eye... wait. You stop. Turning back around, you spot something moving. Something alive. The last transparent room held a cat-eared harbinger, darting as far away as it can from your vision. She scoots back, eyes contracting to vertical slits. The girl has a wild, fearful look when you meet her gaze. The only thing separating the two of you is the door.

[ ] Release her.
[ ] Continue your journey.
[X] Release her.

May help us later on. Or fuck us over.
[x] Release Her

Better have somebody else breathing along with you in this place.
[ ] Release her.
[x] Continue

The eyes of a predator in a fearful, cornered creature? That's a recipe for disaster
[X] Release her.
[x] Release her. Why not be kind and show her the way out?
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You decide to release the harbinger. While you would prefer to keep to yourself, the harbinger will inevitably suffer the same fate as its companions in the Chamber if you do not set her free. Steeling yourself with a deep breath, you ease your perturbations and enter through the door. But as soon as the door slides open, the harbinger lunges for your throat. However, the cat-eared person pauses her assault and falls to the floor, retching an empty stomach.

What a poor, miserable being. You place the wretched harbinger under scrutiny. The girl's wearing tattered rags that barely resemble clothing. On her wrists are shackle-like instruments that hold the label, “Harbinger No. 012.” Trying your best to appear nonthreatening, you smile weakly and inch forward. You make deliberate movements, moving your hand slowly back to rummage through your bag. You pull out a water bottle and a can of tuna, opening both for the harbinger as a peace offering.

The girl quite readily swipes them away, wolfing down the contents of both the can and the bottle. During this time, you begin your retreat. Moving one step at a time, you slowly but surely make your way back to the door. The harbinger does not seem as inclined to decapitate you after your tribute, much to your relief. You grant her enough space to exit the room without feeling threatened by your presence. The harbinger exhales sharply in acknowledgment before scurrying off into the darkness.

The only way down is through the black, so you suppose you'll follow. And so, you find yourself deeper into the Chamber.

The second floor does not give the privilege of constant light. Though similar to the first floor's structure, the hallway in the second floor is uncomfortably dark. Suspicious vials and concoctions are clattered all over the dressers strewn about the hall. You are beginning to question the legitimacy of such a research institute. Maybe you should have considered that when you entered this underground maze. With a tinkle of glass, you accidentally tip over a large beaker with your shoe. Its contents come spilling out, seeping into the stony floor. In but a few steps, the mysterious clear liquid of the vial blends into a murky red. A scent of iron hints that the substance is coagulated blood. As you progress further into the darkness, the scent becomes a stench, permeating the halls with the rancid smell of blood.

At the end of the hallway is the door that leads further down into the maze. A corpse blocks the way. It is a dreadful obstacle, but you must cross.

Then the corpse twitched. Though curious, you take refuge behind a nearby dresser and peek your head out at the body. The darkness is most unsettling, and you would rather not take any chances .

Five minutes pass. Then ten. Your sense of danger inevitably succumbs to attrition: you take wary steps towards the body, carefully inching up towards it. With a closer look, you realize the body is that of a girl's. Another harbinger. However, she makes no attempt to exterminate you. She does not even seem to acknowledge your existence. Eventually, you are within arm's distance of her. From there, you feel... pity. The harbinger has been severely mutilated. Only the weak gasps of air she produces and the miserable fluttering of her feathery wings indicate that the harbinger is alive, if barely.

A lone knife, of Liston variety, lies next to the harbinger. Both the blade and the handle are bloodied and worn. The sharp edges bring uneasy thoughts to your mind.

[ ] Leave at once.
[ ] Put her out of her misery.
[x] Leave at once.
Maybe they can regenerate? I'm not sure if that would be an argument for or against this choice.

That said, it seems that the one we saved is clearing a path for us. Glad to have been wrong on that one.
[x] Leave at once.

Seems like borrowing trouble.
[x] Put her out of her misery.

I wonder if that feeling of pity is founded in past experiences. Ending her life would be more humane than to just leave her suffering. Regardless, having a handy tool like a knife would be a great improvement over the scissors we have.
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You should leave at once. Harbingers are not to be trifled with. You eye the Liston blade before moving past the body of the girl. Again, your mind wanders to dark and foreign thoughts. You are unsure if she can understand English, but still you apologize to the girl as you pass.

A faint weeping echoes from behind, the harbinger's voice bouncing through the hallway. There is nothing that you are able to do for the poor creature. You keep your eyes fixated on the door ahead, ignoring any further distractions. As you near the door, you grab its knob. But before you can turn the handle, the door gently swings open with your touch. You discover that the hinges were ripped open.

You steel yourself and enter through, shutting the door behind you. It swings back open because of its lack of hinges. Inside, there are only the shattered remains of desecrated computers and defiled lab equipment. It is only the remains of a laboratory. You scour the area, but there is nothing useful – everything but the single light bulb hanging over the room is completely destroyed.

You brood. The room leaves you with nothing but unrest. It is rather alarming how your worries fester so quickly without a reasoning behind it. Perhaps it is your intuition. Your worries are proven correct when the bulb turns off. To clarify, the bulb is not out; the light disappeared, almost as if it were sucked away.

You hear claws being dragged across the ground, entering from the back of the room. You break into a cold sweat. The being knocks down a few computers in its wake, still digging its claws into the flooring. And due to biological phenomena, you reel back for a sneeze.

In that moment, your body breaks into a dash, running past the being and into the next room. The area evolves into a long tunnel. Wasting no more time, you take the path and flee from the thing. The being is quick to follow, sucking in any light that it comes across. Though you are in darkness, you manage to retain enough vision to see where you are going. However, you do not have stamina to spare. You will not be able to keep running forever. Curse your poor physical health.

The tunnel branches off into two directions: left and right. You must make a choice soon.

[ ] Left
[ ] Right
[x] Left
[x] Left
[x] Right

Woot updates!

I'm still doubting that last choice though. I'd still bet it can recover... But if I'm wrong, it was too cruel. Maybe he could've approached the creature, weapon in hand, to gauge it's reaction?
Indeed, we should have taken the knive at least
aw fuck im sorry
Don't play with my heart, man.
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You steer yourself left. A few paces forward, you are met with a sudden decline; the floor heads straight down into a dark abyss. You fear what lays below, but the footsteps of the creature chasing you provides you with more than enough courage to spare. Digging your left heel into the steep ground, you make an attempt to slide down, using your foot as leverage. However, the smooth surface of the ground causes you to slip and instead, mid-tumble, you decide to tuck and roll. The result is suboptimal. Your intimate moments with the ground leave you bruised and unable to move. If the creature decides to follow then you would have to submit defeat. Thankfully, all you can hear is stillness.

A full minute passes before your body is able to resume motor function. You pick yourself up and throw off your tattered and dirtied coat. Your legs allow you to take two full steps before you succumb to fatigue once again. You fall to your knees and retch miserably. Now that the adrenaline has passed, you begin to realize how unfit you are. It is clear that you are no athlete. To prove your point, a second wave of nausea has you retching to the floor again.

You drag yourself up and gingerly take baby steps forward. The area ahead seems to be a one-way corridor. Should another creature decide to pay you a visit, you may suffer an untimely death. You look askance at the passageway to ascertain its safety. It's completely empty. Nevertheless, you remain crouched, moving alongside the edge of the corridor. At the end of the passage is an open room with a large metal container, cylindrical in shape. It is entangled in too many wires to count – the electrical cords running through the object look like they are constricting the container. Right in front of it is a dated computer terminal. The entire place is disturbingly familiar but you brush aside your discontent and approach the computer. The monitor lights up as you grow close.

Hey. I guess you found me. You look all battered and bruised! I'm guessing the underground didn't treat you too kindly.

I guess you want an explanation? Well... the Chamber inside holds me. More specifically, my body. If you release me from the Chamber now, then all you'll get is a dead Sachi. The container is basically an energy core to power this entire facility. Guess who's the battery? (It's me)

To give some more context, the blackouts that happened before were when I didn't meet the reserve energy requirements. Thanks for powering the generator, by the way. Really helped me out.

That was sarcasm! Don't give me that look!

Anyhow. My consciousness is stored inside this computer. I'm unfortunately locked out of any administrator privilege, so you're the one who has to put my mind back in my body. Before you say that you don't know how to do that, there is a convenient menu for you to scroll through and figure that out. It's in there somewhere.

Now, before you do anything, I'd like to ask you a question. I'm not going to play any more games with you.

Do you think people can change?

[ ] “They can certainly try.”
[ ] “Pretending to change is almost as genuine as the real thing.”
[ ] “No. They cannot.”
[X] “They can certainly try.”
[x] “They can certainly try.”

What can change the nature of a man?
[x] Pretending to change is almost as genuine as the real thing

It is. That said, this guy needs to get laid or something.
[x] “They can certainly try.”
Trying is half the battle. But actually doing it is the other half.
[x] “They can certainly try.”
[x] Pretending to change is almost as genuine as the real thing
We Unlimited Blade Works now.
[x] “They can certainly try.”
[x] “Pretending to change is almost as genuine as the real thing, though. It's hard to tell.”
-[x]"But I swear, I WILL RESCUE YOU. I have SAVED a cat and SPARED a bird. I will find you, and you will be in my arms by the end of tomorrow. I promise."
Not that it wasn't obvious, but the story's abandoned.
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