The visuals pop back on. It is of extremely low quality, crackling and malfunctioning, but I can see. At first, there is nothing but darkness, but as the night vision adjusts itself, it reveals to me the room I'm in with a bright red tint. I would appear to be lying against the wall of a small room, with hardly nothing else in there beside the doorway, on the right wall, leading to wherever. On the left wall, there is something that would seem like a computer terminal. The back wall is covered in large crates and boxes.

When I focus my vision downward, I can see the decayed remains of shirt and jacket, and the ribcage under it... there is not much left of my pants, either, nor my shoes... nor my legs, nor feet.

My jaws open and instinctively try to breathe, before my brain tells them my lungs are gone. Despite the lack of vocal chords, they manage to form a single word, in a low, raspy, mechanical voice, that I feel is not how it should sound like:

"What...?"

command:_

stand, look around whole place.

>>184804
I try to stand... It is slow progress, and painful, or the equivalent of pain when all my receptors have died and all I have is the data reports. I fall back down once, before I finally manage to balance myself atop my legs. My eyes, or whatever, flash and crackle and occasionally shut down entirely, only to blink back again soon enough. There are lights inside my chest, red and yellow, popping into vision and shining dimly in the darkness.

MEMORY BOOT... 10%...

The machinery inside my head has begun analyzing my memory banks, bringing me quick flashes of my life, the one that I had thought to have ended already. One by one, holes are filled and questions responded.

23%...

I take a couple staggering steps and nearly fall down again, but manage to prevail. The clank of my feet meeting the rusty metal floor echoes across the place. I look to my right, outside the doorway, and see another, larger room: dark as this one, full of mist. On my left, there is that computer terminal, shut down for now... 31%... I think, whatever my occupation was, it had something to do with computers. Darned if I remember what, though, right now.

After a while, I manage to bring myself to the crates on the back wall. Upon closer inspection, they would seem to be ice chests: as I open one, I find that they were once full of food, but have long since ceased to function. I am thankful that my smell no longer works.

I take one more look around the room. Aside from what I already mentioned, there is nothing else here.

perhaps the computer could answer some questions? let us see if it is functional.

>>184809
Yeah lets try the computers and see what answears they might hold. Like how you can walk around as a skeleton and stuff like that.

37%... My memory keeps flooding back.

>>184810
>>184814
Yes. The computer. Of course. I walk over it and turn it on.

The terminal boots up almost as slowly and painfully as I myself just had. It would seem to be an old piece of junk that nobody had used or maintained for quite a while, but it does work. It provides me with a simple, text-based operating system:

MagiTech Incorporated
Project Gaia B-117
Food strorage terminal 01

command:_

MagiTech sounds vaguely familiar. I can't right now remember what this corporation is all about, although technology and electronics would probably be a pretty good guess. I'm not sure if they do any actual magic - or if it's even possible for that matter: it might just be some advertisement quirk. They do that kind of stuff a lot.

Project Gaia? Never heard of it. I think Gaia was the old name for earth or ground or some goddess or whatever, which would imply something of my current location. It's not a very imaginitive name, nonetheless.

I type HELP and receive several options of command. Most of them concern reports of the foodstuffs in this storage room and the countless others around it. There are, however, several other options that may interest me:

Connect to main terminal. CLASSIFIED
View security cameras and records. CLASSIFIED
Technical support.

The first one would seem to establish connection to whatever system is running the business around here. The second one, I presume, would give me a look of all the security cameras around this corner of whatever establishment I'm in. Both are classified, password protected at the very least - although a nagging voice at the back of my head tells me this is not a problem.

I'm not sure if any of it tells me anything of myself, though. But who knows?

50%... 56%... My memory banks keep loading, although they are working mostly in a linear manner, from start to finish - giving me some nice childhood memories and somewhat angsty teenage years. They do not give me any hints of my current state of things, or how I ended up here - but I have the feeling that if I concentrated a bit, I could remember some useful tidbits of whatever knowledge I choose.

Likewise, as my awareness grows, I am feeling more and more curious of the current state of my own body. How can I be still alive, when my flesh and organs have rotten away? It might also warrant for further inspection.

I have quite a few options now.

>>184816
Inspect self thoroughly and/or look for a mirror.

and/or connect to main terminal. maybe you used this alot and the password is saved?

>>184825
There are no mirrors in the premises, or other reflective surfaces for that matter, but I can nonetheless get a pretty good look of myself, except for the head and face.

Besides the machinery within my chest, there are other cybernetic implants around my body, installed uncer flesh, to replace internal organs, or to reinforce my bones. Notably, my entire right arm has apparently been replaced by a working metal prosthetic, very light and easy to use. The wrist, and each of the fingers, would seem to contain a variety of tools: a set of lock picks, several wires and plugs, and a small wrist-mounted screen. I do not know the purpose or origin of these, or the rest of the mechanics in my body for that matter: either my memory (62%... 66%...) is still too fuzzy to remember, or I never knew in the first place.

Besides the inner workings of my body, I find a small backpack, and several belt pouches: all of them are half-eaten by moths or whatever, not to mention empty, anything they might have contained in the past having taken by looters while I was gone.

see if you have a common port with the computer, if you do then you may be able to interface with it.

Suggestion 2010/05/29(Sat)12:54 No. 184922 ID: 4531bc
File 127516289443.jpg - (64.34KB , 599x447 , 96379-Final_Fantasy_VI_%28E%29-1[1].jpg )

Magitech?

>>184874
Why don't you just sit and wait for your memory to come back? It seems to be progressing at a rapid pace, and if you mess with the computer it might alert hostiles.

Continue looking around the area. Perhaps you can find something edible, or some water?

77%... 82%...

>>184926
A good point. Give it a couple more minutes, and my memory will have returned. I will see what I know, as that happens, (>>184875) and give a look at the computer then, if it is still helpful or necessary. My hand would seem to contain several suitable tools for the job.

Until then, I'll just have a look around.

I shamble outside the doorway, and end up into the larger room mentioned. It is rather misty here, obscuring much of the room from me despite the night vision, but I can see several more doorways from here: judging from what I already learned from the computer, they lead into more storage rooms.

The ground here is extremely uneven, the passage of time and possibly some external factor having made it such: combined with my own wobbly gait, I almost fall down face-first several times. I can hear the squeaking and skittering of rats in the distance: once I think I see something large and black move across the mist, but dismiss that as my imagination - something that large would certainly make some nois-

*CLUNK*

Speak of the devil.

That came from one of the storage rooms, to my left. Sounded like something heavy falling to the ground, possibly an ice chest, followed by a curse. It does sound human, at least.

99%... 100%. MEMORY BOOT COMPLETE.

The good news hit me approximately two seconds after the noise. I believe I can remember everything of my life, up to this point: my name, my profession, everything. Many questions are answered.

Should I investigate the noise? Return to the computer terminal? Or perhaps review some of the knowledge that has flowed in my head during the past few minutes? Or something else?

>>184962
Investigate the noise while reviewing your memory.

if it is a person then look placid and say "greetings human, how may i be of service" in your best robot voice.

>>184962
What's your name? Profession? Can you remember any contingency plans for this kind of situation?

>>184965
>>184969
My name is Vic, and I'm a hacker. One of the best.

I was hired, along with some other experts, to investigate this place, which was apparently one of MagiTech's "science projects" gone awry. They never told me much details. If I had known it would end up killing me, too, I would have respectfully declined.

You know, I was half-expecting my memory boot to shut down halfway through, giving me an amnesia and forcing me to go through hilarious and convoulted antics to learn all this stuff. But that would have been just silly, no?

"Who's there?"

Hmm. Bone against metal does not make for too good stealth, especially since my control over my body is still hardly perfect: despite my best attempts to investigate silently, I have been heard.

"Show yourself!" Sounds like a young human male. Probably armed, considering the nature of this place - and I don't think I'm bulletproof.

>>184975
Well, at least you can feign amnesia. Show yourself, then as best as you can, ask who he is, what you are, and where we are.

"yes, human" then start walking out while introducing yourself "i am unit ag-5, i have been in stasis until my sensors detected you" make him think you are a robot. less freaked out about the whole skeleton thin. along with the fact that you have lights coming out of you it should be believable.

>>184977
Who else thinks this might be a bad idea?

"Uhh... Hello? Um, don't be offended if I don't show myself. I'm a bit worse for wear. My revival system hasn't restored most of my body yet."

[dang it, what would a normal person more likely freak out about, a robot or a reanimated corpse?]

>>184989
If he has automationphobia you're basically his worst nightmare.

so a higher chance of robophobia then zombiephobia?

>>184982
I'll keep myself hidden for now, lest he make any sudden movements that may result to my death. Again.

"Um, hello? I come in peace. Who's there?"

"Uh... Why don't you show yourself?"

"Because you will freak out and kill me."

"...O-kay..." He sounds somewhat sceptical. "I'm going to come and take a look at you. Don't do anything rash."

The sudden light blinds me for a second, and messes up with my night vision, adjusting it to the new level of brightness. "Watch with the light!" The man on the other side listens, and directs his flashlight away from my eyes.

He seems like a scared young man, twenty or so years, with a flashlight and a rifle - the latter of which is pointed at me. At least he doesn't seem overly hostile at me, even though my current appearance is clearly frightening him. I hold my hands at my sides appeasingly, to show him that I'm unarmed: it's not really helping that much.

"B-but... you're that... you're the..." He stammers, pointing at the direction of the storage room I emerged from. "How are you walking? You're a corpse!"

Relatively peaceful contact has been established, although his attitude could still be improved a lot. How should I go on from here?

advanced cybernestics. seems enough of my brain was inorganic that it couldn't decay.

>>185011
"Cybernetics. I'm barely alive at all, really. Check it out."

Show him your stuff.

"How far are we from a hospital? I think I'm going to need one hell of a skin transplant."

>>185011
Basically, Im a robot. Kinda.

"You're in a MagiTech experimental research facility and you're surprised that I can walk around? To tell you the truth, I have no idea."

>>185021
>>185105
"Cybernetics, probably. I'm a bit surprised about this myself. Check it out."

I feel slightly dirty showing off, but I suppose it doesn't really matter in this state. And as far as hospitals go, the last I checked, we're pretty far away from civilization. But things probably have changed since.

The man lowers his weapon slightly. "All right... Okay. Um. Yeah, I guess those others... never spoke, so, yeah." He still seems rather nervous about me. "Benefit of doubt, I'll give you that... But I'm still not trusting you."

Oh, why could people not see through the appearance to our hearts? The whole world would be so much better place! (Ha.)

"Anyway, my name is Jebediah. But people call me Jeb." He doesn't offer his hand to shake: how impolite. "I came down here to look if I could find some more food that hasn't spoiled. I think I've got something. Suppose you could help me out with that? Are you good at carrying things?" He looks at the sticks of my arms. "...I'm not blaming you if you're not, though."

He backs down a couple steps towards the storage room, before turning and starting to work again.

>>185177
"'Food that hasn't spoiled'? What happened to the surface that made that such an issue?"

>>185177
"I'm afraid I'm not much good with carrying stuff right now but what I am good at... is computers."

Let's go mess with that computer we found.

>>185200
I follow Jeb to the storage room, where he has picked up a heavy cold box and is loading it on a small hover-cart. It has a few other boxes as well. I go to one box and try to lift it experimentally, but as expected, I am currently far too weak for heavy labor. In theory, my mechanical arm has a good lifting strength, but it doesn't matter when the rest of the body is so fragile. If I tried any further I might break something.

I inquire Jeb about the food issue. "Oh, nothing's happened on the surface, as far as I know," he says. "It's just that we're stuck in here."

>>185208
I also tell him of my expertise with computers, and of the one terminal in the other room. He says neither him nor his friends ever got anything out of it. "If you do, though, it might be useful. Give it a try."

yeah, since you are a hacker and can interface with i you could probably blow through any encryption with ease.

Leaving Jeb to his work, I head back to the terminal, and once more open it up and bring up the menu. I have the same options as before: the only things this computer can directly do is to check out the situation with the food, and view security cameras around here in these parts, the latter of which is protected. But it can also connect to the main computer, located in wherever - also heavily protected by passwords and the like.

What should I try?

>>185339
Uh, try looking through all the cameras first. If nothing interesting shows up, then review your memories on hacking.

>>185370
Hacking into the system is easy. The security measures on this computer are old, even archaic - they were so even back when I was alive, which was probably years ago...

That makes me think, actually. I've fallen behind of the arms race between the computer protection and the hackers: it kept going incredibly fast back when I lived, and far as I know, it would not have stopped or even slowed down ever since. But I have been outside of business for a long time, I don't know how long. I used to keep up with the times, but I don't think I'm one of the best anymore. I've been left behind.

Thankfully, so is this computer. I could crack it in my sleep.

There are security cameras throughout food storages 01 to 19, as well as the big central room, the passages between, bathrooms, and the like. It's just a small part of the entire complex I'm in.

I give a brief glance to all the cameras:
01 is my room, and its camera is broken. I look at it physically, and find that it has been dislodged violently, hanging from its own wires. I wonder who or what would have done that.
Rooms 02 through 05 are empty, their cameras working well. Nothing interesting there.
Jeb is working in room 06. As I watch, he hauls one final box to his cart, filling it, before beginning to push it outside.
Room 07 has been completely ransacked, besides a couple boxes. Room 08's camera is not working. Room 09 is a mess... is that blood?

I'm still watching room 09 when Jeb joins me. "Found anything?", he asks. "We never could open room 11: maybe those cameras could show whatever's inside."

>>185382
First review memories of why you came here in the first place. Then look at camera 11.

>>185385
I came here because I was hired. It was quite a lot of money, too.

Apparently, all communication from this place, unimaginitively named as Project Gaia, had ceased, and nobody was coming out. So MagiTech recruited me and some other people to get inside and investigate. I'm not certain what happened to the rest of us, but I sure as hell didn't ever get out.

I skip camera 10 and go straight through to 11, to see what the place might contain. Jeb informs me that the door was jammed, and that they never had the heavy equipment to open it.

Room 11 is in a complete disarray. It contains a bunch of ice chests like all the other rooms, but they're all over the place, open, their contents scattered on the floor. A whole swarm of rats scurries around, looking for something to eat. Considering the amount of those rats, I can't say all that food could have been too long on that floor, or it would've been eaten already.

There is a large hole in the back wall of the room. It is entirely dark and misty, but occasionally flashes with purple light.

Jeb is looking over my shoulder, and sees what I see. "I can't say... can't say that I'm too enthusiastic about that light...", he says nervously. "At least now we know what is in there... somewhat." He doesn't seem too eager to investigate, nonetheless, even if I might be able to open that door: don't know without trying.

Something clatters behind us, in the central room. Jeb glances behind himself for a while and takes a firmer grip of his rifle. Both of us are tense for a moment, but nothing further happens, nor are any more sounds heard: I guess it was just rats.

Jeb relaxes a bit again. "Hey, want to head back to the camp with me? You seem pretty useful: we could always use an extra hand in there."

>>185396
Accept his offer. Ask him how many people are back at camp.

>>185398
"A hundred or so," he says. "We're the descendants of the original staff who came to work here in the first place. They're all dead now, of course, besides the Eld-"

Just then, a loud clank is heard from somewhere in the distance, followed by a faint squeal. Jeb instantly jumps, turns, and points his gun into the darkness. I agree that this was no rat, but his attitude gives me a lot of source for worrying. It makes me afraid of what might be down here with us.

Hell, I know for a fact there is something down here. Or was, at least. Otherwise I'd be still alive.

There are no more sounds, besides the hurried breath of my companion and an occasional low shuffle.

Check Camera 10 please.

See if you can hack further in and get a camera of the control room.

>>185445
Tell him to try and keep a cool head. If he panics, he might shoot a survivor by accident. Tell him to take slow, deep breaths.

>>185446
>>185447
"Come on, man... don't lose it. Breathe deep."

"What?" He sounds rather anxious by now. "You don't know what is in here, do you?"

"How do you know I don't?"

We keep talking in hushed, whispering voices, while I get back on to the computer and open up camera 10, which I missed the last time. Room number ten would not seem to have anything out of the oridinary in it, although these cameras are incredibly old and low-quality.

Yeah, I guess I'll try and hack into the main computer now, specifically its came-

*BANG*

>>185460
Thoroughly scan memory banks of a little bit before you arrived here to before you woke up. Also look at where he shot.

What got shot?

>>185465
I... I do not want to remember the circumstances of my death. Understandably, perhaps, it was an incredibly traumatic experience.

I don't think I got a very good glimpse of whatever killed me, anyway.

I jump and look behind me, remaining connected to the computer. Jeb clances back for a second. "I saw it! One of them muties, just ran past! Nearly got it..." He would seem to have gotten calm by now. I guess the adrenaline is working.

Something growls.

>>185750
We should keep an extra eye out to see if we can spot it for our gun-toting buddy.

Maybe you can find it through the cameras?

Failing that, is probably the best to disconnect. You'll need your full attention to this.

Also that hover-cart. Could you use it as a weapon? Always ram!

>>185758
I quickly skim through every camera, both the ones I've checked out already and the ones I haven't. None of them show anything alive, besides rats, although some of them are broken: either this thing can avoid cameras or it's just a coincidence. I'm hoping the latter.

Rooms 12 through 17 show nothing out of the oridinary. Room 18's camera is broken. Room 19 is completely empty: no cold boxes, no food, no rats, nothing.

The main room's camera is not working, and I'd wager that's where this thing is too.

While I've been working, I head absolutely nothing behind me, aside from the near-constant shuffling. Jeb is being very much silent now, looking outside, ready to aim his weapon at anything that shows its face, or anything.

I disconnect: the computer is working negatively with my attention, and disconnecting safely takes several seconds anyway. Better do it when I do have those seconds to waste. I get myself off it and join Jeb on the doorway. "Keep an eye on the ceiling," he tells me.

"What?"

"They can walk on walls."

"...O-kayyy." That is not doing good to my nerves.

ask what they do, if they just kill people for the meat then you may be relatively safe, you got no meat to eat.

>>185763
"Well..." Jeb says. "Sure, they couldn't eat you, but I think you'd still ping as something edible for them, being a human-shaped thing that acts like a human and stuff... you know."

I'm inclined to agree with him.

"We really should leave..."

>>185769
Go to the camp with him.

if we find a robot maybe you could stick your head on it or reprogram it to listen to you.

>>185810
"It's stalking us...", I'm whispered at. "Be careful."

We slowly creep out of the room, scanning our surroundings. Jeb has his weapon and his flashlight ready, pointing both at every shadow. I'm pushing the hover-cart in front of me and looking around. Even with the night vision, there's nothing in sight.

"So, do you know your way around here?", Jeb whispers at me.

"Yeah... a little bit. I try and recall the general layout of this place: turns out I do not remember all that much, after all, but I do have some impression of things.

We walk past the doorways, one by one. I am not feeling all that comfortable about the darkness and silence, night vision or not. Even if I didn't know for a fact that there is something out there that wants to tear apart what little is left of me.

The floor here continues to be uneven, and I'm close enough to trip and fall several times, taking balance from the cart I'm pushing ahead of me. It slopes slightly downward, as we approach the doorway out: Jeb points it out for me, although I could have recognized it by myself, too.

We are more than halfway past the big room and nothing has happened yet. And then something growls again... Right above us.

And behind us.

use metal arm to defend!

Don't you have any frickin' cybernetic implanted weapons or something?

>>185914
Yes! I have a wrist-mounted laser in my right arm. It's not much, but has nonetheless saved my life in many occasions. I hope it won't fail me now. I quickly turn straight behind myself and find something to aim at, while Jeb shouts a warning and aims his gun upwards.

I see something and fire. There is a blast, a faint flash, a bestial screech, and a sudden, horrible pain in my hand. So old and worn out by time, my weapon overloads and explodes the instant my first shot leaves it.

I hear a loud clang from behind me, immediately followed by a gunshot and some screams, but I have no time to concentrate upon those: as I grip my wounded arm with the other, the beast that I wounded attacks viciously and knocks me down!

I'm thrown straight to the ground, feeling more pain from my upper back as something breaks. The beast lands on my chest heavily, breaking ribs and something else from under it. My world is filled with teeth as I try to keep its gigantic maw away from me with my only working hand...

I'm kinda running out of options here. What should I do? Give me ideas, brain!

Roll! Let it fly right over you with momentum!

Or is it too late for that? Um. Eye beams?

>>185929
HACK IT. As in, attach your hacking device to it.

set robot arm to overload, jam in into it's mouth, boom.

>>186449
Desperate times call for desperate measures! I do not have time to think: setting my arm laser to charge again, fully knowing that in its current state it will have disastrous results, I take aim and give the beast a mouthful. Its jaws immediately start to try and rip my hand to shreds, but the steel endures what the flesh cannot...!

I fire. *BOOM*

An unimaginable pain hits me as half of my hand explodes to smithereens, taking my assailant with it and showering my face with gore and pieces of metal. I lose consciousness as the pain overrides all my systems.

When I come to, Jeb is leaning over me. "You still alive?" Aside from a huge gash on his face, and holding his bleeding chest with one hand, he would seem to be all right: certainly in a better shape than I am right now. I try to stand up, but it is incredibly painful, and I end up falling back on the ground with an agonized grunt.

I will have to stay here for a moment and assess the situation. Jeb sits down beside me.

Damage report. Check ribcage, spine, interior cybernetics. We'll need tape or something like that to patch up our broken bones, given that it's unlikely we can self-heal.

Basically, we're in really bad shape.

"This sucks. Did you find any decent food? Maybe if I ate something I'd be able to repair myself. Fuck, I don't even know how this works."

>>186477
I stay in my place for some time, waiting for the worst pain to pass by, and perhaps seeing whether I could repair by myself. Unsurprisingly, I can't.

I start to feel around myself with my only remaining hand - a painful process, even that - also letting the damage reports flood over my screen.

CRITICAL DAMAGE SUSTAINED. MAINTENANCE IS RECOMMENDED. No shit.

My spine has been fractured on two places: the severity of the damage would be enough to put any normal man on wheelchair for the rest of their life, but thankfully it is not quite as big an issue for myself. If it was, after all, then how could I move my legs until now anyway? Unfortunately, it gives me a significant risk for further injury, enough of which could prove fatal, and it bloody hurts too.

Three of my ribs have snapped clean off, and there are further fractures along my ribcage and my collarbone. I find the broken pieces from inside my machinery, and collect them to my hand. [RIBS added to inventory]

Thankfully, my inner machinery has not been as severely damaged as I initially feared. I was lucky enough to suffer practically no harm to the systems that control and regulate my cybernetics: only those maintaining my flesh and other human parts, none of which I have anymore, have been damaged. They are of no consenquence for now, but should the opportunity ever arise to restore myself to full life and health, it would be necessary to fix these as well.

Finally, my bionic arm has shattered to a thousand pieces. Some metal bone is protruding from it, several wires dangling miserably in the air. I look at it somewhat melancholically: it had been with me for more than a half of my life, and cost a fortune when I had first installed it. I cannot survive for long with just one arm, I think, so I will need to fix this quickly as well.

Looking at all this damage makes me reflect that I am an old, fragile thing, my bones brittled, metal rusted, and most systems barely working or not at all. It's not just the most recent injuries I need to fix: a much more thorough maintenance is, sooner or later, required.

I get up on my elbows, painful as it is, and survey my surroundings. There is blood everywhere, chunks of meat and metal scattered around me. I can see the lower body of some weird creature, the size of a wolf, its tail and hindlegs and spine orphaned on the ground. There is another similar body further away, except for being entirely whole: I suppose it could be mistaken for a very large and very ugly dog, from some distance, but upon close it is very clearly not such. It is entirely black, with two rows of massive teeth, horns growing all over from its spine, and three uneven, gleaming red eyes of different sizes in its forehead. It has a large tongue, dangling from between its teeth and lying on the ground. As I watch, it twitches violently, and I shrudder.

Jeb is still sitting next to me, having produced a medical pack and opened it on the ground next to me. As I watch, he cleans up his wounds and applies bandages on them. "Listen, thanks for saving my life," he tells me as he notices me watching, his voice trying to be brave but showing the pain he is going through. "I think, if you hadn't been here, these buggers would've been the end of me..." He coughs.

>>186516
"So, what kind of food did you find?" I ask purely so that we would have something to talk about, very much doubting they could help me in any manner I can see: my metal parts do not benefit from human cuisine, and the entirety of my digestive tract has been lost to the ravages of time long ago anyway. He tells me that the crates contain many different kinds of canned and dry-packaged foodstuffs, while the ice chests are mostly filled with meat and frozen vegetables.

"We grow our food, but very slowly," he narrates. "There just isn't enough to stuff a hundred mouths, so we've got to regulate. And any extra stuff always helps." He smiles exhaustedly.

Actually, you seem pretty durable for an old rusty skeleton.

Anyway, ask about those buggers. What are they and where did they come from and are there more?

Also you should probably try to move again. Ask if there's somebody in the camp who can fix you.

>>186538
Ask him if he knows anybody that can repair you.

Once Jeb is finished bandaging himself, we get up and continue through the doorway. I can still walk, although it hurts me to do so.

>>186545
He seems to know what I'm thinking before I even ask. "We've got plenty of people who can fix things! Although, I'm not quite sure whether they can do anything to you: you're something new. We'll see, no?"

"Yeah..."

We drag ourselves through the doorway, to a new corridor. It is dark here too, but Jeb's flashlight provides illumination, and my night vision won't need any. He is holding his side with one hand, his flashlight now taped to his rifle so that he wouldn't need two hands for them (I wonder why he didn't do it before).

Some of the places seem vaguely familiar to me: I have been here before, certainly, but the last time the place wasn't this kind of a mess. Lights were on, mostly, and the halls were rather neat and calm. Now it's dark and misty, and there is dried blood everywhere. We pass several other doorways and corridors, and take some stairs up to another hallway. We're now well on areas so far unknown to me, but my companion would seem to know his way around the place well.

Then I hear the howling. It is an unnatural, eldritch voice, not just out of this world, but several layers of existence away. It goes straight into my soul and makes me shiver: if I had flesh and skin left, I would have goosebumps. "We need to hurry," Jeb says, opening a seemingly innocuous and random door among the other, taking us to a small room with no apparent exits.

There is much more light here: there are windows on the other side of the room, providing us light of either morning or evening sun, I dunno. As my vision adjusts, I see a large hole on the left wall, leading wherever. There are lockers here, along with a guard post, I assume, with a computer platform on it.

Jeb shuts down the door and barricades it. "We're still too far away from the camp: they're going to catch up before we get there."

"Can we make it?"

"I don't know."

>>186575
Ask him if he or anyone else knows where they came from or why they appeared.

>>186575
Computer platform? Hack it.

>>186577
>>186581
"What are these things, anyway?", I ask as I begin to move towards the computer, seeing if it could help us. "Where did they come from, and why?"

Jeb shrugs. "All we know is that they're evil and bloodthirsty and kill and eat us on sight, and that they've been here as long as any of us have been alive. Only the Elder remembers any time before them."

"Does he know where they came from?"

"If he does, he doesn't tell us."

I get myself to the computer, and turn it on. As expected, it is an old guard station, which should make it a veritable goldmine for both information and protection. Unfortunately, absolutely everything is heavily protected, and I am not only missing all my tools, but writing with a single hand: this will take a while.

"Try and hurry up with that thing, whatever it is you're doing!", Jeb shouts, as he deploys the hover-cart in front of the door and turns it off. It lands on to the floor gently, blocking access for anyone at least for some time. Of course, that food is very much needed in his camp, apparently, so that thing can't stay there forever: it is but a temporary solution.

The banging on the other side of the door has already begun when I manage to get through. I have several options: I can turn on silent alarm, try and contact with other guard posts around the facility, initiate security lockdown to this particular wing, deploy mechanical guards, browse the personal files of the guards stationed in here (including diaries), display cameras around the place, or display the entire map of this complex.

As the banging grows more frequent, however, and Jeb more alarmed, I understand that we do not have much time. I will have to make it count, whatever I do now.

>>186589
"The Elder" means that it has probably been at least 40 years since things went to shit.

Lets review:
>I can turn on silent alarm,

Assuming that hasn't been tripped? I really doubt anybody will be listening after this long.

>try and contact with other guard posts around the facility

Put out an APB, but don't waste time waiting for a reply. Move on to other things.

>initiate security lockdown to this particular wing

They can bash through barricades; you can't.

>deploy mechanical guards

Tempting, but I'm pretty sure your buddy doesn't have security clearance.

>browse the personal files of the guards stationed in here (including diaries)

Lets come back to that.
When you're not at risk of imminent death.

>display cameras around the place

Useful, but too time consuming.

>or display the entire map of this complex

Yes, we have a winner. Do that.

>>186589
Deploy mechanical guards, set their targeting parameters so that they don't shoot you or any normal humans.

>>186590
I second this.

>>186590
>>186630
After the initial act of hacking in the computer, displaying the map of this place is easy. With just a couple buttons, I get to see a fancy three-dimensional computer model of the Gaia complex.

According to this, we are at one of the higher floors, with dozens of them under us and ten or so more above. It is a huge place, built to excavate and research the ground below the mountain, although I do remember the company being rather secretive about it. The food storage is only a couple floors below us. There is a recreational center in the middle floor, for the researchers and builders and diggers and whatnot to relax in when they're out of duty. I can see many laboratories and workshops at the lower parts of the mountain, along with the giant drill that was to dig up deeper and deeper until they found something interesting. I bet they did, too.

Jeb points out a couple more floors above us. "That's where the camp is. We tried to reach the high ground, initially, since all the bad guys seemed to come at us from below, but our advancing was cut by... well, you'll see." Indeed, there are still more floors after the camp: they're getting much smaller at this point, as we reach the top of the mountain, and there simply isn't room for too complex buildings anymore. At the very top of the mountain, there is a tall communications tower: I bet the view would be nice from up there too.

Finally, this map is clearly outdated in some sense. Although it is very accurate, it doesn't show the hole to our left, nor many others like it I've seen or any other kind of damage this place has sustained since. My companion points out the route we are to take, past several more new holes, with the doors shut and barricaded long ago.

The banging at the doorway has grown harder and more frequent, although our makeshift barricade still holds. Even if that barricade is actually very important to us, and we cannot very well leave it here. Whatever the case, we're running out of time.

I direct my attention back at the map. Am I looking for something specific?

>>186708

Check the map for any exits out the side of the mountain. It's not likely they made it so you had to go all the way to the top to get in. If there are none, make a note of where the corridors come close to the side of the mountain, where you could possibly excavate yourself to the outside. You might or might not be able to take advantage of that depending on what's blocking their way to continue upward.

If you can get a physical copy of the diaries, they will be incredibly valuable in piecing together this whole mess. Otherwise, abandon post! Your friend seems to know where to go. Follow him!

Wait, the barricade is important and you can't leave it? Why not? Otherwise, just cheese it man!

>>186939
The mountain has two primary entrances: a door at the ground level, and a heliport at the very top. There is also a smaller door, a side entrance, a bit higher from the main door. Both doors are nearly twenty floors below, much lower than anyone can go according to Jeb: "We're in deadly danger even this far from the camp. Nobody could ever reach that low!".

Some corridors do come rather close to the side of the mountain, with only several yards of rock in between them and freedom. However, the mountain is incredibly steep and hard to climb, which is something we should be prepared for as well if we go that route. If we cannot reach any of the primary entrances, it might be a viable option to get out of here.

While I'm still here, I make a note of downloading the private data stored on this computer, including the diaries of the previous occupants of this position. They fit nicely on a single disk, which I put in my backpack. [DATA DISK added to inventory]

There is a crash and a large, clawed hand attempts to reach inside through a hole it has made: it's time to leave.

>Wait, the barricade is important and you can't leave it? Why not?

The barricade is an old cart made to hover via the use of nearly obsolete technology: it is light and easy to move, no matter how much load you might put on it, as long as it's not deactivated, in which case its contents would also regain their weight, together possibly turning it quite heavy. Currently it holds several tons worth of food for the inhabitants of this place, and, while turned off, makes for a perfectly suitable barricade to protect us from the assailants.

Right now, though, its current job is far more important than that. I take Jeb's hand and begin leading him towards the hole in the wall. "But we can't leave the food!", he protests.

"Do they care about it?

"No, I think they like to hu-"

"Good, then we can come back for it later.

"But-"

"Our lives are more important, come on!"

He hesitates some more, but eventually obliges, and takes the lead. We get through the hole on to the other side, quite quickly considering our current state. Jeb tells me that the way from now on should be safe, having been barricaded from several places and heavily guarded: I try to nod, but instead grunt in pain and hold my chest with my hand.

"What's wrong?" His words echo weirdly in my mind, and I can barely understand what he means. I'm tingling, in the very bad sort of way. My vision is fading away in a snowstorm and crackle. I recognize these signs.

"I'm cr-crashing."

"What? What're you talking about?"

"Like... like com-computers, you kn-know... p-passing out-out-out...

The floor jumps up to meet me, like a rake I had stepped on. The world shuts down around me as everything fades to blue.

REBOOTING... 30%... 70%... 100%

"Ughh..."

"Oh hey, are we awake?"

"Urgh..."

"Whoa, relax. Don't try to stand." I'm pushed gently back down to something soft: I didn't even realize I was trying to get up. "You got hurt pretty badly in there. It's a miracle you're even alive."

I see something through the crackling visuals. A concerned looking young person - boy or girl, I don't know - looking at me and trying to hold me down.

I don't know how long I was gone. All I saw with my conscious mind was three seconds of BSOD, then I rebooted. I'm pretty sure it has been longer than that, though. I'm still a bit fuzzy, but quickly clearing up: reckon it might be time to do some questions, or should we just bail out, nevermind what this guy - or gal - thinks?

command:_

>>187078
Query location and amount of time lost. You are on something 'soft'? This does not sound like you are still in danger.

>>187080
This.

>>187078

There are things trying to eat you just because you sort of look like you would be fun to chew on. You died decades ago and know nothing about the world today or the horrors that burrow up from the deep. You were helpless and disabled and this young person didn't take advantage of that and remove your remaining limbs for easy pickings later. Your system is so fragile and full of holes it crashes before a day has passed, and it's the only thing keeping you alive (somehow). Your only weapon is a twisted sparking ruin of what once was a limb. Yes you should totally shove this young person aside and run around like a headless chicken trying to find your own way out past the monsters.

*goes to get popcorn*

>>187085
Oh, you.

>>187080
"Where-?"

"You're back at the camp," she tells me, as she gets up from top of me and returns to her workstation. "Thank my brother for that. He carried you all the way, despite being injured himself!" She pauses for a second, then continues. "And for that matter, thanks for keeping him alive."

"How long-?"

"Oh, just about a day. Maybe a bit more. I had to replace your power source: it was incredibly old anyway, and then that bugger stepped on you, which didn't help matters at all."

>You are on something 'soft'?

As she continues to speak, I start to take a feel and a look around. I find myself resting in a small bed, surprisingly comfortable. Above and next to me there is a variety of machinery and tools for repairs and maintenance. There is a small desk on the other side of the bed, with an alarm clock and a picture of this woman, a young man I recognize as Jebediah (some years younger), and an older woman in the middle of them - assumedly a mother or aunt or something.

"Old Jacob has taken measurements of your arm and should have a replacement done in a few days. Fitz's mended your ribs and your spine, says you are allowed to walk after a bit of rest but shouldn't exert yourself for a couple more days at least..."

There is a small bookshelf here, too, full of tomes and disks and other assorted stuff. A large model of a spaceship rests on top of it. In the corner there is a television, although I somewhat doubt it gets cable. Finally, there is the computer, with the woman that assumedly fixed me sitting at it, working with whatever.

"Anyway, they both say, and I agree, that you were a mess even before you got hurt. Old and barely functioning and effectively dead. If there's any more fixing you'd like to have done on yourself, ask Jacob, or maybe Kant, or somebody else: we've got dozens!"

"I also wouldn't recommend wandering too far away, with all those monsters around and you in such a bad shape. Anyway, I'm Namad." She doesn't even move her eyes away from the screen. "What's your name?"

"Vic."

"Well, nice to meet you, vic!", Namad exclaims cheerfully, only to begin immediately ignoring me. I'm left to lay down on this bed, my back aching.

>>187088
Ask for a mirror. You still haven't had a good look at yourself yet.

>>187089
Namad hands me a mirror and I finally get to look at my face properly.

Let it be said, it is extremely unnerving to look at your own skull. It seems like a relatively normal such, perhaps a bit dirty, with a slender bone structure and very good teeth. It also contains a couple small chips implanted in my forehead, and its eye sockets contain a pair of mechanical, bright blue optics: they may seem perfectly human from a distance, but if one took any closer look, their artificial nature would be revealed immediately. They look creepy.

"Mind you, you look pretty scary," my host quips. "Jeb had to explain things a bit and tell how you helped him, before anyone would try to fix you instead of just loot and bury you."

"I guess you're okay, though." She grins at me.

>>187092

Are you okay though? It's not clear how your bones are moving at all, since you didn't have cybernetic muscles except maybe in your arm. For one thing you should ask Namad if she was monitoring your system while it was, er you were rebooting. She might be able to get an idea how obsolete it is, though considering they've fallen into a primitive hunter gatherer society in the wake of the endless monster attacks I doubt many advancements have been made in the last 40 years. Do you have any way she could plug her computer into you, to run remote diagnostics on? Oh crap this is starting to get awkward.

>>187092
Have you replaced your entire brain with some kind of electronic device? If all your flesh rotted away you'd think your brain would be in a similar state.

Unless your dermal damage was not due to rot, but something else... Even then, you must have some kind of seriously effective brain support system running to keep it from dying due to lack of oxygen. All your veins are gone, yeah?

>>187107
Indeed. My brain is, essentially, a computer. Were it still fully organic, I would be very much dead after all these years. It is supported by a mechanical power source in the chest, essentially my "heart", that not only pumps blood to my natural body parts (irrelevant for now), but also keeps the electronics going.

I believe all the damage my body has endured is entirely because of time. Judging from what I've learned, the whole mountain has been in a complete isolation for decades: it went into lockdown only weeks prior to my entrance, which means I've been dead for a very long time indeed. How long, I'm not sure.

>>187094
Each of my bones has some very advanced biomechanical machinery, small but effective, that let me control them remotely through my brain, nerves be damned. The system is a bit clunky, almost yet not quite as dextrous as what natural nerves and reflexes would produce. Unfortunately, the physical strength they provide is still only the barest fraction of normal. Fully functional muscles would be a far more superior solution, but for some people - like myself - that option is, sadly, off the table.

Namad says she ran a diagnostic to me while I was unconscious. "Sure, you're pretty much a corpse," she explains, "but that doesn't matter as much as you'd think, because you've replaced just enough stuff that they won't mind all the rotten bits missing. You've still got the brain, the power source, some movement, and eyes and ears."

"And speech."

"Yeah, well, you don't use that one much, do you?" She grins. "Anyway, yeah, you pretty much locked your flesh out of the loop: they're not strictly required, they'd just be there to support themselves. Sure, some muscle would help, but you can go without."

well replacement parts would be good. while i may still be whole i am very brittle.

>>187112
Well, enhancements we should get, in order of priority:
Armor
Strength
Dexterity

>>187113
>>187129
I inquire Namad about my chances to get some more fixes on my old and battered physical shell. She responds thusly: "Well, maybe. Can you help us out in return? What can you do?"

"What? Oh, um. I'm a pretty good hacker, I guess...

She instantly perks up. "A hacker? That's awesome! We don't have any hackers here."

"Really?"

"Duh. All our ancestors were honest good working citizens. They had no skills nor tools of that kind to pass on to their kids and grandkids."

"Oh." Makes sense, of course. MagiTech chose its workers carefully.

"Okay, good. Listen. Here's how things work around here: we're all fighting for survival. Everybody does everything they can, in exchange they're helped out when they need it. You scratch my back and so forth... If you don't do anything, you could get kicked out, and that's bad. That's never happened, though: an army of monsters is a pretty good incentive."

"Go talk to the Elder if you want work. He'll arrange something for ya."

Well then lets go talk to the elder.
Ask him if he can arrange to have you fixed for doing jobs n shit.

then best be would be to put your head on one of those guard robots.

>>187147
After one more general check-up, Namad finally lets me go, offering to show me around the place as well. I walk outside the room to check out this camp of theirs a bit.

It's more similar corridors than the ones I already saw, with the very notable exception that these are all quite clean and well-lit. Well, perhaps a bit dim and a bit dirty, but the contrast is still amazing. There are some people moving around, but otherwise it's rather deserted: nonetheless, feels weird to see them here, looking relatively happy and clean, when just a little while back I was running away from horrible monsters - not very far from here, either.

They look at me strangely, but considering my looks, still aren't particularly hostile. I guess the word about me has reached around.

Namad starts to describe the place, telling me about several places I might want to check out. There's the Elder's home, of course, where council is kept, disputes decided, and all that stuff. There's the workshop, where Jacob and Kant and all the others build stuff, like my hand for instance. The laboratory and research, the infirmary ("Jeb's there too, you could visit him at some point if you find the time!"), the power station, the main computer... there's even a whole big garden, with trees and crops and a reservoir full of fish! How'd they ever pull that one off?

The city proper spans four floors, with two more floors cleaned up and heavily guarded on both sides. Below that, and above, is getting much too dangerous for anyone besides the most daring.

"So, where'd you like to go first?", I'm asked.

>>187149
Hmm, I don't know. I've never seen one of those robots anywhere, or even heard anyone describing them: what if they're something really big and clunky?

I'll think about it if I ever see one and it seems okay, but for now... nah.

Well then lets go talk to the elder.
Ask him if he can arrange to have you fixed for doing jobs n shit.

Go talk to the elder. We need to prove we're useful!

>>187214
Lets talk to the Elder. Who knows, he might even be someone we knew long ago when we were flesh and blood. Should help to get the lay of whats going on.

>>187219
>>187382
>>187479
>Who knows, he might even be someone we knew long ago when we were flesh and blood.

Hey, makes sense. Funny I never thought of that. Could be one of my old party.

Anyway, yeah, sightseeing can wait until I actually have time. I tell Namad I want to see the Elder right away. She agrees and we take the first stairs up.

Most of the time, these corridors look just about the exact same. No variety to speak of. At some places they're torn down, though, and I can see what lies beyond: mostly it's just more rooms with computers and machinery and the like, but I do catch a glimpse of their great big weird forest.

Anyway, we reach what I assume to be the Elder's room, with nothing much happening than getting a weird look or two. There are a couple guards here, and Namad talks our way in: "Yeah, he's a bit busy, but whatever."

We find ourselves in what would appear to be rather a normal office. There is a desk here, with a computer and some important looking papers on it. Behind the desk is a large shelf, with files and disks and the like. In front of the desk, his head lying on his hands on the table, sits a very old man, snoring. He is dressed in some grey robes, and although he is balding, he is making up for it with some very impressive moustache.

I nudge him a bit to wake him up. The snoring stops abruptly. "...Whuh?" The man gets up slowly, blinking, looks at me, and screams.

just back up and let someone else do the talking, probably thinks you are the grim reaper, come for his soul or something.

>>187546
"Whoa!" I raise my hands devensively as he jumps up from his chair and takes a step away. He has stopped screaming, though: it was more for the initial surprise of having a dead guy staring at you.

"Um, Elder?" Namad opens her mouth, directing the old man's attention to her. "That's the guy who saved Jeb's sorry ass and helped him to bring us a lot of food. Remember? We talked about it yesterday."

"Oh..." He goes silent for a moment, then perks up. "Oh! Yeah. Yeah, him. Yeah, of course, I get it, the scary guy... yeah." He smiles at me. "Sorry about that, you just really startled me and all..."

"It's fine.

"Mm-hm... so. Can I help you with something?"

We spend quite a lot of time talking about jobs and body fixes and general things... This Elder guy seems like an old, wise, slightly demented fellow, whose age has gotten the better of him somewhat but who's still sane enough to be in charge instead of retiring. I have to admit I sorta like the bugger a bit.

Despite the earlier speculation, though, he doesn't seem to be any of my old companions. I think I would still recognize them, even after all these decades. I wonder what they've been up to.

"You're not much good for us outside the village, in your current state," he tells me. "Maybe once you've been fixed a little, I could let you go out if you want: you seem like the kind of a guy who could handle yourself out there." I nod. "But for now, let's find you a way to be useful around here, at least until you've gotten yourself in a decent fix."

He checks up something from his screen. "To be honest, you're a bit of a godsend: we've got plenty of jobs for a hacker! Hrm... There's a couple small security rooms up from here, two floors higher from the city. The place is secure, but we never got those doors opened because we don't have the clearance. It really sucks: if only just a single guard had survived initially... oh well." He shrugs sagely.

"We've got another guard post up here, too, with the computer completely unaccessable to all of us. The bunch of files you got from the last one really helped, so I was thinking, maybe this other one got something else...? Who knows."

"We've also got the, well, not quite the main computer of this facility - the main one is way down - but close. We can use it somewhat, but just about every really important thing is password protected! It's frustrated us all for a long time, maybe now we can do something about it."

"Then there's this security robot we managed to capture and shut down a couple years back. Unfortunately, it considers all of us intruders that must be destroyed, because nobody besides me registers as either a worker or a guest. So we'd need to manage to put us all into registers, or otherwise calm down the bugger and make it work for us."

"Last, but definitely not the least... well, we've gotten some messages apparently. They show up in our computers. Some of them very threatening, too. We're afraid that whoever's sending them might be hostile, and that they might get to know a lot of more things if they can hack into our systems. So we'd need to boost up our defenses and maybe find out who this guy is and where he resides, if possible. It'd help."

"Once you're getting back in shape, we'll have some more jobs for you at the danger zones. Any questions?"

>>187615
>"Any questions?"

Any questions? Any questions?!

This seemingly innocuous inquiry has opened the massive floodgates of your mind! Who is this man? What happened here? How long ago has it been like this? What happened to your friends? How the hell do they have a garden and a LAKE?! Why did your systems wait for decades before waking up instead of doing so right away? Why hasn't anyone else come looking for you? What's in the Room 11?

Freak out due to the gravity of the situation. Run outside, try to throw up, pass out.

Or... just start by asking how long it's been.

get the guard post fully unlocked. just figure out and then give someone else the passwords so you can move on to something else while they look at that. suggest guard bot next. if you can't reprogram it at all then just steal it's body.

>>187615
Crack the passwords on the computer. Then mess with the security bot.

Suggestion 2010/06/04(Fri)05:24 No. 187664 ID: 1177ca
File 127565428731.jpg - (30.00KB , 383x354 , 6a00d83451d00d69e200e54f6bd6348834-640wi.jpg )

>>187625
>>187637
First, I accept the guard post job. It seems like a simple enough of a thing.

The Elder directs me outside, and we move a couple hallways backwards to the guard post, that ironically isn't guarded at all. It is rather close to the heart of the camp, which doesn't require much guarding: actually, it is used as a general store, its lockers filled with all kinds of stuff and more boxes and crates full of things brought in.

I get to the computer and mess around with it a little. It cracks open like an egg shell. "Marvelous job!", the Elder exclaims, filling me with pride: feels nice to be the only one in the entire complex who can do anything like this. Feels good man.

For the task of the security robot, I am directed to Jacob's workshop. This place is full of highest working technology I have so far seen in this place, some of which is currently used to make a new hand for me: it is quite a lot for what I think, but I guess it won't be much anymore, compared to what the outside world would have come up with in these last decades. Nonetheless, I investigate and mess up with it a little, borrowing some things as I move to the robot itself.

The machine is a good seven feet tall, silver coloured, with the MagiTech logo in its chest. It looks rather like a skeleton, being very thin and very lean, with long and flexible fingers for accurate and dextrous work. The only actual weapon I find for this thing is a laser rifle, mounted on its wrist and hidden under the armour plates, but I suspect it would not need that many weapons anyway: pure strength would do.

"This thing must have cost a fortune..."

"It did," the Elder says. "I worked here, remember? I was just an accountant, sure, but at least I saw the price tags that way."

I turn to the back of the machine, opening its platings to gain access inside its systems. It is then that the thought occurs to me:

>>187625
>just steal it's body.

Some parts of my mind have whispered about moving out from my current physical shell. What's left of it is in a pretty bad state, with mostly nothing working anymore, and whatever does work works really badly. Here I would have almost a perfect example: strong, durable, dextrous, and in a marvelous condition.

Of course, I would need the permission to do that, and even if I do, the process would probably take several weeks: determining if it really is as fit as it looks like, whether it is compatible with my mind, the transfer itself, etc. Furthermore, I still like the idea of restoring my own body one day - humans can do some really fun things robots can't - but I suppose I could save my original shell somewhere, and move back in it once an opportunity to fix it does rear its head.

On the other hand, simply fixing it to recognize this camp's inhabitants, along with myself, as friends, would take just about half an hour, which is significantly less time. Fixing my own body a bit would be relatively easy, too, considering nobody's messing up with the internal mechanics and compabilities and stuff, and could be done in less than a week.

Hmm, I'm not sure.

i said steal it if it can't be fixed. since it can be fixed then fix it.

>>187664
Fix the robot, and fix yourself.

It takes less time and you wind up getting more out of it.

>>187676
This.

>>187676
>>187705
Fair enough. I begin my duties in repairing the thing, adding the whole list of the city's inhabitants to its memory - normally this is done remotely from the main computer, for all the robots at once, which we obviously can't do right now: this means of course, that the remaining bots will remain hostile, which might be bad. I also make it follow the commands of humans here: in theory, it can obey everybody now, myself included, but some people's orders, such as the Elder, take priority.

The machine's eyes blink as it awakens, for the first time in two years. Everybody backs away, pointing their guns at it, but it doesn't attack. It simply looks at them, confused.

"Okay. Um...", the Elder begins. "How about... go to the floor 37 and see that no intruder can get past that point. Okay?"

Without a word, the machine leaves the room, presumably to handle its duty. I somehow think we're a bit more safe now.

My turn comes next. However, the hand is not finished for a couple more days, and every other thing I'm requesting - reinforced bones, some more strength and dexterity - takes a while to prepare. Look for parts and stuff, you know.

Therefore, I find myself with a couple days of free time, after which the operation will begin, and last for another five days. What should I do until then?

>>187728
This quest is now about getting laid with Jeb.
Go see what hes up to. Check out his sweet ass.

no, that's just.. ick.

>>187755
Um. I'll admit that he isn't that bad looking, but you do realize that I'm an undead cyborg skeleton with very slim chances of ever getting my body back? I don't think we could ever really do anything. Even my fingers are too cold and thing for... um. You know.

Still, I suppose I could visit him, now that I have the time. He's still at the infirmary, recovering from his wounds, the last I heard. It's right next to the general stores, which also keep most of the medical stuff in their special lockers and boxes.

I find Jeb from the only occupied sick bed. Half of his head is covered in bandages, and I'd presume there are some more under his shirt. He looks slightly surprised for seeing me, but also pleased. "Oh, hey."

"Hey."

"Sup?"

"Oh, you know, I've got some free time, so..." I tell him about the work I've been doing, hacking to the guard computer and fixing that robot. And about getting those fixes.

He nods. "Okay."

We need to get your skleton fixed up before we go there but still we could you know get to know Jeb and have some fun. Freindships are more important then just just sex. So build up your friendship with Jeb while he is recovering and start to do some reserach into getting your primary functioning systems online.

Also I want to ask where you were originally from and what memories you have of your past?

yeah, hangout with you buds sounds cool.

>>187871
>>187873
"Oh, hey, thanks for saving me back there."

"Eh, was the least I could do." He shrugs. "Only a douche would've left you."

I stay and chat with him for some time, about whatever pops up into our minds: all those monsters, the life inside this place, our respective childhoods... It's been a while since I've talked about anything in such a relaxed manner. A couple days before I came to this place - which was like, decades ago.

After a while, Jeb brings up another subject: "So hey."

"Hm?"

"Have you seen our forest yet?"

"Nope. I've been a bit busy and all lately."

"Okay, so. I'm getting out tomorrow morning: still a bit stiff all around, but I'm fine, more or less. Suppose I could show you around the place?"

>>188085
That would be great, thanks.
Lets head over to the Mechanics and see if we can pick up any repair/maintenance skills.

>>188085
Let's go take a bit of a walk in the forest.

Also consider doing some more work since we've got little to do.

>>188088
"Sure, that'd be nice. Thanks."

"Hey, it's okay. I've got to show the new guy around the place, no?"

I shrug, and stay with him for a while more, before finally getting up and leaving. Next, I head back over to the mechanics, where Jacob and the others are working with my hand still. They let me watch and see if I could pick up something useful of it.

I spend a good while watching them work, asking questions, letting them teach me some basic maintenance and repair skills, so that I might not need their services so often in the future. It is quite late when I leave, but I suppose there would still be a bit of time before I hit the sack.

>>188097
Do you even need to sleep?
Uhhh, lets go see what Namad is up to.

>>188098
Whether it's flesh or electric, a human mind requires a certain amount of sleep in order to remain effective. Otherwise sleep deprivation, insanity, and loss of humanity will ensue.

On that account, I have been told that there is well enough room available for me around here. There are four floors of the city proper, with much of the space reserved for working areas, but some rooms are inhabited: not too much room for one more occupant. Then there are two floors of the "suburb" area where most people live, with the upper of the two being much smaller due to approaching the top of the mountain, where there was less room to excavate. The lower suburb is under the main city, and has much more space. The final two human occupied floors, on the top and the bottom of all else, mostly contain just occupied guard posts and patrol areas: there is an occasional squabble fought there with an adventurous monster, but nothing else much.

Mostly there is only a single room per person, with small children living along with their mum or dad. Once they reach a certain age, six years or so, they get their own room somewhere near to their parents, which really doesn't count as "moving out", just that they've got more room for their toys. All families tend to live close together for the rest of their lives, in the same homes they got back in the day.

Whatever the case, there is more than enough space for me around the suburbs: all I need to do is to find an unoccupied room from the registers and declare it mine. The paperwork, I've been told, is extremely simple, with very little bureaucracy when compared to the outside world. Should I try the upper or the lower suburbs? I don't know, I'll think about that later.

For now, I fancy a visit to Namad's place. She has her workshop established in the middle of the city: I walk over, knock the door, and get inside upon the "Come on in".

Namad was, apparently, working on something complicated looking on her computer: there are a lot of numbers and images and terms that I don't understand, well outside my area of expertise. She seems pleased to see me, smiling as I come in. "Oh hey! I was just about to finish over here and go home to have a snooze. Did you have a good day? Checked out all the places?"

Ask her what she was working with. If there's anything either of you could do to help each other.

Also mention you saw Jeb.

>>188116
I was thinking of getting a place to sleep. Whats the difference to the upper and lower suburbs?

>>189618
We small-talk about various subjects. I tell her that I went to meet Jeb, and managed to get him show me around tomorrow. She, meanwhile, tells me that she's double-checking all the information abailable of that security robot I fixed earlier.

"You did a pretty good job with it," she says. "Everything would seem to be fine."

>>189692
Besides being smaller, the upper suburbs is rather more valued for such arbitrary reasons as being "on higher position", and further away from the majority of this mountain: I guess its inhabitants would like to think themselves to be better protected from the dangers of this place, being further away from it and having the rest of the city in between them. Yet, from what I've heard, the top areas of the mountain, above the city, have their dangers as well.

It is also to be noted that the Elder himself lives on the lower suburbs.

Namad herself, however, lives at the upper suburbs. According to her, this is because her whole family during their time here used to live at the top area. "My grandfather was a computer scientist, and had his living quarters in there," she says. "Actually, this place here, where I work, used to be his old workroom." Jeb lives next to her, too.

She offers to accompany me to the city hall, where the paperwork is made. "It probably doesn't matter where you'd like to live, but still, do you have any ideas?"

>>189711

Get a room near Namad and Jeb then. They're your buds, right?

Also, look into getting a mask and some clothes you can fill out with stuffing or something. You don't want to be more unsettling to look at than you need to be.

>>189738
The city hall is contained in the fourth floor of the camp, from the down (suburbs and the guarded floor not included), and it consists mainly of a few larger rooms piled together and picked for the purpose. These include the Elder's workroom: we pass him on a hallway heading there, talking to a tall, gaunt man with a lab coat. Namad looks at them rather oddly as we pass by, but we continue on.

The paperwork is painless indeed, at least to somebody used to the bureaucracy of the outside world. I fill a single form that asks me a few routine questions - name, marital status, any STDs, etc. - and I am told almost immediately afterwards that there is a room for me at the upper suburbs. I am now officially part of this community. I shake his hand and leave.

I do take notice that people around here tend to look at me strangely, presumably because of my skeletal appearance. Asking Namad about this, she explains that both herself and Jeb do have some spare clothing they could present me.

So, on my way to my new home, I pop by at their place to choose something for myself. Considering the situation we're all in, I don't have all that much to choose, but I do manage to find myself some jeans, long-sleeved shirt, and an old, greying trenchcoat. "Belonged to our dad, but Jeb never got used wearing it," Namad comments on the last one. "So I guess you could have it."

There are no spare pairs of shoes, however, which is rather a shame. Likewise, there are no masks to hide my skeletal face behind. Oh, well, beggars can't be choosers.

My new room is right next to theirs. It is empty of anything but dust, absolutely everything having been looted from it decades ago. I presume it should be my responsibility to fill it with something interesting: a bed comes to mind. But for now, I am too tired.

I huddle myself to the corner of the room and let the sleep come to me. It is a bit harder than expected to fall asleep when there is nothing fleshy left in my body anymore, not to mention the lack of anything soft under me, but... *Yawn*...

*Snooze*

REBOOTING...

My visuals come back online. I do not know how long I have slept, but I presume it is now morning. At least if my current body doesn't sleep significantly more or less than an average human being.

I get up from the floor, and let my senses adjust a little, waking up properly. Let's assume it's morning. What should I do?

It shouldn't be hard to make a hammock, if you want a cheap thing to sleep on. If there are no pre-made masks handy, you should make one. Or have one made for you. Even something as simple as a cloth balaclava would go a long way toward making you look less unsettling.

Did you bank any DNA before you took this mission? If you survive this and escape the mountain you will want to be able to have the option of having your flesh husk regrown. If you didn't bank any, do you think some of your bones would still have old bone marrow protected inside them?

You should read the guard journals when you get a chance, too.

>>189772
You still have teeth in your skull, right? Is so, hang on to them. Teeth can be a great source of DNA. And DNA means you might be able to one day get a new body! That is still far off, but be sure to save those teeth just in case. Also, I second getting a balaclava. Don't want to scare anyone.

>>189772
>>189787
I still have all my teeth, and I intend on keeping a good care of them. They could be used to restore my body, I'm sure, but I'm also almost entirely certain that there are no facilities for that anywhere here. I'll have to wait until I get out.

As for the guard journals, I left them at the computer station around here. I should go and ask about them at some point.

For now, I should go and find something to cover my face with. Along with a hammock or something to sleep on. So I get up from the cold, hard floor and walk to the door.

Jeb is on the other side, almost managing to knock my skull instead of my door as I open it suddenly. "Oh." "Oh."

"So, I see you're awake."

"Uh-huh... I see you got our from the hospital."

"Yeah. Heard you got your own place, so I thought I might come and take a look."

"It's... not really much yet. I'm working on it."

"Yeah. So... you wanted me to show you around the place, no?"

Thank him for borrowing the coat. Ask him to show you around the forest, especially.

Also ask if he'd have anything to cover your face with. Also hammock.

>>190282
I am informed that there is plenty of material for both a hammock to sleep in, and a balaclava to cover my skull with. Jeb was never the handiest man for the job, but he promises to find someone who could help me. Seems like a decent enough of a guy.

For now, we take a bit of a walk around, during which we chat and get to know each other a bit better. There is nothing too notable about Jeb's past, considering this place anyway, besides the story of how he witnessed his father's death in the hands of those monsters. It's quite a sad tale, really.

Anyway, he shows me around the single place in this city that actually has something worth seeing: the forest. It was originally a large recreational center, with a swimming pool that was turned into a reservoir (with fish!): half the floor right under this one was filled with earth and soil, trees were given a lot more room to grow by removing the ceiling to the floor above, and they're fed with artificial sunlight. It's all quite amazing, and I have hard time to believe how they could have managed this.

Many people are here, out of work, taking it easy. We sit under a tree to relax for a while. Questioning of the nature of this place, I hear of a group of heroes that came from the outside long ago, back when the surrounding mountain wasn't quite this hostile, and managed to carry all the seed and soil up here, somehow.

Jeb also lets me know that he'll probably return to duty in a few days, once his wounds have healed fully. "There's really no sense in longer sick leaves around this place. Everyone's got to do what they've got to do, you get it?"

"What is your job, anyway?"

"I'm a scavenger. I go down to the lower levels, at great personal risk mind you, and find whatever might be useful to the rest of the village, then haul it back here."

"Mm-hm..." Silence falls between us, again, and I sit here and think of things. I'm still not at shape, but within a week I will be: I should perhaps start to consider what I will do then.

For now, there is enough work as it is, once I manage to bugger myself to get up from here and find some.

>>190350
Well, work on some more of the tasks we got yesterday. Check those messages, and the computer you haven't cracked yet.

Find out how long this place has been cut off from the rest of the world, and how many people there are. It has been a generation since the disaster. Everyone here was left for dead, or are the descendants of those left.

You had a team you were working with when you penetrated the facility right? Were you the last of them alive, or is it possible one of them made it out and reported back to the corporations about what was here?

How far is the mountain from civilization?

>>190363
I ask Jeb about how long it has been, and he responds: "Sixty years."

"Sixty? Really?"

"Well, fifty-nine. But yeah. It's been a while."

I agree. That is rather a long time for me to nap, or for the rest of the world to not do absolutely anything for this place. I think they may just have forgotten about us, or cast the whole thing under the mat. Jeb agrees.

We are at the eastern mountains, surrounded by hundreds of miles of desert at all directions. The closest city, last I heard (things can change in six decades), was nearly two hundred miles northwest from our current location, and it really wasn't much of a city to speak of anyway.

I do not know what happened to my team: we were separated a couple hours after breaking in here, and never saw any of them again. Some of them could have survived back out, certainly: more likely, though, I would say that they all either were trapped here along with the rest of us, or just died. In fact, after all these years, they're probably dead anyway.

>>190355
After spending some time chillin', I figure I should probably get back to work. I get up, telling Jeb I will go to the main computer of this place, seeing if I could crack it open.

I am shown the way to the computer, which turns out to be rather a big thing in the middle of the floor of some big room. It's humming rather loudly, glowing in a faint green light around the room. I reach with my remaining hand and get to work.

Turns out to be a lot harder nut to crack than those security computers, which I guess makes sense. And I suppose it would be a lot faster with two fully-functional hands, too, anyway. It takes me several hours to get past all the protections and firewalls, to the delicious data in the computer core.

I am contemplating on whether I should check out some of it myself, or leave it to the others, when, almost immediately after cracking the thing open, a small message pops up on the screen:

All the more eyes to see you with.

>>190407
Dammit. Find the camera access and try to cut any outside permissions in any sensitive areas.

>>190407

60 years. That's bad. That's really bad, actually. If the community is tapping into the mountain facility's power mains, and if the survivors haven't been able to service the generators, they should be reaching the end of their expected operational lifetimes. Fission power sources aren't generally designed to last more than 20 years without servicing and refueling. Even expensive radiothermal back-up generators, a low wattage but very durable solution, should be nearing their first half-life depending on the material used. If the facility uses geothermal power instead the mechanical parts of the generator are probably still long overdue for servicing.

None of that accounts for the accelerating effects water damage, battle damage, and scavengers could have had on the generators and power grid.

What sort of power supply do you run on, anyway?

>>190409
I am very startled about this sudden intrusion. Indeed, the first idea popping up in my mind is, if he can see me, to block the sight. Hence, taking out the cameras. There are no further messages as I hack deep into the computer, finding the camera controls and immediately closing them down.

I wait for some minutes, if there would be any more messages, but there aren't.

>>190420
I'm not entirely certain what kind of a power source this place has, but I would have to guess either nuclear or cold fusion energy. In either case, this is a very good point: we should have run out of power decades ago, if not end up as a huge crater in the face of the earth. As far as anybody knows, there is nobody to maintain the reactors - or anything else around here, for that matter - and even if there were, they would need some supplies and replacement parts eventually anyway.

Suffice to say, though, as much as this confuses me, I am very happy ab-

What did you think that would accomplish? I am still here. But you won't be for long.

>>190465
Trace these messages. Find where they're being sent from. Then lock them out.

It's possible this other hacker hacked your eyes, and is just pretending to display on the screen. Shake your head in small quick movements, to see if only the message box jumps around trying to keep up with the rest of the screen.

wait... you said your bones are transceiver controlled correct? rip out whatever it is you transmit to them with.

>>190471
What? My eyes? How could it- oh god!

I begin shaking my head quickly, to see whether the screen would keep up, but it stays precisely at the same location. I mean, it's not moving around. I look close to it... then quickly move my hand right on top of it! It doesn't momentarily jump on top of my hand, before realizing its position and getting back under it... it just stays there passively.

Whew, I guess it wasn't my eyes after all. That would have been incredibly scary. It probably also would have meant a traitor among us, since you could only do such a thing manually, directly at my head, while I was sleeping...

>>190466
That is not going to help you, a message says as I frantically begin my work to trace its origin. I've done this kind of a work before: searching down hackers for the government, boosting up the defenses of their own computers... once. I was young and needed the money. Don't judge me.

Anyway, it is easy enough a job to find out where the transmit is coming from. A map of the whole complex is displayed, centering to the place of origin of the signal. The whole screen garbles a little, and I knock it to get it right. Then I knock it again, because I think there should be some kind of a mistake here. It's not coming from around the city, as I first thought it would...

Told you.

It is coming halfway below the whole mountain, from the floor 14. That's a good fifteen floors from my current location, or thirteen floors lower than there should be any humans left in.

Go ahead and block me, then. It will do you no good. Your kind will- At this point, blocking further contact is easy. I target it everywhere in the entire city, so that there would be no more hacking to any computer around here.

>>190479
That would only serve to cripple me.

it's ether not human or a guy with a god complex. let's run around and do as many hacking jobs as we can and set up several counter-intrusion algorithms.

>>190526

OK now set up a single channel of communication to floor 14. Tell them that you want to talk, but exploiting Windows Messenger Service to pop up windows is not the best way to do it. If they protest, tell them one of your many war stories about infinite popup cascades. As bizzare as it sounds, these things on floor 14 could in fact be our allies and we don't even know it.

Questions to ask

1) What are you?
2) What happened to the mountain?
3) What do you want?
4) Whose kind are you talking about? Hackers?

Even if they lie to you, or mock you, the information could prove useful.

>>190526
Consider setting up a secure line to communicate with the entity. Find out what it wants.

>>190526

There are no saints in the hacking business, and as useful as the meme of a white hacker is, it is only propaganda.

>>190532
Seeing how this here computer is linked to every other computer in the city, I can use it to protect the whole place from hackers with several nice algorithms I don't get to use too often. On the other hand, this other person does seem rather like an amateur: the initial block, rather flimsy as it was, was apparently enough to keep him, or her, away entirely. Still, it's never bad to be too sure, so I spend some time bolstering up the defenses.

>>190539
>>190540
Really, I'm not sure this thing ever expected to face an accomplished hacker in a duel. I'm not sure it even knew I was one. Anyway, with all the protection put up, I set up a private, secure channel to chat him on with. Or her. Whatever. Here we go:

You think you're the only one who can play this game? You messed up with the wrong person, amateur: I've got you by the nads now.

It takes a while for anyone to respond, but eventually they do:

Who is this?

Hmm. Doesn't seem like the kind of a response I expected. Thought there'd be more gloating. I ask it about who, or what, it is and what it wants.

What? What are you talking about? Who are you?

Yes, very confusing, this. Its attitude would seem to have changed completely during this half an hour or so since I last talked to it. How should I approach this?

>>190846
Explain to them the messages you've been receiving and that the network trail led to them.

>>190848
The person I am talking to now does indeed not seem like the one I spoke (wrote?) to just a while back. I explain the situation to him, telling him about the messages, how I have been tracking them down, and how the leads ended there. I do not tell him of my location, although I'm sure he can guess.

What, so this is where they come from? He seems to have some awareness of what I'm talking about.

Yes.

There is no answer for a moment. Then,

Could you get the Elder in there?

>>190902
Do it.

>>190905
There's no reason to disobey: the Elder is the one dealing with this stuff around here anyway. I tell him to wait and run over to find the old man.

As I thought, I discover him from his office. I explain him the situation, what I've done and what I've learned, and he follows me back to the computer in a relative hurry to his old age.

"Do you know who it is?", I ask as we get back to the computer center.

"No idea," he responds, and gets to the computer. "No peeking. Stick around until I know what's going on."

And so I move back and sit on the floor, waiting. Hours pass in boredom: my only pastime is to look at the Elder and try to figure out his mood from what he's seeing. He is switching from confused to excited, with scared somewhere in the middle. Evidently it's something big.

Eventually he just stares at the computer for a moment, then walks back to me. "So how long will it take till you're in some sort of shape?"

"Um, about a week. Why?"

"Because I've got a job for you outside. Better get ready."

Another two hours has passed since. The Elder has explained me relatively little about the whole thing, and I have, with his permission, passed on the same information to both Jeb and Namad. I have also finally managed to cover my head with some makeshift ski mask, which lets me look fairly approachable around here but probably won't matter outside.

All of sudden, I've been thrusted straight into an important and dangerous task, one that only I can apparently accomplish, and yet of which I don't even know all that much. I'm not sure what I should think about this.

I have a computer map of the mountain uploaded in my head, currently showing an optimal route to the floor 14 and my destination. It has been told that my hand is ready by tomorrow and can be installed immediately. Additional strength and durability fixes, along with whatever other upgrades I would like to have, will be done over the next week. I will also need to equip myself with anything I think I might need in the hostile world outside the village.

Well, at least I have time.

An anti-golem cannon on one shoulder and an anti-vangaurd bladelauncher on the other.

Also learn magnetomancy.

and change your name to Mordre

>>190924
What options do we have here? Obviously SOME kind of weapon is needed.

>>190929
>>190936
Suffice to say, I need some weaponry. It's a hostile world out there. My new arm comes with a similar laser than the one my old one had, which will work in a pinch, but probably won't work against anything too big or the like. Besides it, I can choose from some pistols, rifles, machineguns, and other standard weapons.

Sadly, there are no Bladelaunchers around here, and the largest cannon we have here probably wouldn't even put a dent on a golem. Let's hope there will not be golems.

That's for guns, then. I probably don't require anything to eat or drink, but there may be something else besides guns that I need nonetheless. Can't just strut in there without preparing. So, what else?

A crowbar would be nice

>>190944
A rifle should be good for stronger enemies. Your arm laser is best for small fry. I suppose you could carry a backup pistol too but it seems a bit redundant.

A rope and grapnel is always handy.

Well, shotguns are great at close range, have a lot of power. Submachine guns arn't super-powerful, but they're useful at close range and for putting a lot of bullets out. Assault rifles are your jack of all trades, and machine guns are heavier assault rifles. Sniper rifles are your go-to for long range.

So. The situation we're in is pretty much close range only, yes? Go with a shotgun, submachine gun (Silenced, if possible), and a pistol (Again, silenced if possible). ...If they'll allow you that much, at least.

For other stuff... Knife and/or a taser for melee, multitool, body armor if they have it, maybe a flashlight and/or some flares, a grenade or two, annnnnnnd a backpack. That's aobut it, off the top of my head.

Vic 2010/06/09(Wed)13:31 No. 191009 ID: 1177ca
File 127611549047.jpg - (58.39KB , 648x972 , Crowbar1.jpg )

NEW HARDWARE FOUND. SEEKING DRIVERS... DRIVER PATH?
C:\
DRIVERS FOUND. INSTALL DRIVERS? [Y/N] Y
INSTALLING... 22%... 41%... 68%... 100%... COMPLETE.

I sit up on the operation table, and flex my new fingers a bit. It tingles, the same way my first arm was installed. I check out all my equipment: my laser is still there, as are my hacking tools and wires. I shoot a couple targets with the laser, and find it pleasantly accurate.

It is the second day after the day I was given this new task. I am still doing inventory, packing, and receiving upgrades and maintenance. I should be ready in six more days.

>>190978
Ah, yes. Crowbar: useful for opening locked places, bashing in some heads, and it's stylish to boot! I feel pretty amazing when I wield one of these. It's like it did all the speaking for me, leaving me no need to ever open my mouth.

For some reason, it makes me feel a bit nerdy, too.

>>190983
>>190988
I add a shotgun and a SMG to my list, and a pistol for backup. There are no silencers, unfortunately, which may become a problem later on. I'll also pick myself a knife, some rope and a grappling hook, a multitool, a flashlight (can't be too sure: even my night vision could fail), some flares, a few granades, and some body armor to cover me with. And a backpack to carry those things in.

These items are all added to my list. Anything else I should pack, upgrade on myself, or otherwise take care of around here, before I go? I'll have a whole week for all that. But for now, excuse me, I have a hammock to install...

>>190465

Cold fusion devices use a durable crystalline matrix that facilitates dt-dt fusion. The crystals are hideously expensive to dope, and have to be grown in a zero-g environment for positive power generation (crystals grown in gravity are appropriate for neutrino generators but you won't ever be able to use them to get more power out than you put in). Aside from the expensive involved in manufacture, a cold fusion generator needs a source of deuterium fuel and all the machinery that goes with power generation.

Most cold fusion plants use the heat from the fusor to create steam, which drives a turbine in the traditional fashion. A few, notably ones for use in naval submarines, use solid-state thermoelectric differential devices to general electric power. These are expensive, slightly less efficient than steam, and difficult to repair if problems arise, but they're completely silent and very durable. The best-case scenario is that the corporation funding this effort went for broke on the generators and went with one of the military designs.

That still doesn't account for where the fuel is coming from though. There may be an automated dt refinery on-site. If there is, it's a wonder it hasn't failed yet. 60 years is a long time to not service the pumps required to move water for the Girdler process.

>>191046
Yes... it is weird, but it is also rather a lucky thing for us. If the power had failed when it should have, everyone here would have died a long time ago. But yeah, considering how low I'm going, I might as well check out the generator. It is at the very bottom, sure, but hey, I'd already be going a lot deeper than any human ever, so what'd a couple dozen more floors do?

Right?

>>191009
>Anything else?

Isn't it obvious? You need companions! You're going on a dangerous mission, and cannot survive alone.

Press-gang Jeb and Namad into joining you. They cannot refuse such an important job.

Six days later I rise up from the operating table, where finishing touches on me have just been completed. I flex my newly improved body.

My bones have been reinforced with some light yet durable metals, rendering me much more resistant for the wear and tear of regular daily strain, although I still could hardly take a bullet or even the claws of one of those beasties outside. I have an actual nervous system now, as well, backed up with crude but fuctional mechanical muscle, letting me work with quite some dexterity and strength. Not to the level of what a full physical body could do, but... well, closer. My central processing unit has been upgraded, my internal "organs" replaced for newer and less-used models, letting me function for quite a while now without a fear of crashes or shut-downs. My old system could have crashed at any minute and not ever turn back up again.

I take my new body on a bit of a test drive, jogging across the hallways and checking out the forest. I experience a certain amount of weariness, something I have not felt at all since dying, but it passes by very quickly, my cybernetics being quite good with this stuff.

Packing up my things and wearing my body armor and other stuff, I start to consider whether there would be anything else left I would like to do...

>>191394
Hmm. Some company would be nice, both helpful and so that I wouldn't go mad all alone in there. With this in my mind, I head over to Namad's workshop, finding her in front of her computer as usual. She smiles as I enter: "Hey, how's it going? Do you like your new stuff?"

"Yeah. It's good. Thanks."

"Don't thank me, I didn't do anything. So what can I do for you?"

I explain her the business I am in. Crazy as it might sound, I really wouldn't want to head in there all by myself. Namad frowns at my words. "Hey, I can understand if you're scared or whatnot, but I'm not of the fighting type at all. Couldn't do much there but be a burden and drop dead. Sorry."

Her words ring true, sadly. Guess I'm being silly about this. "Should I ask your brother, too?"

"Doubt he'd want to come. He can fight, sure, but we've never gone that deep before, and I wouldn't want to lose him there either. You're on your own on this one, lad."

Sigh. I wave my hand at her in goodbye and leave the room.

I head downstairs, to the lower guard station. It has been a relatively calm week, with not much sighting of any kind of an enemy during it, which is never a bad thing. The guard robot is there, vigilantly going around the floor, knowing no rest from the job. I guess it's pretty cool.

I... think I'm ready. At least, as ready as I could ever be. I have double-checked my equipment, I am (relatively) heavily armed, my cause I just (I think), my will is strong(ish). I am heading into hostile territory all by myself...

Give me an excuse to stay, brain.

>>191432

Ask if you can have the robot to help you.

You're going deeper than they have in the 60 years, you don't know why, you don't know what you're expected to do, and you don't know who you'll be meeting at the end.

Ask for the robot.

>>191432
Don't be a pussy. What about weapons? Did you get everything?

>>191433
This.

>>191433
>>191436
With this sudden, very last-minute idea, I rush back up and find the Elder, asking for his permission to take the machine with me. My logic is sound: it is relatively safe up here, humans alone can keep the city secure very well, while down there a whole new, dangerous world, awaits, where I can never be sure to expect, and I have an important task to do.

To my great relief, he agrees! The supreme command of the robot has been given to me. I should give him a name.

Mere minutes later, I stand at the very edge of human-controlled territory. Beyond this step, naught but danger and death await me. I have a map, but I must not expect it to be accurate or true, for even in the upper floors things have changed more than they would have any right to: who knows what awaits me in the lower reaches of this accursed place?

My map, more or less, tells me to always take the nearest stairs down. During the first five floors, it notes several blockades and collapses where I cannot go further but must find a different path, of which they suggest many as well. In other places, I could use holes in the floor or walls, perhaps even make my own. After the fifth floor (or floor 32, as it's called), however, all advice ends, and it's pretty much just red line going down across a commonly known staircase: everyone I spoke to admits that it's likely to have blocked at several places as well, but nobody really knows anything about it.

Well... no point angsting about that. Down we go...

I get almost to the second floor when the growling begins. My night vision sees nothing, although something clatters in the darkness. It begins.

So why ARE you being sent down? What's your mission?

inb4 IT'S A TRAP

Sounds like they discovered some survivors on the 14th floor, and you're being sent down to evacuate them from Hell.

heh... "discovered" "survivors"

>>191468
They didn't tell me. I'm not sure why: don't they trust me, or what? Do they think the enemy is going to catch me and torture the information out of me? Or that I will defect? What? I don't know!

>>191469
This would sound logical, although I have no idea how they could have survived for that long.

There is no more growling. I continue on forwards, and get to the next set of stairs before I see something jump at m-

>>191582
Vic? Vic! VIIIIC!

>>191582
Shoot it! Whatever it is!

Shake it off and shoot it!

>>191810
One of those big dog creatures again. As it knocks on to me, I lose my balance and fall towards the stairs, but manage to stop my fall by catching the railing. The thing is dislodged, falling to the staircase behind me, and I aim my arm laser and fire.

With a pleasant THWIP, the thing yelps one more time and falls to the ground. Another like that tries to get a jump on me, but it is stopped by my robot buddy, who simply catches it from the air and casually smashes it against the wall, again and again until it doesn't move.

I regain my footing and examine myself. My newly reinforced body withstood the assault much better than the last time. There are no real injuries, only a bit of an ache. The guard robot looks at me: if it had facial features, I could perhaps claim it looked worried. "I'm fine," I tell it, and it stops.

We carry on downstairs. The scenery around here is getting all the more shattered, the floor uneven, the hallways broken and collapsed in many places. I find a light switch, and try to turn it on, but only manage to produce a quick shower of sparks from the ceiling. There is some red on the walls, dried and rust coloured, which I assume to be blood. But there are no bodies anywhere, not even skeletons. It worries me a lot.

To my dismay, I soon find the pathway blocked: according to the map, this should be an open path, and the collapse does look quite recent. I do not know of its severity, nor whether we could together clear it up. There were several passageways and doorways going both left and right quite recently, and there is a door on my immediate left as well. I should hope one of them will lead me to the other side, so that I may continue.

>>191832
... Lets name him Mordre

>>191832
Go left!

Go right!

>>191832
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AP3H_Tz8WXk

>>191939

I can't contest such a heavy argument, I'm changing my vote to left.

>>191859
>>191939
Well, no reason to try and go a long route, if there is a perfectly viable way here already. I head left: the door falls down on the floor with a loud clatter as I pass.

Judging from the old, torn posters on the wall depicting human anatomy, and the few very distinctive tools on the table, this was once a medical room, probably for routine inspection. No complicated heart surgeries done here. An old computer lies on the table, possibly functional. There is a crack on the right wall, large enough for a human like myself to enter.

From the glint of my eye, I almost see something glowing in the drawer, but when I look, there is nothing. Mordre (yup) walks in with me, and seems quite interested about the crack: he lurches close to it and looks to the other side for some moments, before straightening up again and looking at me.

There is a faint noise in the distance, from where I came from. It tells me I should not tarry around.

>>192004
If you think you don't have time, take the computer. Otherwise, fiddle with it. But fiddling with it seems like a bad idea, and I would probably hold off on that for now.

>>192004
Maybe it's radioactive?!

>>192011

Radioactive! That can't be good.

When we get back we need to put lasers in Mordre's eyes.
Ignore the computer, we need to press on.

>>192069
I wouldn't much like hanging around when all that clattering ald growling and howling gets until here, so yeah... one last glance on the computer, which probably wouldn't hold anything inportant anyway, and through the gap.

But it is a good thing I gave it a bit of a look before, or I would've been in for some surprise.

Much of the floor is gone. There is nothing but void, an endless fall to the seemingly black abyss. I look above, and spy a similar massive hole through the ceiling. Metal bars prod out of the remaining floor, wires and powerlines hang from then and rock gently in the air, giving an occasional burst of sparks. Apparently, whatever collapsed the hallway outside did some damage all around.

There is a bit of a floor right on the other side: I carefully get through the crack, and stand on it, taking support from the wall. I see a door on the right of me, leading back to the original path, and I think I can reach it with a couple easy jumps. I also consider using my rope and descending right into the black depths of this place, but then I would be hopelessly lost. It could even lead straight past my objective. Or on the way of whatever did this.

The voices following me approach swiftly. Mordre looks back to the door I came from for a moment, and if I didn't know better, I would say he looks rather anxious.

>>192524

Better take cover and get ready for a fight. If you can hear them already you don't have time to escape. Get yourself situated behind cover and then listen to them. If they're speaking a language you know and they seem non-threatening, call out to them and demand they identify themselves. If they speak a language you don't know, or they seem threatening in their speech, don't challenge them. Just kill them.

Jump into the gap.

FIND 105 HORSE POINTS

>>192524
Hop through the door to the original path. NOW.
If you can take Mordre with you, that is.

>>192814
I turn, I watch, and I wait for the whatever show up and enter the room. I can hear their footsteps now, as well, swiftly approaching my hiding place. Mordre is next to me, hiding behind the crack as well as I am, but getting increasingly agitated.

Soon enough, I see the creature follow me on the room. It seems vaguely human, although it has dirty, ragged clothes and dishevelled hair, is swooning around like a drunkard, and talking to itself: "It smells no delicious man-meat, but it sees something, it follows... it followed a guard? Where did guard go?"

Whatever creature this may be, it would seem to be out for blood. As it turns around ("It sees them!") and prepared to attack us, I raise my artificial arm and take aim. I think I can take it, but I need to be careful not to fall in the pit behind me or anything.

>>194058
Shoot it then try moving sideways so you're not in front of the pit anymore.

Do you have any hand to hand combat skills? You could try to toss it into the pit using its own momentum against it.

>>194079
Become an expert in CQC
Change name to Snake.

>>194079
>>194167
The thing swoons, then suddenly lurch towards us with unexpected speed! I open fire and hit the creature in the shoulder, but it barely flinches, instead jumping straight through the crack to our side. Although I manage to dodge the worst of it, it catches me on the side and takes me along with it as it falls down to the abyss...

Mordre, bless him, is right there to save me. He catches me by the arm and manages to stop me from falling down. My assailant grabs my leg in an attempt to stop itself from falling, or at least take me down along with it.

Think fast!

>>195289

Shoot its arm! Shoot its arm!

>>195289
KICK! KICK LIKE A MOTHERFUCKER!

>>195289

Scream like a frightened little girl!

>>195289
This is what we have the bullet-based guns for. Shoot the shit out of him.

>>195345
>>195587
>>195586
"Gah!" Instinctively, I draw my pistol and shoot the creature in the arm, but it manages to keep its grip of me. I need to shoot twice more before it finally releases me and falls, screaming, into the void. Some seconds later I can hear an echo of something clattering.

So much for that little episode, I think. Unless it can climb up walls or something.

Mordre pulls me back up, and I catch my breath for some seconds - figuratively speaking. There would not seem to be anyone else following us for now, so we can decide our next move in a relative peace.

Check the computer and plot several other possible routes in-case we run into another cave in.

That was a close call. Check the computer and then move on.

Also thank Mordre for saving your ass.

>>196397
Thanks, buddy.

>>195742
>>196196
The computer contains mainly medical details of this place, examination reports and such. They have all been signed more than sixty years ago, and seem to not contain too much of interest. I see no weird disease outbreaks or anything like that.

I do see, though, the very last report, from fifty-nine years ago: it consists of Doctor Alchrekt Kelm, his condition listed as deceased, and reason of death as massive blood loss and the missing of both lungs. That is disturbing.

With nothing else to find, I shut down the computer and consider my options. I still have the two routes: one down through the pits, the other jumping over them back to the main path.

>>197331
First, figure out how far you can jump. You should be pretty light on your feet, considering you're not much more than a skeleton at the moment. If you're confident in your ability to get across, do so.

Wait, can Mordre jump too? Depending on how stable the floor is and how heavy he is, him going first might be safer for you.

>>197341
Mordre could throw you, however if you don't think he can jump it he should just stay and guard our back.
I don't want to lose our bro. He's pretty chill.