Jan. 23rd, 2021

You feel weak, your body won't move no matter how you try, and you are falling, away from everything you know and love. Away from everything you need to accomplish. If you could just reach out, maybe you could hold on to it, claw your way back. But it's a useless endeavour, you fall unconscious, and your mind goes blank except for poetry and a familiar voice.


O mother Enitharmon, wilt thou bring forth other sons?
To cause my name to vanish, that my place may not be found,
For I am faint with travail,
Like the dark cloud disburden'd in the day of dismal thunder.

My roots are brandish'd in the heavens, my fruits in earth beneath
Surge, foam and labour into life, first born and first consum'd!
Consumed and consuming!
Then why shouldst thou, accursed mother, bring me into life?


You wake on the ground in a cave, cold, wet, and sticky. It smells of rotting flesh. Your objective is clear, but you can't recall a name or face. Nothing else about your memory of him is changed, but for some reason the name "Vergil" just won't come to you, and you couldn't describe how he looks if your life depended on it. But at least your body starts to respond to your will, slowly regaining enough strength to carry on.
You feel weak, your body won't move no matter how you try, and you are falling, away from everything you know and love. Away from everything you need to accomplish. If you could just reach out, maybe you could hold on to it, claw your way back. But it's a useless endeavour, you fall unconscious, and your mind goes blank except for poetry and a familiar voice.


O mother Enitharmon, wilt thou bring forth other sons?
To cause my name to vanish, that my place may not be found,
For I am faint with travail,
Like the dark cloud disburden'd in the day of dismal thunder.

My roots are brandish'd in the heavens, my fruits in earth beneath
Surge, foam and labour into life, first born and first consum'd!
Consumed and consuming!
Then why shouldst thou, accursed mother, bring me into life?


You wake on the ground in a cave, cold, wet, and sticky. It smells of rotting flesh. Your objective is clear, but you can't recall a name or face. Nothing else about your memory of him is changed, but for some reason the name "Vergil" just won't come to you, and you couldn't describe how he looks if your life depended on it. But at least your body starts to respond to your will, slowly regaining enough strength to carry on.
You feel weak, your body won't move no matter how you try, and you are falling, away from everything you know and love. Away from everything you need to accomplish. If you could just reach out, maybe you could hold on to it, claw your way back. But it's a useless endeavour, you fall unconscious, and your mind goes blank except for poetry and a familiar voice.


O mother Enitharmon, wilt thou bring forth other sons?
To cause my name to vanish, that my place may not be found,
For I am faint with travail,
Like the dark cloud disburden'd in the day of dismal thunder.

My roots are brandish'd in the heavens, my fruits in earth beneath
Surge, foam and labour into life, first born and first consum'd!
Consumed and consuming!
Then why shouldst thou, accursed mother, bring me into life?


You wake on the ground in a cave, cold, wet, and sticky. It smells of rotting flesh. Your objective is clear, but you can't recall a name or face. Nothing else about your memory of him is changed, but for some reason the name "Vergil" just won't come to you, and you couldn't describe how he looks if your life depended on it. But at least your body starts to respond to your will, slowly regaining enough strength to carry on.

Unless you're Glory, in which case the rest is the same, but you wake in a library.
You feel weak, your body won't move no matter how you try, and you are falling, away from everything you know and love. Away from everything you need to accomplish. If you could just reach out, maybe you could hold on to it, claw your way back. But it's a useless endeavour, you fall unconscious, and your mind goes blank except for poetry and a familiar voice.


O mother Enitharmon, wilt thou bring forth other sons?
To cause my name to vanish, that my place may not be found,
For I am faint with travail,
Like the dark cloud disburden'd in the day of dismal thunder.

My roots are brandish'd in the heavens, my fruits in earth beneath
Surge, foam and labour into life, first born and first consum'd!
Consumed and consuming!
Then why shouldst thou, accursed mother, bring me into life?


You wake on the ground in a cave, cold, wet, and sticky. It smells of rotting flesh. Your objective is clear, but you can't recall a name or face. Nothing else about your memory of him is changed, but for some reason the name "Vergil" just won't come to you, and you couldn't describe how he looks if your life depended on it. But at least your body starts to respond to your will, slowly regaining enough strength to carry on.
You drift like you're floating in water. It's almost relaxing, actually. As long as you don't think too hard that what you're floating in may be bottomless, because under you lies only a deep darkness that only the ocean can provide.

Then, something grabs you and drags you deeper, down, down, down into the abyssal depths. You can't breathe, but that's not on the forefront of your mind now, is it?

There is a mounting sense of anxiety and dread.

Who do you want to become? Will you even get to see tomorrow? What if all roads lead to ████████? Can you still stay '███'? If people see the ████ you, will they think less of you? Will they feel cheated?

You want to live. Even if it's a ███, even if your hands must be covered in █████, you want to live. You want to be '███'.

Finally, a voice pierces through the darkness. It's a woman's voice.

"My, how unfortunate. Your journey ends before it even begins.

"... Just kidding. That would be terribly boring! I suppose I can do the boy a favour just this once."

You feel someone grab your arm and pull you up to the surface.

...

When you come to, you are standing somewhere else.
[The first time you try to open your eyes, there is nothing but red.]




[Questions bubble up, voiceless:

What will you keep?

What will you change?

What will you do?
]





[And then your eyes open.]
In the flicker of a candle-flame, in the stir of still water, in the fluttering of flower petals, there is a voice...

Once, there were...
...shadows in the window.
...footsteps at the gates of life.
...whispering at the door:
"Should I live or die? Am I living or dead?"
"To know the world is to choose it," says the Void.


In the flicker of a candle-flame, in the stir of still water, in the fluttering of flower petals, there is a voice...

Once, there were...
...shadows in the window.
...footsteps at the gates of life.
...whispering at the door:
"Should I live or die? Am I living or dead?"
"To know the world is to choose it," says the Void.


[The first time you try to open your eyes, there is nothing but red.]




[Questions bubble up, voiceless:

What will you keep?

What will you change?

What will you do?
]





[And then your eyes open.]
You drift like you're floating in water. It's almost relaxing, actually. As long as you don't think too hard that what you're floating in may be bottomless, because under you lies only a deep darkness that only the ocean can provide.

Then something grabs you and drags you deeper, down, down, down into the abyssal depths. You can't breathe, but that's not on the forefront of your mind now, is it?

There is a mounting sense of anxiety and dread.

Who do you want to become? Will you even get to see tomorrow? What if all roads lead to ████████? Can you still stay '███'? If people see the ████ you, will they think less of you? Will they feel cheated?

You want to live. Even if it's a ███, even if your hands must be covered in █████, you want to live. You want to be '███'.

Finally, a voice pierces through the darkness. It a woman's voice.

"My, how unfortunate. Your journey ends before it even begins."

"... Just kidding. That would be terribly boring! I suppose I can do the boy a favour just this once."

You feel someone grab your arm and pull you up to the surface.

...

When you come to, you are standing somewhere else.

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