StoryFinal

You speak, stepping back slowly, revolver leveled, though its barrel is empty. The monster bares its fangs, barking a sound like harsh laughter. At that signal, the smaller mutant you shot in the leg hurls itself at you, followed by the alpha crashing down. [[Not even bones are left for the scavengers… -> GameOver]]

You speak, backing away slowly, still leveling the empty revolver at the creature. It bares its teeth, barks angrily, then seizes its dead packmate in its jaws and turns back toward the forest. [["Holy fuck… it actually worked?" -> AlphaPeaceStreet]]

You mutter the words as you edge backward. The creature bares its teeth, barking out something almost like a laugh, then grabs its dead kin in its jaws and slinks back into the forest. [["Holy shit… it actually worked?" -> Wounded]]

After regaining your composure, you continue to walk quickly. There is one last stretch to the checkpoint at the entrance to the [[city -> Suburb]].

Big D narrows his little eyes, smirk tugging at his mask. “Ayo, you ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed, huh? What brings you to the Pit, homie? What you huntin’ for in here?” “Sorry,” you mutter, rubbing your temple. “I’ve been marching all day just to reach the city, barely made it past a pack of mutants{(if: $Chance1 is "1") [ and spent an hour running from flesh-eating plants in the woods.]}{(else:) [ and clawed my way through the damn labyrinth you people call a city.]} So yeah, I’m a little slow.” “Ha! That’s a helluva story,” Big D’s laugh booms, full of irony but laced with respect. “But still… you didn’t answer my question.” [["I’m looking for work. You look like a recruiter." -> BigD2]]

“Straight to business?” Big D grins, smoke curling from his mask. “I ain’t no recruiter, baby. But I know a cat who might hook you up.... Or more like a fox.” “I’d be grateful,” you reply. “Name’s Vincent. Fox-man hybrid, fancy-ass suit, shiny implants, mechanical jaw. Always playin’ cards like his life depends on it,” Big D scans the room but shakes his head. “Nah, fool musta dipped already. But he’ll be here in the morning, sittin’ at that table, shufflin’ till his fingers bleed.” “Got it,” You nod, filing the description away. “Recruiter for the Black Vanguard,” Big D adds. “He don’t mind dealin’ with nameless pups like you.” “Maybe nameless, but I can handle myself,” you retort. “I’m not some green rookie.” Big D chuckles, tone sharpening: “That ain’t your call, guppy. You prove yourself, then Vincent decides if you worth his time.” [["Who is this Vincent really? You mentioned cards, is he some gambler?" -> WhoIsVincent]] [["Wait. Tell me more about the Vanguard." -> Vanguard]] [["Alright. I’ll look for him tomorrow. Can I get a room here?" -> Sleep]]

{(if: $Wounded is true) [“Damn, you really don’t know?” Big D feigns offense. “That’s a (text-colour:green)[Mad Doctor]. My signature, baby. Stims, juice, growth juice, splash of pomegranate. Will wake the dead, pump energy into a syphilitic corpse. Shit’s medicine for the body and the soul.”]}{(else:) [“That right there? (text-colour:green)[Nuclear Tit-Bit]. Mushroom beer, vodka, tequila, rum, lemon… and whole lotta Love. And by Love, I mean cocaine.”]} {(if: $Wounded is true) [[Drink it ->Healing]]}{(else:) [[Take a gulp ->Energy]]} [[Push the glass away: "I’m here for work. You look like a recruiter." -> BigD2]]

Big D laughs, his whole bulk shaking. “Hah! You think I named myself? Nah, that’s the streets, baby. They call me Big D ‘cause of my massive, enormous, goddamn titanic —” “Yeah, I don’t need to hear the end of that,” you cut him off. “…Dedication,” he finishes with a grin. “Dedication to this bar, to keepin’ these cutthroats half-sane. Oh, and D? That’s Dexter. But yo, what //you// think I meant?” [["What’s this, then?" – point at the bubbling glass -> BigDDrink]]

Why build an entire fab for chips and microtech when you can toss a fresh humanoid into a lab with a flesh-bender and a techie? Out comes a brain-core that a century ago would’ve been called a supercomputer. A living brain, suitably juiced up with mid-grade implants, can handle monstrous data loads, all while serving as a loyal, flexible, not-quite-artificial intelligence, with its own built-in antivirus. The only catch: you have to scoop the brain out of its skull, string the nerves into cabling, break the mind inside and chain it forever in digital purgatory. A trifle. Isn’t it? Especially since it’s literally become dangerous to use regular generative AIs. Back in the Overlords’ time, some genius birthed a virus that could cause a machine AI to choke on its own slop and self-destruct, dragging entire databases into oblivion with them. [[Back -> Checkpoint1]]

Black Vanguard. A paramilitary corporation that’s been churning out weapons and hardware since the days of the old Overlords. “We are the law, the power, the shield of Lunard,” their slogan goes. In practice, they’re just another junta, barely better than the city’s bandits, with whom they happily share turf and trade. After all, to be a shield for Lunard doesn’t mean to shield the people who live in it. Your clan did business with them, but only once or twice. The Vanguard prefers to take what it needs by force. And when they do strike a deal? They’ll gnaw for every coin, squeeze you dry, and turn your husk into corpse-bars for the barracks mess. [[So, no worse than the rest. Maybe even a little better:they at least pretend to keep order. -> Checkpoint0]]

You ram the canister straight into its open maw. Metal clangs against teeth, before the beast can react, its jaws snap shut. The canister bursts inside its throat. Mago-fuel gushes out over its muzzle, down its gullet and across its chest. The mutant howls. It thrashes wildly, trying to shake the sticky filth from its hide. But it already soaks its fur. You don’t hesitate. The revolver is aimed square at the monster. Bang! Green fire blooms like a tidal wave across its body. The tentacles on its neck ignite, writhing flames. It spins, bellows, until the blaze devours everything. The wounded runt still twitching by the roadside tucks its tail and vanishes into the thickets. At last, the huge beast crashes to the asphalt, its massive carcass burning out. [["Holy fuck… it actually worked?" -> AlphaPeaceStreet]]

You hurl the canister into its jaws and snap the revolver up to fire. But the beast never leaps, the massive paw bats it aside like a ball. You pull the trigger. Flash. Flame. The bullet grazes the edge and the mago-fuel ignites, but far from where you aimed. With a roar, the giant beast slams into you before you can even drop the weapon. Jaws crush your throat. The world shreds apart. [[Not even bones are left for the scavengers… -> GameOver]]

You’re too fast for this bastard. Your powerful strike caves in its skull with a wet crunch, and the creature crumples to the ground. But distraction costs you. The alpha crashes into you at full speed, hurling you through the air. You slam down on the asphalt, skid meters across it, then scramble to your feet, just in time to see its gaping maw rushing at you. [["Have some fuel, bastard!" -> Canister]] [["Eatl lead!" -> ShootDeath]]

You clear the suburb and come to the real gate to the city. Lunard. They call it the cradle of legends, the city of opportunities. Great names rose here, best adventurers and mercenaries of the new age: Lord Fortuna, Fullmetal Jack, Hagane Odoriko, and others your clan used to trade stories about. They came back from the Forbidden Lands with sacks of artifacts or with new, inhuman gifts. Reality, as always, is far less appealing than stories. A neon-lit hotbed of mutants, bandits, mercenaries and murderers. A stinking hole where even the houses have mutated: eyes in place of window frames, toothy maws where doors should be, gnarly limbs where porches once were. Your clan rolled through Lunard a few times, peddling implants and drugs to the local gangs. But today you don’t come here for trade. You’ve already sold everything you couldn’t carry. [[Only now it looks even less civilized than you remember. -> Checkpoint0]]

The city gate looks like a fortress built by paranoids, preparing for war, or like a warzone already. The broad highway you walked up ends at a massive blockhouse, more a mountain of concrete slabs and scrap than a checkpoint. Houses for dozens of meters around are reduced to heaps, warning signs with mine symbols protrude from the wreckage. A pair of armored vehicles sit parked, tents and crates hulking beside them. Tall concrete walls stretch left and right as far as you can see, with sandbags, barbed wire and anti-tank hedgehogs littering the ground before them. About a dozen rifle-armed mercenaries of the [[Black Vanguard -> BlackVanguard]] watch the road. Dark figures in black cloaks, gas masks glinting with red lenses in the gloom, like grim reapers waiting for prey. But the scene is only grim at first glance. From one of the vehicles heavy metal hammers out the rhythm of a beat, and three fighters sitting on crates laugh and pound something harder than rhythm into their veins. A spotlight snatches you as you approach. Under the muzzle of several mounted guns you’re shepherded up to the blockhouse. {(if: $Mind is true)[You take in the scene quick. The discipline looks thin, firepower is mostly theater. If you wanted, you could probably slip into the city unnoticed.]} [[Move forward -> Checkpoint1]]

They march you inside the blockhouse. In an office cluttered with beer cans and lit by an interactive panel sits a creature that looks like a slug spliced with a mantis, a gas mask fused to its face. It stares, bored, into a three-dimensional live-leak hologram. But it’s not the clerk that arrests your attention, it’s the wall beside the door. A wall of meat. Slick and pulsing, latticed with tendrils and nerve endings, coiled around a dust-caked vat. Inside, floating in solution, a human brain swollen with implants. A [[bio-computer -> BioComputer]], that’s what it is. Pricey kit, delicate as hell. Your entire clan’s wealth could have bought maybe a handful, and moving one without damaging it is like juggling flaming knives blindfolded. Good thing you never needed to. The slug’s eyestalks swivel to you, scanning from boots to brow. A button press, and the wall convulses. A shard of human skull on a tendril peels free, bobbing closer like a grotesque lantern. It circles you, slick and obscene, a creature or a bio-instrument, it’s hard to tell. “A nomad?” The slug’s voice is wet, croaking, its attention finally tearing away from the video to a spreadsheet. “Which clan? Show the Eye your tribal tattoo. And quit pulling faces, it’s standard procedure. We’ll also need a blood sample and a body scan.” [["Since when did getting into the city require so much hustle?" -> SlugQuestion]] [["What’s next, you want me to piss in a plastic cup?" -> Slug1]] [["Let’s just get it over with. Ash Serpents clan." -> Slug]]

You pass beneath the arch into a vast hall stretching far ahead. The low ceiling is held up by ornate columns, flanked on all sides by endless rows of stone sarcophagi. Almost all have been broken open. Inside lie rusted armor and bones crumbling to dust. Clearly, looters have picked this place over, many times, despite all the efforts of the Watchers. Even the bronze nameplates have been pried from certain tombs. And yet, as you walk deeper, you see no shambling dead, no wailing shades. Only silence, dust, and the dry, stagnant air. This is no mere crypt or catacomb, rather an entire underground ziggurat, almost untouched by the war that raged above. Only in a few places has the floor split, the ceiling sagged. A ziggurat that may soon serve as your own grave. But none of the sarcophagi hold Ezekiel’s interest. He prowls the tomb without fatigue, eyes sharp, searching for something known only to him. [[No choice but to keep up ->Crypt2]]

“A cure?” the slug croaks in irritation. “The only cure a bum like you can afford is that iron on your hip.” The mutant nods toward the revolver in your holster. “So if you see them pus–boils showin’ up on your skin, do everyone a favor and put a bullet in your own skull.” [["Great advice. Fine, let’s just get this over with. I’m Ash Serpents. Here’s the tattoo." -> Slug]]

Having finished, the paragonian speaks: “All clear let us be... open it. And stand back at once.” Approaching the sarcophagus, a chill runs over your skin. The statue of the unknown Overlord seems to be looking straight at you: judging, warning — “Do not disturb me.” “Don’t dawdle,” Pavel pushes you. “Help.” He starts heaving at the lid. [[Obey -> End1]]

Panting and straining, you and Pavel heave the stone lid aside. It topples to the floor and splits in two with a rumble. The lizard-man peers in and grunts in surprise: “Shit! Mage! Just dust and old bones in here!” “That’s all I needed,” Ezekiel replies from behind. {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [A hiss erupts, the same sound as the psionic strike of the Watchers. And Mercury’s desperate cry cuts the air. ]}In the next second an unseen force clamps down on Pavel. He chokes, can’t draw a breath, and his body is lifted off the floor. You whirl around and see Ezekiel, mask tossed back from his face. His left hand is raised and clenched into a fist, the air around it seems to boil. {(if: $NotTime is true) [["I only have one question. Why all this?" ->BestEnd]]}{(if: $NotTime is false)[["What the hell are you doing!?" ->End1.1]]} [[Defend ->End1.2]]

Mercury claps her hands, breaking the tension with a flourish. “All right, enough! We’re going on a mission, not staging cockfights.” Pavel just shakes his head and goes back to the terminal. The sniper drops from the roof, holding the rifle as if it weighs nothing. “Yeah, Pav’s prickly,” she says cheerfully. “He’s nervous, he just won’t admit it.” You notice the lenses hide not human eyes but three pairs of black beads, like a spider’s. It’s unnerving against her otherwise human face. “But you are kind of scrawny. Not very impressive. Not like my baby,” she murmurs, running a hand along the barrel. [["Is that a handheld AA gun, or are you just so glad to see me?" -> GunTalk1]] {(if: $SniperTalked is false)[["Unusual eyes. But why the goggles?" -> GogglesTalk1]]} [["So, you're not nervous about going to the Forbidden Lands?" -> MissionTalk1]]

Mercury moves a little closer and sighs, saying: “You shouldn't do that. We all need to cover each other's backs. We need to at least try to look like we're working together.” [["Maybe you’re right, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let anyone boss me around. But now, excuse me, I need to inspect our transport and get ready."->ToCar]] [["Are you crazy, though?"->CrazyMercury]]

You raise your hand. The beast leaps. The cylinder spins. BAM!!! A flash of light, ears ringing with thunder. The mago-fuel explodes, blasting you off your feet. Dazed, you lift your head. The alpha lies mangled, half its body torn away. Its bulk burns in greenish fire, but still it crawls, bubbling, rasping, dragging itself toward you with snapping jaws. Panic drives you backward on hands and heels. It claws forward another meter, then collapses at last, twitching, dead. [["Fuck… never again am I walking the woods at night…" -> Wounded]]

{(if: $Mind is true) [Ты успел среагировать, но твоё тело просто не успевает за разумом.]} {(if: $Body is true) [Тебе не хватило реакции.]} Тварь налетает на тебя, своим весом сбивая с ног. Боль волной прокатывается по телу: клыки впиваются тебе в плёчо, он мотает головой разрывая твою одежду и плоть, [[Достать чёртов револьвер -> MacheteLastStand]]} {(if: $Body is true)[[ Попытаться сбросить тварь с себя -> Push2]]} {(if: $Mind is true) [[Попытаться сбросить тварь с себя -> PushDeath]]} {(if: $Mind is true) [You saw it coming. Your body simply couldn’t keep pace with your thoughts.]}{(if: $Body is true) [You didn't react quickly enough.]} The monster barrels into you, crushing you beneath its bulk. Pain rips through you, fangs clamp your shoulder, tearing flesh with every shake. [[Grab the goddamn revolver -> MacheteLastStand]] {(if: $Body is true) [[Try to throw it off -> Push2]]}{(if: $Mind is true) [[Try to throw it off -> PushDeath]]}

{(if: $Revolver is "Full") [Firing wild, you spray a few rounds toward the mutants and bolt for the treeline. A squeal tells you you’ve clipped one of the runts.]} You crash off the road, tearing through brush, shouldering branches, plunging into the black of the forest. The alpha lunges after you, misjudges, and slams into a tree trunk with such force it nearly topples. You run flat out, blind and breathless. Branches whip your face and tear your clothes, but you don’t slow for an instant.(set: $Chance1 to (either: "1", "2")) {(if: $Chance1 is "1") [You leap a fallen log but snag your boot on a root jutting up like a snare. Somehow, you keep your balance and keep running. Fire burning in your chest, and your lungs aching from lack of air.]}{(if: $Chance1 is "2") [You leap the log but trip on a root jutting up from the earth. Face-first into rotting leaves. You try to rise, when the soil beneath your hands heaves. Living vines erupt, coiling around your limbs.]} {(if: $Chance1 is "2") [You thrash, straining to break free.]}{(if: $Revolver is "Full" and $Chance1 is "2") [ You fire into the growth, shredding tendrils, but for every one that snaps, two more sprout.]}{(if: $Revolver is "Empty" and $Chance1 is "2") [ But nothing works.]}{(if: $Chance1 is "1") [Moonlight barely filters through the canopy. The forest closes in, every step dragging deeper into the roots.]}{(if: $Chance1 is "2") [ The plant sprouts thorns, piercing your skin, digging under it like red hot knives. You’re caught in the grip of a carnivorous mutant plant.]} {(if: $Chance1 is "1") [You miss the edge of a ravine and tumble down dead leaves, landing in a shallow creek. Everything hurts. Your back’s bruised, your ankle nearly twisted. Behind you, the rasping howl carries through the dark.]}{(if: $Chance1 is "2") [[Not even bones are left for the scavengers… -> GameOver]]} {(if: $Chance1 is "1") [You drag yourself upright and force one stubborn step after another, praying the beasts lose your trail.] } {(if: $Chance1 is "1") [["That was so close… I need to patch up and make it to the city before more of them come." -> ForestEscape]]}

After an hour of fighting through the woods, you climb back out onto the road as the moon rides high. (set: $LostMachete to true) {(if: $Wounded is true) [You drop to the roadside and start rummaging through the medkit, fingers clumsy with blood. You scrub and bind what you can and, just in case, swallow the antibiotics. There are only two pills left, but two are better than none. Better that than infection, or whatever pestilence these things might carry.]} One last push to the checkpoint at the entrance to the [[city -> Suburb]].

Another fool met his fate.

“Throwing explosives at telekinetic mages, while they’re staring right at you, was not the best idea,” someone might say later. But it is a great epitaph.

A telekinetic hail of bullets and shrapnel turns your body into a bloody pulp. Learn to count your bullets.

The monstrous pressure of steel-hard air turns your body into a splatter of blood and shattered bones. Running head-on at mages armed with only with a sword is probably not the best idea.

“I’ve got light-sensitive eyes,” she says, shrugging. “Without the lenses I’m blind, with them, or in the dark — I’ll hit a coin at a hundred paces with iron sights. You? You a good shot?” {(if: $Body is true) ["Compared to you, I’d be rubbish," you answer. "I prefer seeing an enemy’s face and keeping them within striking distance."]}{(if: $Mind is true) ["I wouldn’t do the coin trick, my eyes aren’t for that. But I shoot well," you answer. "I’m a pocket-army-knife kind of guy: jack of many trades."]}{(if: $Eyes is true) ["Maybe I wouldn’t do the coin trick, but I shoot almost as well as you," you answer.]} {(if: $Eyes is true) ["Naive сowboy!" she laughs skeptically. "Maybe at tin cans, sure!"]} (set: $SniperTalked to true) [["So, you're not nervous about going to the Forbidden Lands?" -> MissionTalk]]

You dive forward, roll, letting the leaping beast sail over you, then scramble toward the writhing alpha. You see the glint of the blade lying on the ground, and your hand is almost reaching for the hilt when a huge beast turns its bloodied muzzle toward you, opening its maw. Your thoughts move faster than your body. In the next second, unable to change your trajectory and dodge in time, you lose your hand, which remains in the giant mutant's jaws. The pain shock overloads your nervous system, and the further agony is not so acute for you. [[Not even bones are left for the scavengers… -> GameOver]]

“Ha!” she punches your shoulder with practiced ease. “Please. It’s just an old hunting rifle. BGR-60, Northca. Vintage piece, they discontinued production twenty years ago.” “An old hunting rifle? For what kind of game is that thing meant?” you ask. “Oh, anything with a pulse,” she waves the question away. “We might be up against A+ class mutants. This baby will turn even such a beast to bloody dust. The trick is to hit it.” [["With your eyes you won’t miss?" -> GogglesTalk]]

The moment you step inside, the stench hits you: chemicals, liquor, smoke, and gods-know-what else. Music clashes with the roar of mercs, bandits, and bounty hunters. They drink, howl, roll dice, play cards, cheer at a gladiator fight screaming from a giant screen. The only mercy are the pale green lamps on the walls, burning steady and sparing your eyes. Across the room stretches an immense bar. Or rather, a heap of writhing flesh pretending to be one. Behind it looms the barkeep. A mountain of man-flesh, his bulk fused seamlessly into the bar as though he’d been swallowed waist-deep and left to rot there. His body balloons outward, folds upon folds of tattooed fat glistening with sweat. An apron is stretched so tight across his gut it looks ready to snap, as though holding in the world’s largest boil. Tubes descend from the ceiling into his shoulders and arms, pumping fluorescent liquids that slosh beneath his skin like trapped fireflies. His hands are the worst: the fingers hollowed into channels, pouring those glowing drinks directly into glasses, the fluids oozing like nectar from a wound. For a heartbeat, you’re sure you’re staring at some obscene god of gluttony, something that could crush you just by leaning forward. The massive head is almost ordinary, bald and human, with a gas half-mask strapped across his face. His eyes crinkle, not in menace but in something that could almost be called warmth. For all the horror of his body, the bastard radiates a bartender’s welcome, the kind you’d expect in a family roadside dive. A terrifying, grotesque doorman to Hell… who might still serve you a drink with a smile. [[Step up to the bar ->HowlingPit1]]

{(if: $Mind is true) [Your thoughts outrun their bodies. A sidestep, and the slavering jaws snap only at air. You pivot sharply and fire point-blank into its side. The beast yelps, stumbles, then collapses twitching.]}{(if: $Body is true) [You’re too fast to be caught so easily. A sidestep, and the slavering jaws snap only at air. You swing the canister in your left hand with brutal force, smashing it against the beast’s skull. Bone cracks, and the creature crumples to the ground.]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [Dashing aside, you almost made it. Its fangs clamp not on your neck, but on your forearm. Agony burns through your arm as it pins you down, claws tearing at your gut.] } {(if: $Mind is true) [Only two bullets left in the cylinder, and the alpha is already charging at you like a maddened bull.]}{(if: $Body is true) [But your focus wavers for just a second. It’s all the alpha needs. The hulking brute barrels into you at full speed, launching you through the air. You slam into asphalt, tumble, and rise just in time to face its yawning jaws rushing straight for you.]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [[Shoot -> Revolver1]]} {(if: $Mind is true) [[Shoot -> ShootDeath]]}{(if: $Body is true) [["Drink some fuel!" -> Canister]]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [[Try to throw it off -> Push]]} {(if: $Mind is true) [[Dodge -> Slide]]}{(if: $Body is true) [[Shoot -> ShootDeath]]} {(if: $Mind is true) [[Throw the canister -> CanisterDeath]]}{(if: $Body is true) [[Draw the machete -> RevolverMachete]]}

{(if: $Mind is true) [Your thoughts fly much faster than the beasts. A quick sidestep, and the fanged maw snaps shut with a sharp clack, biting only air. You spin, fire point-blank into its flank, piercing it through with two clean hits. It yelps, staggers a few steps, then crashes, legs thrashing. The last round bursts the second mutant’s head apart. The cylinder is empty. And the alpha charges at you, like a maddened bull.]}{(if: $Body is true) [You’re far too quick to be caught off guard. One quick sidestep, and the fangs snap empty air. You swing hard, smashing its skull with the canister clutched in your left hand. Bone cracks—the creature drops, with its skull split. (set: $ShotAlpha to true) But your distraction lasts a second too long. The alpha crashes into you with the force of a freight train, sending you tumbling across the asphalt. You roll, but spring to your feet. Its open maw is already racing toward you.]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [Your aim is too fast, too sharp, to let them surround you. A quick sidestep, and the fanged maw snaps shut with a sharp clack, biting only air. You pivot, fire point-blank into its flank. Its legs fold, body dropping face-first onto the asphalt. The last bullet blows the second one’s skull apart. The cylinder is empty. And the alpha charges at you, like a maddened bull.]} {(if: $Mind is true) [[Dodge -> Slide1]]}{(if: $Body is true) [["Drink some fuel!" -> Canister1]]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [[Dodge -> Slide1]]} {(if: $Mind is true) [[Draw the machete -> RelovlerMachete4]]}{(if: $Body is true) [[Shoot -> ShootDeath]]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [[Draw the machete -> RelovlerMachete4]]} {(if: $Body is true) [[Draw the machete -> RevolverMachete2]]}

You spit the words, revolver steady on the monster. It snarls… then steps back. As if it understood. A sudden lunge, toward its fallen kin. It clamps the corpse in its jaws and vanishes into the trees. You slump against the trunk, stunned that you’re still alive. [["Holy shit… I fucking live. I need to patch up and get the hell out of here, before more of them come." -> Wounded]]

You pull the trigger, and the beast leaps as if on cue. Three shots. But none of them stop the mutant. Its jaws close on your throat. [[Not even bones are left for the scavengers… -> GameOver]]

You wrench the wheel, fighting to turn the car on the cramped track. Branches lash the frame, the suspension groans, and then the ground itself begins to tremble. “Mother of fuck!” Pavel bellows. A root as thick as a man’s arm bursts up through the soil and slams into a tire. The car jolts, tips, almost flips, but the engine drags it back onto its wheels. You stomp the pedal. The trailer fishtails, nearly flipping into the ditch, but you muscle it straight and blast the machine out of the cursed clearing. [[Get out of the forest -> LostCapital4.3]]

You barely tear free from the choking grip of the mutant woods and lurch back onto the abandoned highway. Only to stop dead again: the attack shredded the front tire into ribbons. Luckily, the trunk held tools, a jack, and a spare. You’ve never changed a wheel faster in your life. Unfortunately, it doesn’t lift anyone’s spirits. Pavel least of all: he never stops barking, driving you on with curses about the “useless rookie” they were idiots to trust with choosing the road. This smart ass could have challenged your decision, but decided to speak up just now. (set: $PavelGood to it -1) Another hit like that, and this jalopy will join the rusting corpses of the other vehicles you’ve passed. Dozens of them, littering the path like tombstones. Once the car is back on four wheels, you retrace several kilometers and pick yet another road. From there it becomes a labyrinth. Again and again you’re forced onto narrow turn-offs, smaller roads that spit you onto other broken arteries. Past collapsed gas stations. Past an entire shopping mall, swallowed up to its roof by the meat-jungle. Around visible anomalies, invisible ones, and once even clambering out of the car to push it free when a wheel dropped into a ditch. The web of highways and junctions you traced felt so tangled, so maddeningly senseless, it could not possibly have been designed by a human mind. [[But at last, your wandering comes to an end. ->Capital]]

The moment you clear the checkpoint, it feels like stepping into another world. And with every step, the illusion deepens. The ruins give way to crooked tenements, grime-caked but strung with glowing neon signs. Cars rumble past, crowds hurry even at this late hour. Walls crawl with slime and flesh entwined with plants. Nobody even bats an eye. A souped-up junkyard cabriolet screeches by, the driver in Vanguard uniform swigging moonshine straight from the bottle, his three passengers headbanging to the distorted thump of a boombox. Staring, you drift onto a wide plaza around a shattered fountain. Bars, dens, and shops blaze open long into the night. The air reeks of booze and sweet-smelling smoke. [["Amazing, that even in this dying world, you can still stumble on a city alive, glowing, laughing and painted in colors." -> Lunard0]]

Suddenly, a hand hooks your elbow. “Hey, handsome! Would you buy a cute girl a cocktail?” You turn. At first glance, she’s beautiful: soft face, wide eyes, a latex outfit hugging every curve. Then you notice: her legs are feline, bending wrong, and her fingers end in padded claws. Yet… her scent washes over you, sweet and dizzying. Your head goes pleasantly heavy. “And afterward,” she purrs, “maybe I’ll buy you a little something too.” {(if: $Eyes is true)[If you had more money, you’d struggle to say no — even with your tastes.]}{(if: $Body is true)[If you had more money, you’d struggle to say no — even with your tastes.]} {(if: $Mind is true)[["Don’t bother trying to hustle me. Your pheromones won’t work on my mind." -> MindWhore]]} [["Back off." -> Lunard1]] [["Better tell me how to get to the Howling Pit." -> WhoreTalk]] {(if: $Eyes is true)[Though… you still have $money credits. Maybe you could [[have a little fun ->WhoreTime]].]}{(if: $Body is true)[Though… you still have $money credits. Maybe you could [[have a little fun ->WhoreTime]].]}

After an hour and a half of wandering around the city center and dirty alleyways, trying several times to ask for directions, you finally find the right path. [["Damn it, finally." -> PitEntrance]]

Following the directions, you surprisingly quickly find the bar you were looking for. [["Let's see what it has to offer." -> PitEntrance]]

{(if: $Eyes is true) [Ты что, совсем дурак? Ты привык стрелять, а не махать железкой. Тьма твоей меткости не помеха. С твоими обострёнными чувствами ты в ней отлично ориентируешься. А с этим тесаком ты здесь много не навоюешь.]}{(if: $Body is true) [Ты выхватываешь своё старое, но верное мачете. Рукоять будто создана для твоей ладони. Ты чувствуешь, как тело наливается знакомым напряжением перед боем.]}{(if: $Mind is true) [Пусть ты не силён в ближнем бою, но знаешь, как двигаться эффективно. Минимум затрат энергии, максимум урона.]} {(if: $Eyes is true) [[Что это на меня нашло!? Где мой верный ствол!? -> Revolver]]}{(if: $Body is true) [[Ринуться в сечу. -> MacheteAttack]]}{(if: $Mind is true) [[Бей первым, бей насмерть! -> MacheteAttack]]} {(if: $Body is true) [[Лучше сразу уйти в защиту. -> MacheteSidestep]]}{(if: $Mind is true) [[Я должен выжить, а не победить. Лучше сразу уйти в защиту. -> MacheteSidestep]]} {(if: $Eyes is true) [What the hell are you thinking? You’ve spent your life shooting, not swinging steel. Darkness isn’t a problem for your aim, your sharpened senses pierce it with ease. But with a blade? You won’t get far.]}{(if: $Body is true) [You rip free your old, trusted machete. The handle fits your palm like it was forged for you. Your body coils with familiar tension, ready for battle.] }{(if: $Mind is true) [Close combat isn’t your strengest side, but you know how to move with efficiency. Minimum effort. Maximum damage.]} {(if: $Eyes is true) [["What came over me!? Where’s my gun!?" -> Revolver]]}{(if: $Body is true) [[Charge into the melee -> MacheteAttack]]}{(if: $Mind is true) [[Strike first. Strike to kill. -> MacheteAttack]]} {(if: $Body is true) [[Better fall into defense -> MacheteSidestep]]}{(if: $Mind is true) [[You must survive, not win. Go defensive. -> MacheteSidestep]]}

You dash forward and strike first. {(if: $Body is true) [Your muscles coil, releasing in a strike that severs the nearest beast’s head clean from its shoulders.] } {(if: $Mind is true) [You aim for the throat. The machete slices deep. The mutant crumples, choking on its own blood.] } The alpha launches into a monstrous leap, descending like a landslide. You dive aside, and it smashes down beside you, the asphalt cracking under its bulk. You seize the moment, driving the machete deep into its flank. The beast howls, thrashing, desperate to shake you off. [[Hold fast -> MacheteHold]] [[Let go -> MacheteLost]]

You drop the canister, grip the machete with both hands, carving deeper into cartilage and sinew. The alpha bucks and flails, smashing the ground with its claws, then suddenly jerks its whole body upward. {(if: $Body is true) [You cling on, forcing your full weight down until the blade sinks to the hilt. Its guttural roar cuts short, the beast stumbles, and collapses on its side. You wrench the machete free from the twitching carcass. The last runt, whining, vanishes into the brush, leaving you alone on the road.]}{(if: $Mind is true) [Your grip falters and the monster hurls you to the ground. The impact blasts the air from your lungs. Vision doubles. The alpha spins, claws raking, trying to tear the lodged blade from its side. Then the last mutant leaps onto you, teeth sinking into your shoulder. Pain floods your body as it shakes its head, shredding flesh and fabric.]} {(if: $Body is true) [["Didn’t expect to win so cleanly. But I need to get out before more come." -> AlphaPeaceStreet]]}{(if: $Mind is true) [[Try to draw the revolver -> MacheteLastStand]]} {(if: $Mind is true) [[Try to throw it off -> PushDeath]]}

Pinned to the ground, you manage to reach your holster with your good hand. You jam the barrel against the beast’s side and fire. Three bullets punch clean through it, drenching you in blood. It slackens, grip lost, and collapses. You shove the body off, roll hard, and throw yourself backward, just as the alpha’s enormous jaws, having finally torn your machete from its body, snap where your head had been a second ago. [["Easy there, doggie. Let’s walk away from this. I’m nasty, stringy meat, and dangerous even one-armed. Go chew on your dead friends." -> AlphaPeace1]] [[Shoot the alpha -> ShootKill1]]

You release the blade and leap back. The alpha whirls in place, claws raking at its own flank, trying to tear out the machete lodged deep in its side. You notice the runt only at the last moment, leaping at you from the flank. {(if: $Body is true) [[Smash it with the canister -> CanisterStrike]]}{(if: $Mind is true) [[Try to dodge -> Fall]]} [[Draw the revolver -> Fall]]

Without aiming, without lifting your hand from your hip, you hammer the trigger with your palm, unleashing a rain of fire on the monster. No accuracy, no finesse, but at this range, you can’t miss. The thunder of shots empties the cylinder in seconds.(set: $Chance to (either: "1", "2")) {(if: $Chance is "1") [The alpha jerks, crouches for a killing lunge, then its forelegs buckle. It crashes down, thrashing, claws tearing at the asphalt in a futile attempt to rise. The strength drains from its body. The runt, seeing its leader fall, bolts at once into the brush.]}{(if: $Chance is "2") [The alpha jerks, howls, thrashing its head violently. You must have hit its eye. The cylinder is empty, and the runt is already leaping at you.] } {(if: $Chance is "1") [["Close call… patch up and get the hell out before more come." -> Wounded]]}{(if: $Chance is "2") [[Try to dodge and reload -> Reload]]} {(if: $Chance is "2") [[Grab the machete -> Grab]]}

You snap the revolver up and fire at the runt. The recoil jolts your arm as its head bursts like an overripe melon.(set: $Chance to (either: "1", "2")) But the alpha seizes the moment and lunges. You react instantly, but your body lags behind your mind. You try to dodge at the last second. Too slow. The jaws don’t close on your head, but on your shoulder. Fangs tear through cloth and sink deep into flesh. The taste of iron floods your tongue; the stench of its breath fills your lungs. The beast thrashes, yanking you off the ground and hurling you aside like a rag doll. You crash through the dirt, skid across gravel, then slam back-first into a tree. The world spins. Your vision doubles. Through the blur you see the monster coming, slow and certain. {(if: $Chance is "1") [The lung’s intact. Spine unbroken. You’re still breathing. ]}{(if: $Chance is "2") [You try to raise your gun, but your body won’t obey. A punctured lung drowns you in blood.]}{(if: $Chance is "1") [You raise the revolver. The beast slows, halts almost completely.]} {(if: $Chance is "2") [[Not even bones are left for the scavengers… -> GameOver]]}{(if: $Chance is "1") [["Try to eat me — you’ll choke." -> Last]]} {(if: $Chance is "1") [["I’ll drag you to hell with me!" -> LastDeath]]}

You step sideways, waiting for the moment the mutants close in. One leaps recklessly, wide open. You cut it down mid-air. {(if: $Body is true) [Your muscles coil like springs, the blow so strong the head of the beast flies free of the neck.] } {(if: $Mind is true) [You aim for the throat with surgical precision. The beast collapses, chocking on its own blood.] } One down. You surge forward, blade raised for a strike. But the second mutant’s quicker, backs off, wary after watching its brother die. The alpha seizes its chance, closing the gap in an instant. You dive sideways. Jaws snap shut inches from your face. But the swipe of its paw you can’t avoid. Claws tear through clothes and flesh. You hit the ground, rolling across the asphalt, skin shredding raw. {(if: $Body is true) [The canister bounces free, but you hold the machete tight.]}{(if: $Mind is true) [Both canister and machete clatter away.]} {(if: $Mind is true) [Instinct alone saves you: you roll, kick off, dodging the leap of the second mutant. Wounds burn. The beasts smell blood, circle you in a half-moon, driving you to the roadside. All you’ve got left — the revolver in its holster. You rip it free.]}{(if: $Body is true) [You can’t rise, vision swimming. The smaller mutant crashes onto you. Pain surges through your body, but its jaws clamp on your forearm, not your throat. It thrashes, trying to rip the arm of.]} {(if: $Mind is true) [[Run for the woods, firing as you go -> ForestDeath]]}{(if: $Body is true) [[Draw the revolver -> MacheteLastStand]]} {(if: $Mind is true) [[Shoot the alpha -> MacheteRevolver]]}{(if: $Body is true) [[Try to throw it off -> Push3]]} {(if: $Mind is true) [[Shoot the runt -> MacheteRevolver1]]} (set: $Revolver to "Full")

Her pretty face hardens, the charm draining away. She lets go of your arm. “Whatever. Not like I cared that much,” she spins on her heel, tail swishing, already walking away. “Wait! Just tell me how to get to the Howling Pit.” She turns back, deadpan. “Ten credits.” [["Go fuck yourself with those prices." -> Lunard1]] [["Five." -> Whore3]] [["First the goods. Then the cash." -> Whore4]]

“What’s there to fear?” she smiles. “The Forbidden Lands are awesome! I’ve seen a lot of shit: gang shootouts, federation purge raids. Boring stuff. This? This’ll be weird! Could be we all die. Even then: fun!” “You been there before?” you ask. “Nah,” she shakes her head. “Heard a lot. My brother went thrice. Didn’t come back after the third. Didn’t even cross the Capital’s walls.” “…Sorry to hear that.”(set: $Brother to true) “Don't worry about it,” Mercury waves it off. “He was an obsessed jerk. That's probably what got him.” Pavel’s bulk hangs over you, and your conversation trims itself. {(if: $Body is true) [He isn’t much more muscular than you, but he’s a head taller.]}{(else:) [He’s a full head taller than you, and about one-and-a-half times broader across the shoulders.]}{(if: $Mind is true) [ Despite his bulk he moves with a soldier’s economy: there’s a military cadence to every step. This is not a man of the rag-and-bone guard, he served somewhere that taught discipline.]} “How many runs into the Forbidden Lands have you done? How many contracts closed, rookie?” he asks you. “Oh! I’ve got six!” the girl chimes, bouncing. “Twenty-two confirmed kills.” The lizard turns on her with a look. “Mercury?” he growls. “Yeah?” “Shut it.” [[“Don't give me that crap. I've already been hired.” ->NotYourBusines]] [[“None. I’m a nomad. Never thought I’d work under anyone but my clan.” ->AmaNomad]]

{(if: $Revenge is true) [“Heh! We bagged a couple o’ purebloods, lined ’em up, shot ’em dead. One had Leoss military hardware bolted in, but you can’t tell one fanatic from the next. None of ’em squealed.”]}{(else:) [“What’s this, you diggin’ for gossip? Wonderin’ if the city’s been hirin’ more muscle?” the slug snickers wetly. “Beats me. But enough croaked to make the Vanguard check every bastard that comes knockin’.”]} He slaps the desk. “But enough jawin’. This ain’t no market stall. Show the Eye your clan ink and gimme your arm for a blood draw.” {(if: $Mind is true) [Something doesn’t add up, you note. They’re not just hunting for the infected, or the purebloods. There must be another reason for this whole charade.]} [["Wait, one more question. If there was a plague but no epidemic, does that mean you found a cure?" -> Cure]] [["Fine. Let’s get this over with. I’m of the Ash Serpents. Here’s the tattoo." -> Slug]]

“Dirty peasant,” one merc behind you mutters with a snicker. You swallow the insult, and the slug can’t resist answering: “Bloody hell, pal, couldn't you guess from the title? That’s the mutation rating system. You’re category "C". Means you got some internal and barely visible external changes. {(if: $Eyes is true)[Without those eyes of yours you’d be a "D", means almost unchanged,]}{(if: $Body is true)[You got one hell of a muscular mutation. You could ask a flesh-bender to graft a pair of bone blades or a chitin exosuit. Vanguard’d love a fighter built like that,]}{(if: $Mind is true)[But with that wired nervous system of yours you could slip into "D" or even "B". I ain’t seen nothin’ like it before,]}” the slug says, scratching the place where a human would call a chin. “Right, enough stalling. What you wanna do in Lunard?” [["I want to sign on as a mercenary." -> SlugPong]] {(if: $Revenge is true) [["I’m looking for someone. Heard that person might be in Lunard." -> SlugPong]]}{(if: $Life is true) [["I heard Lunard’s the city of opportunities. I want to see what fate has in strore here for me." -> SlugPong]]}

“Jack,” you say at last. “Jack of the Ashen Serpents.” (set: $Name to "Jack") “Well then… $Name,” the fox shuffles his cards with liquid grace, laying them in a line before you. “Be so kind. Draw three.” [["What for?" -> VincentWhy]] [[Do as he asks ->CardsPull]]

The fox exhales, a weary sigh, as if he’s endured this dance too many times before. “How droll. In that case, I’ll just call you ‘douche’. Easier to remember. And it suits you better.” [["Alright, my real name is..." -> Name]]

{(if: $Eyes is true)[“Two shots, ten shots, it makes no difference. Jack you’ll be.” The recruiter inclines his head.] (set: $Name to "Jack")}{(if: $Body is true)[“Max Power?” Vincent repeats, amused. “Only men aware of their weakness can really become 'powerful'. You’re still just a sapling.”] (set: $Name to "Max")}{(if: $Mind is true)[“Blitz?” he says with a thin smile. “Then lightning-fast you’ll rush into the grave. No shame in that. In our world, it's not hard to start envying the dead.”] (set: $Name to "Blitz")} He takes another drag, smoke curling like ribbons through the dim light. “Well then… $Name," the fox shuffles his cards with liquid grace, laying them in a line before you. “Be so kind. Draw three.” [["What for?" -> VincentWhy]] [[Draw ->CardsPull]]

By day, the Howling Pit feels different, much quieter. Though it still retains the charm of a gangster-infested dive. Big D still squats behind his bar, half-asleep, absently polishing glasses on instinct. At a table in the corner, a handful of mercs with matching patches whisper their business{(if: $Mind is true)[, their twitchy faces give them away: rookies, plotting something dumb]}. At the center, five bounty hunters crowd around a table, playing some bastardized game that mixes dice with a revolver loaded with a single round.{(if: $Mind is true)[With one look, you catch two of them signaling each other, cheating with meaningless gestures and hollow smiles.]}. And in the far corner, you spot him: the recruiter. Vincent. A fox-mutant, tall and lean, dressed in a sharp black suit that doesn’t belong in this pit. His mechanical fingers shuffle a deck of antique, hand-painted cards, every picture strange and ominous. Between his teeth smolders a pipe, and his lifeless prosthetic eyes stare into nothing. A porcelain cup of coffee waits at his elbow, delicate and absurd in this place. He’s strange. And unsettling. {(if: $Mind is true)[Stuffed with expensive implants, yet sitting in a dive like this at an hour when no sane man would be here.]} [[Approach the recruiter -> Vincent]]

{(if: $Energy is true)[That drink was a fucking mistake. Not because you lay awake half the night, but because of what happened when you finally passed out. You remember it like it wasn’t a dream at all: eyes blooming across the walls and ceiling, staring into you, endless and unblinking. You flailed, shouting, but they flickered in and out of existence. Then all went blank. Suddenly you’re on the windowsill, revolver pointed back into your own room. Another skip, and you’re in a back alley, staring at a dead stray cat, its body full of holes. The smoking revolver in your hand. You don’t know how you got back. You don’t even know if it really happened. By noon, you wake and check your revolver. Cylinder is empty. “Fuck those cocktails… I’d rather drink non-alcoholic piss for the rest of my life than ride that trip again.”]}{(else:)[After yesterday’s storm, you passed out in seconds and slept straight through till noon. Even the dreams of staring at you from the walls couldn't wear you down.]} You dress, finish the last ration bar, and steel yourself for what comes next. [[Head down to the bar -> NextDay]]

You crash on the bed and pass out fast, but your rest is shattered by a sudden itch. Side effects of that “healing” cocktail hit hard: the scars on your wounds burn and crawl, and your nails scratch at them even while you sleep. By noon, you wake in a mess of torn skin and bloody spots on the sheets, yet the wounds have closed again. Still, you feel surprisingly fresh. You pull on your clothes, chew down the last of your ration bar, and brace for the day ahead. [[Head down to the bar -> NextDay]]

After yesterday’s madness, you blacked out almost instantly and slept until noon. Despite strange dreams of walls and ceilings covered in unblinking eyes, you wake rested, ready for what comes next.{(if: $Body is true and $Wounded is true)[ Oddly enough, your wounds are almost gone, now just faint, soft scars. Like a week of healing passed overnight. Whatever’s changed in your body, it’s stronger than you thought.(set: $Wounded to false)]}{(else:)[ The only thing that bothers you are the nagging wounds left by the mutants' fangs and claws. Life can't ever be perfect.]} You dress and eat the last of your ration bar. [[Head down to the bar -> NextDay]]

You turn your back and walk off, leaving the furious bitch spitting curses and threats at your back. Was it the smart choice? [["Off to this Howling Pit." -> Lunard2]]

(set: $money to it - 10)You silently press the crumpled notes into her palm and follow her directions, keeping your eyes off the neon-smeared streets and more on the suspicious figures drifting in the shadows. [["Off to this Howling Pit." -> Lunard2]]

(set: $money to it - 5)You silently press the crumpled notes into her palm and follow her directions, keeping your eyes off the neon-smeared streets and more on the suspicious figures drifting in the shadows. [["Off to this Howling Pit." -> Lunard2]]

You enter a narrow alleyway, lighten with a massive sickly green sign, that reads: "Howling Pit". The building looms like a pile of rusted wreckage, or the gutted carcass of a warship flipped upside-down. Metal beams and rebar jut out, half-swallowed by quivering flesh. Sickly green light leaks from grime-fogged windows, and the thrum of music spills into the street. A few Black Vanguard mercs idle at the entrance, smoking or maybe guarding. Hard to tell. You step closer just as the doors slam open. A leather-clad punk stumbles out and falls onto the asphalt with a knife buried in his shoulder. He jumps up, rips it free, snarls, and bolts straight back inside. A few seconds later, several loud shots ring out, and the unfortunate thug, with a couple of holes in his chest, is carried out of the saloon and thrown into a nearby dumpster. The mercs don’t even flinch. [["Charming joint." -> HowlingPit]]

{(if: $Eyes is true) [You smash the butt of the revolver into the mutant’s eye, kick at its ribs, but no matter the blows it keeps chewing into you. Then a shadow falls across you, and the alpha’s gaping maw closes around your skull.]} {(if: $Mind is true) [You slam the revolver’s butt into the mutant’s eye, thrash with your legs, but it doesn’t let go. A shadow falls across you, and the alpha’s jaws lock shut around your head.]} {(if: $Body is true) [You drive the revolver’s butt into its eye with crushing force. Bone crunches - you’ve split its skull wide with brute strength. Yet even in death the beast’s jaws won’t release your arm. Then the shadow falls, and the alpha’s monstrous mouth clamps down on your head.]} [[Not even bones are left for the scavengers… -> GameOver]]

Flat on the ground, you pull your legs up and kick with all your might into the beast’s belly. The blow is so strong it sends the mutant flying, ripping a chunk of flesh out of your arm as it goes. No time to cry. You roll, wrench the revolver free with your good hand, and leap back. The alpha’s massive jaws snap where your head was, the machete finally torn loose from its body. It crouches, ready to spring again. [[The canister’s right beneath its paws. One chance! -> Explosion]] [["Eat lead!" -> ShootDeath]]

Flat on the ground, you drive the machete into the beast pinning you. It whines but refuses to release its jaws. You curl your legs, kick hard into its belly. The blow so powerful it sends the creature flying, tearing away a chunk of your flesh with it. No time. You roll, snatch the revolver with your good hand, and throw yourself back. The alpha’s massive jaws snap shut where your head was a second ago. It snarls and launches into a leap. [[The canister lies right beneath its paws. One chance only! -> Explosion]] [["Eat lead!" -> ShootDeath]]

You drive your fist into its snout, kick with all you’ve got, but the jaws hold fast. And then the shadow falls. The alpha’s massive maw snaps shut around your skull. [[Not even bones are left for the scavengers… -> GameOver]]

You may lack strength or speed, but your thoughts outpace any beast. One sidestep, and the fangs snap shut on empty air. Your hand is already pulling a spare cylinder from your pocket. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the alpha, its fit of thrashing ended, locking eyes on you again. The revolver is reloaded. The runt lunges for your leg—you kick it square in the snout, send it sprawling, and open fire on the charging giant. Bang! Bang! Bang!!! The alpha collapses face-first, its weight slamming you to the asphalt. The runt sees its leader fall and yelps, fleeing into the trees. You drag yourself out from under the massive corpse, bloodied, exhausted. But you still find the strength to plant a boot in its snarling face. [["Fucking mutants…" -> Wounded]]

You begin edging backward. Ignoring the pain, forcing your wounded arm to move, you fumble a spare cylinder from your pocket. The empty one clatters away. You’re almost sliding the fresh one in when the giant beast explodes into motion, crashing down on you. A second too slow. Or maybe it was waiting for this very moment, watching for you to be unarmed? What does it matter now? [[Not even bones are left for the scavengers… -> GameOver]]

You begin edging backward, fumbling a spare cylinder from your pocket. The empty one clatters away. You’re almost sliding the fresh one in when the giant beast explodes into motion, crashing down on you. A second too slow. Or maybe it was waiting for this very moment, watching for you to be unarmed? What does it matter now? [[Not even bones are left for the scavengers… -> GameOver]]

You exhale. Toss the revolver and the cursed canister aside. In one fluid motion, the machete is in your hand. At the last moment, you step slightly to the side of the enormous beast. Its claws graze your shoulder, and you use the momentum to strike forward with your entire body. The machete bites deep, under the jaw, tearing cartilage and artery. The best hurls you down, the beast tossing you aside like a rag. It wheels, preparing to finish the job. Its legs coil for the jump... Then collapse beneath it and the mighty mutant crashes to the asphalt. It thrashes, claws gouging, growling in fury. Then it weakens… and stills. You crawl back, lungs tearing. Jacket in shreds, drenched in stinking black blood. But alive. [["Holy shit, that was close… I have to patch up and get the fuck out before more come." -> Wounded]]

You pull the revolver from its holster in an instant. Aim. [[The smaller mutant -> RevolverMinion]], or [[the alpha -> RevolverAlpha]]? (set: $ChoseRevolver to true)

Pinned to the ground by its bulk, you jam the revolver into its side and fire until the thing stops shrieking, slumping lifelessly. You shove it away, roll away, just as the alpha’s jaws snap shut where your skull had been. Now it’s just you and the monster. Its huge eyes glimmer with hunger. Drool threads from its mouth. Yet behind the fire in its gaze lingers something disturbingly close to reason. Only one bullet remains in the chamber, and your left arm doesn't bend at the elbow like it used to. [["Easy there, mutt. Let’s call it even. I’m nasty, stringy meat, and dangerous even one-armed. Feast on your dead mates instead." -> AlphaPeace]] [[The canister lies at its feet. Shoot at it. -> Explosion]] [[Reload -> ReloadDeath]] [[There is no chance. Run. -> ForestDeath]] {(if: $Body is true) [[To hell with guns. Time for blades. -> RevolverMachete]]}

Pinned beneath it, you jam the revolver into its ribs. Two shots left. You fire until it goes slack. Heave its carcass aside and roll clear. The alpha’s jaws snap shut where your head was an instant ago. Now it’s just the two of you. One-on-one. Its huge eyes glimmer with hunger. Drool threads from its mouth. Yet behind the fire in its gaze lingers something disturbingly close to reason. Your revolver is empty. Your left arm dangles useless, bent wrong at the elbow. [[Reload -> ReloadDeath]] (set: $Revolver to "Empty") [[Run -> ForestDeath]] [["Easy there, mutt. Let’s call it even. I’m nasty, stringy meat, and dangerous even one-armed. Feast on your dead mates instead." -> AlphaPeace]]

Pinned beneath it, you jam the revolver into its ribs. Two shots left. You fire until it goes slack. Heave its carcass aside and roll clear. The alpha’s jaws snap shut where your head was an instant ago. A wounded beast crouches a few meters away, preparing to lunge. The alpha watches you intently, drool threads from its mouth. Yet behind the fire in its gaze lingers something disturbingly close to reason. Your revolver is empty. Your left arm bends no more at the elbow. [[Easy now, mutts. Let’s call it even. I’m tough, stringy meat, and dangerous even one-armed. Feast on your dead friend there instead. -> AlphaDeath]] (set: $Revolver to "Empty") [[Reload -> ReloadDeath]] (set: $Wounded to true) [[Run -> ForestDeath]] {(if: $Body is true) [["To hell with the gun. Time for blades." -> RevolverMachete2]]}

You take aim at the pack leader. {(if: $Mind is true) [You’re focused. Collected. The tremor in your hand is barely noticeable. First shot — into its chest. It flinches, nothing more. Second — shoulder. Third—straight into the skull. A clean hit. The alpha doesn’t even scream. Just halts for a heartbeat, shakes its massive head like an ox ridding itself of flies.]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [You aim and fire, quickly and, precise. First shot — rips a tentacle clean off. Second — scrapes its neck. Third — sinks under the eye. The alpha howls, staggers back, shaking its head in fury.]}{(if: $Body is true) [Your hand shakes. Recoil jerks the revolver skyward with every pull. The bullets barely scratch its armored hide. The beast roars, charging. You’ve only made it angrier.]} Three rounds left in the cylinder. And the pack is coming. Small, wiry shapes pounding toward you. One leaps — fangs for your throat. Another circles behind. [[Dodge -> JumpAlpha]] [[Shoot -> ShootMinion]]

You exhale, tossing aside the revolver and the damned canister, and in the same motion grab the machete free from your belt. {(if: $Body is true) [The beast charges headlong, but you stand firm, gripping the hilt tight. At the last moment you slip slightly aside, shoulder braced, and throw your whole weight into the strike. The machete bites deep into the side of its neck, just beneath the jaw. Cartilage, flesh and bones, all severed in one brutal crunch. It bowls you over, but you’re already atop it, elbow crushing its throat as you drive the blade down again and again with blind rage. The mutant thrashes, claws ripping, growls choking, until it falls still. You crawl off, chest heaving, your jacket shredded, soaked in black stinking gore… but alive.]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [The beast charges headlong. You grip the hilt tighter and try to sidestep at the last second, but its paw slams you down. The machete flies from your hand, and the monster crashes on top of you.] } {(if: $Body is true) [[Well, that was a workout. -> Wounded]]} {(if: $Eyes is true) [[Not even bones are left for the scavengers… -> GameOver]]}

You exhale. Toss the revolver and the cursed canister aside. In one fluid motion, the machete is in your hand. The beast charges, roaring. You don’t flinch, grip tight and wait. At the last moment you slip slightly aside, shoulder braced, and throw your whole weight into the strike. The machete bites deep into the side of its neck, just beneath the jaw. Cartilage, flesh and bones, all severed in one brutal crunch. It bowls you over, but you’re already atop it, elbow crushing its throat as you drive the blade down again and again with blind rage. The mutant thrashes, claws ripping, growls choking, until it falls still. You crawl off, chest heaving, your jacket shredded, soaked in black stinking gore… but alive. [[Close call… patch up and get the fuck out before more come. -> Wounded]]

You exhale. Toss the revolver and the cursed canister aside. In one fluid motion, the machete is in your hand. The alpha charges with a roar. The smaller mutant crouches to leap. You don’t back down. Grip tight. Steady. They miscalculated. You spring toward the alpha, ducking low, and the runt overshoots, missing you entirely. Then you strike with all your weight, blade slicing across the giant’s neck. The machete bites deep, under the jaw, tearing cartilage and artery. The best hurls you down, the beast tossing you aside like a rag. It wheels, preparing to finish the job. Its legs coil for the jump... Then collapse beneath it and the mighty mutant crashes to the asphalt. The runt, seeing its master fall, flees shrieking into the trees. The alpha thrashes, claws gouging, growling in fury. Then it weakens… and stills. You crawl back, lungs tearing. Jacket in shreds, drenched in stinking black blood. But alive. [[Close call… patch up and get the fuck out before more come. -> Wounded]]

{(if: $Eyes is true) [You raise the revolver in a practiced motion and squeeze the trigger. The recoil slams your palm, and one wolfspawn’s head bursts apart like a rotten melon.]}{(else:) [Stress rattles your grip, your hand trembles. The bullet punches into the beast’s shoulder. It shrieks and stumbles back, but it’s still in the fight.] } The second mutant lunges at you from the side. [[Dodge -> Jump]] [[Shoot it -> Shoot]]

(set: $money to it - 20)You slap the cash down. From the bar’s fleshy bulk slithers a gut-like tentacle, hacking up a slimy key with a plastic tag into your palm. “Sweet dreams, baby boy,” Big D rumbles, shaking with laughter. “Toilet and shower’s down the hall. Don’t drop the soap.” You head for the stairs tucked in the corner, dragging yourself up to the second floor. The room’s barely wider than the bed jammed against one wall, with a battered wardrobe across from it. No space to swing your arms, but at least there’s a window. Looking out at an ugly neighboring ruin. “Luxury,” you mutter. “Not a coffin capsule, and no flesh creeping on the walls. Beautiful.” {(if: $Healed is true) [[Take a shower and sleep -> NightHealed]]}{(if: $Wounded is true) [[Take a shower and sleep -> NightWounded]]}{(if: $Wounded is false) [[Take a shower and sleep -> Night]]}

It doesn’t smell of curses here. It’s as calm as… a tomb. Well, it is a tomb, but one stripped of the gloom of abandoned graveyards and forgotten catacombs. What it does smell of is betrayal. You slide the chalk line clean with the edge of your boot, almost imperceptibly. Just a little — enough that the mage won’t notice. Here, a touch there, and a hair’s breadth here. (set: $Ruin to true) [[Now wait -> End]]

{(if: $Eyes is true) [You switch targets in a heartbeat, and the charging beast closes its maw on nothing but a bullet. It crashes dead at your feet. But your focus wavers for just a second. It’s all the alpha needs. The hulking brute barrels into you at full speed, launching you through the air. You slam into asphalt, tumble, and rise just in time to face its yawning jaws rushing straight for you.]}{(if: $Body is true) [You’re faster than these freaks, and you swing your aim instantly. Accuracy, though, betrays you. The shot rips through its foreleg, and the mutant collapses onto you. Mercifully, its fangs close not on your throat but on your forearm. Pain sears your arm as it pins you to the ground, claws raking at your belly.]}{(if: $Mind is true) [You pivot instantly, and the lunging beast bites nothing but a bullet before collapsing. You see it, but are too slow to react. hulking brute barrels into you at full speed, launching you through the air. You slam into asphalt, tumble, and rise just in time to face its yawning jaws rushing straight for you.]} {(if: $Eyes is true) [["Drink some fuel!" -> CanisterDeath]]} {(if: $Body is true) [[Try to throw the beast off -> Push]]}{(if: $Mind is true) [["Drink some fuel!" -> CanisterDeath]]} {(if: $Eyes is true) [[Shoot -> ShootKill]]}{(if: $Body is true) [[Shoot -> Revolver1]]}{(if: $Mind is true) [[Empty the whole cylinder into the huge bastard -> ShootDeath]]} {(if: $Eyes is true) [[Draw the machete -> RevolverMachete]]}{(if: $Mind is true) [[Evade -> Slide]]} {(if: $Eyes is true) [[Evade -> Slide]]}

You fire straight into its gaping maw, but it doesn’t stop! Its jaws slam shut around your neck, the sheer weight of its body crushing you to the ground. [[Not even bones are left for the scavengers… -> GameOver]]

The glow of its eyes in the dusk makes the perfect target. You steady your breath, squeeze the trigger... BAM!!! The shot burrows into its brain. The alpha collapses face-first on the asphalt, its mass nearly crushing you under it. The last runt whines, then vanishes into the thickets, leaving you alone on the road. [[Holy shit… I actually survived… -> AlphaPeaceStreet]]

The hulking mutant, as if sensing your intentions, lunges forward before you can raise your gun. Your thoughts thunder like stampeding horses, the world narrowing to nothing but the fire in its eyes. Bam! Bam! Bam!!! The alpha crashes face-first onto the asphalt, its body slamming you flat. One round took its eye clean out. Bloodied, exhausted, you crawl out from under the mountainous corpse. And yet, you still find the strength to kick the monster square in the snout. [["I’m alive, goddammit! I’ve survived the plague, bandits, and half a continent’s worth of roads! And I’ve outlive you too, freaks!" -> Wounded]]

You struggle to crawl out from under the carcass that has pinned you down. The barrel of your revolver is still smoking: you fired all six bullets into the huge mutant and, it seems, only managed to kill it by a sheer miracle. There is a huge gash on your chest from its claws, and one of the creature's fangs is stuck in your shoulder. [["Shitty mutants!" -> Wounded]]

{(if: $Mind is true) [You pivot instantly. The leaping mutant bites down only on a bullet and collapses beside you in a twitching heap. But a second’s distraction is all the other one needs. You throw yourself sideways. Almost enough. Its jaws don’t close on your throat, but on your forearm instead. Pain piercing through your arm, the beast slams you down with its weight, with claws raking for your guts.]}{(if: $Eyes is true)[You pivot instantly. The leaping mutant bites down only on a bullet and collapses beside you in a twitching heap. You were distracted for just a second, and the second mutant tried to take advantage of that. But he failed and fell after two shots. The pack leader finally stopped shaking his head and stared at you again with his one vicious eye. Your revolver? Empty.}{(if: $Body is true) [You’re too fast. The sight snaps to target in an instant. Accuracy, though — that’s a different matter. The shot shatters its foreleg. It crashes down, on top of you. Its fangs clamp not on your neck, but on your forearm. Agony burns through your arm as it pins you down, claws tearing at your gut.]} {(if: $Mind is true) [[Try to throw it off -> Push]]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [[Reload -> ReloadDeath1]]}{(if: $Body is true) [[Try to throw it off -> Push]]} {(if: $Mind is true) [[Shoot -> Revolver2]]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [[Draw the machete -> RevolverMachete1]]}{(if: $Body is true) [[Shoot! -> Revolver3]]} {(if: $Eyes is true) [[Easy, mutt. Let’s call it even. I’m nasty, stringy meat. Feast on your dead mates instead. -> AlphaPeace]]}

You reach for your pistol, fingers heavy as lead. The air itself feels thick as tar, every movement a struggle. Somehow, you wrench the weapon free and fire. The round, trailing a streak of blue light, veers wide. A heartbeat later, an invisible ram slams into you and hurls you rolling across the floor. Your back smashes against a collapsed column, and the world blinks out. [["Fuck…" ->WorstEnd]]

“I’m a decent mechanic: grew up with machines, spent half my life fixing them. Know a little medicine too: field dressing, first aid,” you pat the holster at your side. “And combat? At the city entrance they called me a category ‘C’ mutant. I’m a solid shot. {(if: $Eyes is true)[More than solid. With my sharpened senses, most mercs don’t stand a chance.]}{(if: $Body is true)[But I prefer to fight up close. With my strength, speed, and regeneration, no ordinary mercenary or mutant can match me.]}{(if: $Body is true and $LostMachete is true)[ Though… I lost my blade on the way into the city.]}{(if: $Mind is true)[And in close quarters, I can still hold my own. My mutations make me think, move, and process faster than most humans. You could call it a kind of superhuman intuition.]}” Vincent exhales a slow plume of smoke, iron jaw clicking faintly. “Such confidence,” he muses, voice like dry paper. “Especially for a guppy not yet twenty. {(if: $Revenge is true)[Especially for someone like you, who stalks and scours, looking for he doesn't know what.]}{(if: $Revenge is true and $Vincent is false)[ Hoping to commit a deed that won’t wash clean.]} Still, nomads usually are competent. Machines, contraband, hauling goods… it runs in your blood.” [["You’re wrong." ->Vincent3]]

“For twenty creds, you can crash upstairs. Don’t sweat safety: this bar’s Vanguard turf. Anyone touches you here, they deal with me and mine.” You remember the punk in the leather jacket, dragged out and tossed in a dumpster. The thought doesn’t exactly calm your nerves. But it’s late, you’re beat, and you’ve got no better options. [["Alright. Twenty it is." -> Room]]

You dive aside, sliding across the asphalt. The massive jaws snap shut an inch from your head with a bone-shaking clack. You roll, rise to one knee, finger already on the trigger. The first shot rips a tentacle from its face. The second buries itself in its eye. The creature howls, not a beast’s cry but something almost human. It thrashes, clawing the road in frenzy. You retreat quickly as it shakes its head, as though trying to fling the pain away. The revolver is empty. The trigger clicks hollow. It lifts its gaze. In its one remaining eye burns pain, fury… and fear. Its snout twitches. [[Threaten with the gun -> Threat]] [[Run -> ForestDeath]]

You dive sideways, skidding across the asphalt, tearing fabric and skin. The massive jaws slam shut a hair’s breadth from your head, the very air trembles with the force of it. You roll, come up on one knee. Fingers grab the spare cylinder in your pocket. In a heartbeat, the revolver is reloaded. The giant beast wheels around and leaps. [[Fire!!! -> ShootKillAlpha]]

You tug at the collar of your {(if: $Wounded is true)[blood–stained]}{(else:) [tattered]} shirt, revealing the tattoo of a serpent, coiled around a gray spider–lily. The Eye inspects it from every angle, as though taking mental photographs. {(if: $Wounded is true) [“Where’d you get carved up like that, nomad?” the mutant asks, gawking at your bandaged wounds. “Mutants on the road in,” you answer reluctantly. “I didn’t hear no engine when you came through. You walked here?” the slug croaks, sounding almost surprised.]}{(else:) [“I didn’t hear no engine when you came through. You walked here?” the slug croaks, sounding almost surprised.]} “Yes.” And of course your [[ride ->MyCar]] had to die just one day’s march from the city. “Well I’ll be… Wanderin’ the wastes at night?” the slug mutters. “You gotta be outta your fuckin’ mind… Though I’ll admit, a lucky son of a bitch if you still made it in alive.” [[“And you, soft-belly, ever been outside the city walls?” -> Slug2]] [[“Wait till your car craps out fifty klicks from town on an open road. I’ll see how smart you look then.” -> Slug2]] [[Say nothing. Offer your arm to the Eye. -> Slug3]]

“Listen here, stray,” the slug croaks, voice sour with annoyance, and he fishes a rubber glove from his pocket. “You keep yappin’, I pull this on my mitt, then that mitt goes right up your ass. Elbow–deep. ’Cause who knows what kinda contraband you wastelanders may try to smuggle in.” [["At least explain why the circus? Scans? Blood?" -> SlugQuestion]] [["Fine, slimeball. Let’s just end this. I’m of the Ash Serpents clan. Here’s the tattoo". -> Slug]]

“A what am I gonna do outside the city, huh? Hunt mushrooms in the woods, pick scrap off ruins?” the slug answers, not the least offended. “We get fed fine here. Hand over your arm to the Eye.” [[Continue -> Slug3]]

A slimy, repulsive tentacle writhes forward; from beneath the Eye, with a wet slither, a narrow bony blade slides out and rakes across your forearm. {(if: $Mind is true)[With your reaction speed you would’ve ducked it easily—but you don’t bother. ]}The pain is almost imperceptible. “So... Your mutation is category C,” the slug pronounces. “No viruses or parasites spotted in your blood.{(if: $Body is true)[ You’re as healthy as a bull.]}” “Glad to hear it,” you say, the relief small but real. “We’ve got no claims on your clan, no debts to Vanguard. But a couple questions before we let you through, nomad,” the mutant emits a sound halfway between a cough and a fart. “Purpose of your visit?”{(if: $Mind is true)[ Something tells you the Eye isn’t just a scanner, it’s probably working as a lie detector, too.]} [["Wait, what does category “C” mean?" -> MutationRank]] [["I want to sign on as a mercenary." -> SlugPong]] {(if: $Revenge is true) [["I’m looking for someone. Heard that person might be in Lunard." -> SlugPong]]}{(if: $Life is true) [["I heard Lunard’s the city of opportunities. I want to see what fate has in strore here for me." -> SlugPong]]}

{(if: $Revenge is true) [“To kill him?” the mutant asks offhand. “I don’t think he’s tied to Vanguard, so you needn’t worry.” “Fine, then no problem,” the slug nods.]}{(else:) [“Any ties beyond your clan?”]} [["No." -> SlugPong1]]

“Magic skills?” [["None." -> SlugPong2]]

“Weapons? Drugs? Contraband?” (live: 3s)[(go-to: "SlugPong3")]

“What’d you think, all this came for free?” the slug jeers. “You wanna step into the city — you pay the toll.” Grumbling under your breath, you count out the bills and slap them onto the desk.(set: $money to it - 40) “Welcome to Lunard,” the mutant says with fake warmth, and the Vanguard troopers escort you outside. In your bag you’ve got only $money credits left. Just enough for a couple nights and breakfasts in some flea-ridden motel. {(if: $Wounded is true)[And yeah, it wouldn’t hurt to swing by a healer, or at least buy some medicine.]}{(if: $ChoseRevolver is true)[ You’ll need more ammo for the revolver, too.]} {(if: $ChoseRevolver is true)[ And you lost your machete out there in the forest.]} “So, the slug told me to hit the Howling Pit?” you mutter. “Fine. I don’t know this city, and I’m out of options. Gotta make some quick cash, or I’ll be gnawing on my own boots before long.” [[Forward -> Lunard]]

Grumbling under your breath, you count out the bills and slap them onto the desk.(set: $money to it - 40) “Welcome to Lunard,” the mutant says with fake warmth, and the Vanguard troopers escort you outside. In your bag you’ve got only $money credits left. Just enough for a couple nights and breakfasts in some flea-ridden motel. {(if: $Wounded is true)[And yeah, it wouldn’t hurt to swing by a healer, or at least buy some medicine.]}{(if: $ChoseRevolver is true)[ You’ll need more ammo for the revolver, too.]} {(if: $ChoseRevolver is true)[ And you lost your machete out there in the forest.]} “So, the slug told me to hit the Howling Pit?” you mutter. “Fine. I don’t know this city, and I’m out of options. Gotta make some quick cash, or I’ll be gnawing on my own boots before long.” [[Forward -> Lunard]]

“Listen, nomad, I don’t make the rules, I just enforce them.” “But you know why they exist?” you press. The slug makes a sound like a clogged drain gasping. Maybe a sigh. Then it answers: “Half a year back we had a little… incident. Some sorta bug, probably cooked up by them damn [[pureblood fanatics ->Mutations]], meant to wipe us, honest bio-modified workers, out. Piles of bodies, yeah? Folks rotted right where they stood. Had to, y’know, ‘disinfect’ an entire district to choke it dead.” “No shit,” you mutter, widening your eyes in mock surprise. “And what makes you think it was a gift from the purebloods?” The slug snorts, a series of wet snuffles that pass for laughter. “Listen, purebloods carry that stuff easier. Don’t die from it, see? So we gotta check everyone coming into the city. Can’t have some zealot strollin’ in with another plague in his pocket.” [[That disease. -> SlugQuestion1]]

Your clan, the Ash Serpents, didn’t fall to raiders, Federation purge squads or to monsters. It was the disease: the nameless plague the slug mentioned, brought by a man your clan named as the Dark Wanderer. What the slug said is true: a heavily altered sapient stands little chance against that sickness. Even those with few mutations had poor odds. You learned that on your own skin. The worst wasn’t the fever or the agony. It was the ulcers. Fetid sores eating at mucous membranes in every throat and eye and gut. Teeth and nails fell out. Eyes filled with pus. Some had to be fed through tubes because their throats were ruined by boils and rot. And to see your kin rotting away before your eyes, falling apart piece by piece. But even when you yourself fell into a feverish, unrestful sleep, their moans and groans continued to haunt you in nightmares and rare moments of consciousness. Goosebumps crawl up your arms, and you wrench yourself back from the memory. {(if: $Revenge is true) [This plague might have been carried here by the Dark Wanderer, before your clan ever met him. The timing fits. If so, he’s the trail you need to follow.]}{(if: $Legend is true) [That scourge could have thinned the ranks of local fighters, adventurers and mercs. Less competition — more room for you.]}{(if: $Life is true) [You're not afraid of getting infected again. You have no one left to lose anyway.]} But wait, isn't there still some of that infection left in your blood? Even if you've developed immunity, if it turns out that you're a carrier of this disease, you won't leave this checkpoint alive. And there's no way to bribe your way through: two soldiers at the door are watching your every move, their hands on their rifles.(set: $Wanderer to true) [["So there’s no epidemic in the city? Have you found a cure?" -> Cure]] {(if: $Revenge is true) [["I assume the fanatic who brought the plague was caught." -> MoreInfo]]}{(else:) [["A lot of people died?" -> MoreInfo]]} [["Alright, let’s get this over with. I’m of the Ash Serpents. Here’s the tattoo." -> Slug]]

The outskirts are a labyrinth of ruins: half-collapsed factory shells lit by sickly moonlight. Streetlamps are mostly shattered; something rustles or whispers from every broken window and dark alley. Rusted cars and half-stripped hulks line the roadside. Piles of weed-grown trash and graffiti-scarred walls choke the blocks. By an overturned dumpster on the corner of a standing building lies a fresh-looking body of a mutated man, his ribcage torn open. A strange noise pulls your eyes, and around the bend you see a figure. {(if: $Eyes is true) [A tramp in filthy rags pushes a supermarket trolley. Two bodies are laid neatly inside it. The cannibal regards you with yellow eyes, grins widely and waves a friendly hand, until he spots the revolver at your hip. He quickly turns around and rolls his "dead cargo" in another direction.] }{(else:)[A thin, shadowed human figure pushes a shopping cart. He gives you a look, as if to wave, then turns and moves off in another direction.]} “Fucking madhouse,” you mutter, and [[pick up your pace -> Checkpoint]]. “Compared to this, the mutant woods look like a country resort.”

You slowly raise the gun, as if it were still loaded. The creature growls… then takes a step back. Suddenly, it lunges toward its fallen kin, seizes the corpse in its jaws, and vanishes into the trees. You stand there, hardly believing you’re still alive. [[Holy fuck… it actually worked? -> AlphaPeaceStreet]]

“I ain’t Vanguard’s mouthpiece, and I sure as hell ain’t their recruiter,” Big D growls. “What you gotta know is this: they pay fat, and they pay loyal. Long as you do your job and don’t fuck around.” “Every merc in town would tell me the same thing,” you argue. “Exactly. ‘Cause everything past that—” Big D lifts a sausage-thick finger like he’s delivering gospel. “—is fucking around. You catchin’ my drift?” [["Fine. But tell me more about Vincent. You mentioned cards. Is he a gambler?" -> WhoIsVincent]] [["Alright, I’ll find this recruiter tomorrow. Can I get a room here?" -> Sleep]]

“Greetings. You must be Vincent. D said you’re the man to see if I’m looking for work. Mind if I sit?” you ask, stepping up to the fox’s table. He pulls his gaze out of the void and fixes you with a bored look. Thin streams of fragrant smoke drift from his nostrils. {(if: $Eyes is true)[Not just tobacco: your keen nose picks up the bitter trace of chemicals, herbs, maybe even an anesthetic.]}{(if: $Mind is true)[Not just tobacco. Something laced, a blend of herbs, chemicals, maybe medication.]} “Your name,” the fox replies calmly. His voice is rough, gravelly, smoked raw, at odds with his polished corporate suit. {(if: $Mind is true)[To your surprise, it’s unaltered, not filtered through some synthetic implant.]} It catches you off guard: no one has cared about your name in a long time. Unexpected. Do you give him your [[real name -> Name]], or, with a new life beginning, choose something different? {(if: $Eyes is true)[Something that fits a hired gun. Maybe [[Carbine Cat -> NameCringe]] or [[Jack Two-Shots -> NameOK]]?]}{(if: $Body is true)[Something for a brute who refuses to die. [[Max Power -> NameOK]] or maybe [[Ravager -> NameCringe]]?]}{(if: $Mind is true)[Something sharp, fast, dangerous. [[Blitz -> NameOK]] … or [[Carnage -> NameCringe]]?]} Perhaps [[Ashen Serpent -> NameCringe]], in honor of your clan? You always thought that, had you not been born a nomad, you’d make a decent actor. And actors never shy away from flamboyance. [[Arson Decadence -> NameCringe]], perhaps? Or [[Valentin August Verdigris -> NameCringe]]?

“The cards will tell me more than you ever could,” the fox explains, his tone calm, almost reverent. “Unlike people, they never lie. They never betray. They want nothing, not money, not favors. They only serve the purpose they were made for.” His gaze narrows, dangerous but patient. “You want to work with me? Then you’ll play by my rules. Don’t like it? Find another recruiter, guppy.”(set: $Card1 to true) And when he finishes, you feel the pull yourself: curiosity, or temptation. A part of you wants to know what comes next. [[Give in. After all, fate doesn’t exist. This is just a recruiter’s whim. ->CardsPull]]

“A mistake,” Vincent murmurs, a razor smile cutting across his face. “No matter how far you run, fate will always catch you.” [["Cut the theatrics." -> Vincent2]]

“Very well,” the fox inclines his head. “Let us speak of the practical. Tell me about your skills.” {(if: $Card1 is true)[["Didn’t you just say the cards would tell you more than I ever could?" ->QuestionCards]]} [[Describe your abilities -> Skills]]

“He staggered into our camp, coughing, gasping. He demanded a medic and then just collapsed face-first into dust. How he lived through it, I don’t know. Dozens of bullet wounds, burns from acid and fire, as if he’d fought a whole gang loaded with mages. There was more metal in him than meat. However, the synthetic skin did not take root in many places, started to dry out and die, falling off in whole pieces.” You fall silent for a moment, the memory pressing in. Then you go on: “Customs say you don’t abandon a begging traveler if you can help him. So despite some protests, we hauled him into a medic tent, fed him, patched him. No one believed he’d pull through. Our ripper even prepped scalpel and forceps to strip his implants. But a miracle happened. Or a horror. And by morning he was gone, without word of thanks. He left a parting gift instead. The plague. Days later people started falling sick, a week after that came the first deaths. My family and friends rotted before my eyes. The worse your mutations, the worse the rot. I had to trade my wrench for a scalpel and pliers and help the sick.” [[“Until I fell in that bed myself.” -> VincentWanderer0]]

“The same plague half a year ago, the one behind all these lovely little inspections,” the fox mutters knowingly, exhaling a thin ribbon of smoke. “At least, the symptoms match… Curious. And your whole clan died out?” “Not all of us, obviously,” you answer. “Some pulled through and built up an immunity. But the clan itself couldn’t endure. The survivors just scattered.” “Like you.” “Like me.” You shrug. Vincent drags on his pipe, clouding the space between you in bitter smoke before speaking again. “Mother Dorothy, head of the Black Vanguard, might want to hear about this Wanderer. If he really is the one spreading disease. Though, frankly, I doubt others will believe it,” his mechanical jaw flexes as his gaze pins you in place. “Work for me a while, and I’ll see what I can dig up on this old man: who he is, where to find him. For now, I’ll tell you only this: he is not in Lunard. If I learn more, I’ll share.”(set: $Vincent to true) [["Why help me at all? And why did //you// believe me so quickly?" -> VincentWanderer1]] [["Fine. Let’s cooperate. What’s the job?" -> Vincent2]]

“Because fate doesn’t lose its prey,” Vincent replies without hesitation. “Because I crossed paths with this man myself, about six months ago. And because…” He falls silent, only to break into a fit of rasping coughs. “Because to nearly rot alive and claw your way back… only to spend the rest of your days dying slow from lungs scarred with bronchiectasis, that’s a vicious jest of fortune.” Another drag, another plume of smoke. “Implants didn’t not take hold, grafting new lungs did not help... Not everyone was blessed as you were.”(set: $Vincent to true) [["All right. I’m willing to work with you. Where do we start?" -> Vincent2]]

“I want to read your fate,” Vincent says evenly, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. He doesn’t elaborate, just waits, patient and unblinking. [["Since when do corporate recruiters at mercenary organizations believe in fate? And start interviews with tarot readings?" -> Vincent1]] [["Are you a recruiter or a gypsy in a suit? I came for work, not a tarot spread for love and friendship." -> Vincent1]] [[Draw three cards ->CardsPull]]

Big D snorts, shaking his bulk. “Damn, nosy, huh? Listen, all you need to know: he’s a weird motherfucker. And if you want him to like you. And trust me, you want him to like you. Don’t fry his brain with questions. Just ride the current till he offers you a job and a price.” [["Alright, I’ll look for him tomorrow. Can I get a room here?" -> Sleep]]

You rip your arm free from her claws and turn to leave, but her voice snaps back at you, stripped of flirtation, face gone flat: “Oh, relax, I wasn’t that desperate. You wanna find the Howling Pit? I know the way. Fresh meat like you won’t make it there on your own.” You pause, staring at her. “Ten credits,” the cat-girl says coolly. [["Go fuck yourself with such prices." -> Lunard1]] [["Five." -> Whore3]] [["First the goods. Then the cash." -> Whore4]]

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, cheapskate,” she sighs. “Fine. Five. Head down that street, keep straight till you hit the gun shop ‘Black Shell’. From there, left to the end, then right.” She finishes and extends her hand expectantly. [[Pay -> PaidLess]] [[Don’t pay -> NotPaid]]

“Oh, you people are all so damned cautious these days,” she sighs. “Fine. Head down that street, keep straight till you hit the gun shop ‘Black Shell’. From there, left to the end, then right.” She finishes and extends her hand expectantly. [[Pay -> Paid]] [[Don’t pay -> NotPaid]]

“Howling Pit?” she wrinkles her nose. “Why bother with that stinking hole? There are nicer places around here. Come on, I’ll show you.” Her grip is soft but insistent, pulling you along. That syrupy scent presses you forward. [["I don’t have time for this." -> Whore1]] [[Give in to lust ->WhoreTime]]

Then comes the howl. A harsh, rasping cry that scrapes along your bones like a fork across glass. Turning, you glimpse shapes racing from the dark. {(if: $Mind is true) [Two shadowy forms with eyes burning in the gloom, and a third, towering beast, three times their size. You have a heartbeat to react, but it’s more than enough.] }{(if: $Eyes is true) [Three wolfish monsters, twisted by mutation. One’s skull is half a writhing knot of toothed worms, a stunted fifth limb jutting from its flank. The second’s black pelt rots away, exposing sinew and bone. The third dwarfs them both, a grotesque blend of lion and hyena with gorilla-thick forelimbs and a mane of tentacles writhing across its neck. Their eyes lock on you. A low, hungry growl vibrates from their throats. You see it all in an instant. You must act, now.]} [[Revolver -> Revolver]] [[Machete -> Machete]]

You drop to the roadside and start rummaging through the medkit, fingers clumsy with blood. You scrub and bind what you can and, just in case, swallow the antibiotics. There are only two pills left, but two are better than none. Better that than infection, or whatever pestilence these things might carry. (set: $Wounded to true) (set: $Wounded1 to true) Wounded, but alive, you push on. One last stretch, and there’s the checkpoint at the [[city’s rim-> Suburb]].

“A wasteland barbarian,” the lizard snorts, voice thick with disdain. “We really scraped the bottom of the barrel with this one.” The barb was aimed at the paragonian, but Ezekiel pretends not to hear, focused instead on the droids. “Listen up, nomad…” he grunts. “My name’s $Name,” you answer calmly. “Fine, $Name. Let’s put the rules straight,” Pavel leans close, and the smell of cheap tobacco hits your face. “I lead this team. Not only because I punch harder than ten of you. Nut because I’ve been in the Forbidden Lands and the Lost Capital. You follow my orders. I say run, you run. I say drop, you go face-first into the dirt. I say jump, you can ask how far. If you want to live, you don’t take a single step without permission. Understand?” [[“Alright. Ezekiel warned me about this. You just don’t have to be an asshole about it.” ->CalmTeam]] [[“Ezekiel hired me. If he orders me to follow you, I will.” ->ForTeam]]

Mercury rubs her hands together. “Attention, everyone… Anecdote incoming! A mage, a lizard, and a girl with a rifle are driving toward a cursed city…” She gives you all a mischievous look. “Sounds like the setup to a joke, right? Except the punchline’s probably a crater.” She winks at you through the rear-view mirror. Pavel raises his beer like a toast. Ezekiel mutters something about “idiots.” [["That was dark." ->Anekdote1]] [["Hah! Good one." ->Anekdote1]]

“I’ve heard nomads have a pretty… //unique// sense of humor,” Mercury chuckles. “Come on, tell us a joke.” [["Alright, give me a sec…" ->TellAnekdote]]

“This equipment and weaponry I place at your disposal only for the duration of the mission,” the paragonian declares, voice cold and formal. Then, with a sly flicker of indulgence, he adds: “For now. Should you return alive and desire to keep them, you may… purchase them off me.” You lift the lid. Inside lies a neatly folded suit plated with ceramic armor, more akin to medieval knight’s plate than anything modern. The helmet bears a respirator grafted where a visor should be. “This is the SPS, Standard Protective Suit of the Paragon,” Ezekiel proclaims, pride curling his lips. “Acquiring four of these was the most difficult ordeal in all my preparations. It is hermetically sealed, and yes, stiflingly hot. But without its safeguards, the Forbidden Lands will slay you long before any mutant or anomaly has the chance. And here —” he taps a strange gray box, fixated on the side of the suit, “— is the Ayle Counter, tuned to measure ambient magical flux. The faster it ticks, the closer you are to a most unpleasant death. I can, of course, perceive distortions myself when they are near. But one can never be too cautious.” You test the weight of the suit, cinch straps, adjust fastenings to fit your frame, then set it carefully back in its case. As though reminded of something, Ezekiel rummages through his robe until he produces a small earpiece. “Communicator. For intra-squad contact. With luck, it will function even within the Forbidden Lands,” he presses it into your hand. {(if: $Body is true)[[Point to the capsule: “And that… what in the blazes is it? Looks like a barrel of that nuclear swill they serve in the Howling Pit.” ->Sword]]}{(else:)[[Nod at the case: “And here, I presume, lies my weapon?” ->Gun]]}

“Confirmed,” Mercury’s voice comes through. She has already vanished from the sight. “Hear you,” says Ezekiel, lifting the long black case from the trailer and slinging it across his back. {(if: $Body is true) [In his other hand he grips a heavy sidearm, its barrel engraved with glowing runes, the weight of it unmistakable even at a glance.]} “Good,” Pavel’s claws tap on the terminal inside the trailer; he pulls out another long case and shuts the door behind him. {(if: $PavelGood >= 1) ["Here’s the drill. We move slow. Eyes sharp. No one fires without my word. We keep to shadows and broad streets. Drones fly point. Mercury — you’re on controls and recon, fifteen meters ahead. Behind you goes $Name with a free android, guarding the sorcerer. I’ll take the rear with our porter, covering the tail. Listen to the sensors and keep quiet, don't talk shit for no reason. Watch your step and don't throw bolts into the anomalies. Any questions?"]}{(if: $PavelGood <= 0) ["Listen up. We move slow, eyes open. No shooting without orders, no running ahead. We keep to shadows and broad streets. Drones fly point. Mercury — you’re on controls and recon, fifteen meters ahead. Behind you, the nomad with a free android, guarding the sorcerer. I’ll cover the rear with our porter, making sure no one screws this up. Listen to the sensors and keep quiet, don't talk shit for no reason. Watch your step and don't throw bolts into the anomalies. Any questions?” he says “no one” in a way that clearly means someone specific, and it’s not the droids, nor the paragonian.]} {(if: $PavelGood is true) [["What’s the line here? Acknowledged?” ->Enter]]}{(else:) [["See you don’t screw it up yourself.” ->Enter]]} [["Why stick to wide streets? Wouldn’t alleys and ruins be safer, draw less attention?” ->IsItBetter]] [["That’s soldier talk, every word of it. Where did you serve?” ->WhoIsPAvel]]

“Everything works, but I wouldn’t bet money on this nag. And it’s badly under-geared.” “We have tools, a spare wheel, some parts,” Ezekiel says, clearly unhappy with your verdict. “This isn’t about swapping parts. You need a new vehicle. This one’s made for city streets, smooth asphalt. Not for hauling a trailer through wasteland. The suspension’ll give out, mark my words. And besides...” you shrug, “someone died in that cabin. That stink doesn’t wash out.” “I had to cut corners during prep. Couldn’t afford anything better,” the mage admits, spreading his hands. [[“We’ll manage, it’s not a world tour. Just means we’ll have to choose our route carefully. If it stalls, I’ll get it running again.” ->Present]]

You struggle to your knees and pick up the enchanted pistol. An amazing weapon, after all, one that just saved your lives. {(if: $PavelGood >= 2) [Pavel slings his rifle and steps over, helping you to stand up.]} {(if: $PavelGood <= 1) ["Even a blind will eventually hit a target," Pavel remarks dryly.]} {(if: $PavelGood <= 1) [You push yourself up on your own, swaying. ]}Your head pounds, ears ringing, as though the Watchers’ psychic pressure hasn’t vanished, only eased. “We need to move, now!” Ezekiel’s voice snaps, raw with nerves. “Before more of them come. Those were castle sentinels: if there were two, there could be twenty. Pavel, grab the explosives. $Name, with me. We shouldn’t waste a second.” [["Yeah, we’d better hurry." ->Dungeon]] [["What about Mercury?" ->BadMercuryDead]] [["Those… things… they used magic." ->BadEzekiel?1]] [["Wait. Before we move on... How the hell did you survive that?" ->BadHow]]

{(if: $TitanClue is true)[“When we fled that titan, you said you risked your life casting even the simplest spell. And these things… whatever they are… they were flinging magic around like it was cheap confetti.” “I have no idea how they managed it,” Ezekiel spreads his hands. “Even how those machines kept functioning here for more than a century, I can’t even imagine. That should be scientifically impossible.”]}{(if: $TitanClue is false)[“You said magic couldn’t be used inside the Forbidden City.” “It can,” the mage waves the thought aside. “What I said was that it’s dangerous and deadly. I have no idea how and why those machines managed it. The Forbidden Lands don’t obey the laws we know. Here, anything is possible.”]} His eyes sweep over the ruin the Watchers left behind. “Ezekiel’s right,” Pavel cuts in. “If these two found us, more will follow. We shouldn’t waste time.” (set: $EzekielLie1 to true) [["Fine. Let’s move." ->BetterEnd]] {(if: $EzekielLie2 is false)[["But before we go, I still want to know, how did you survive?" ->BadHow]]}{(if: $EzekielLie2 is true and $Mind is true or $TitanClue is true)[["You're not telling us everything. I want the truth." ->TrueEnd]]}

“You didn’t even try to run for cover when it all began. Just stood there, staring into nothing. {(if: $TitanClue is true)[Just like when we met the Titan.]}” (set: $EzekielLie2 to true) “They struck at our minds,” the mage shrugs. “But their main blow fell on me. It wasn’t just an attempt to cripple me, it was an attempt to dominate. While you fought them here, I was locked in battle on a mental plane.” “Mm yeah…” Pavel mutters, rubbing his temples. “They’re dead, and my skull still feels like someone clubbed me with a stock.” “It will pass,” Ezekiel assures him evenly. [["Alright. We’d better move." ->Dungeon]] {(if: $EzekielLie1 is false)[["Those… machines… were using magic." ->BadEzekiel?1]]}{(if: $EzekielLie1 is true and $Mind is true or $TitanClue is true)[["I don’t believe you. Tell me the truth." ->TrueEnd]]}

“Dead,” Ezekiel says. “She knew the risks. The girl was a sniper, not supposed to play hero. She paid the price for arrogance.” “We lost the entire escort,” Pavel mutters, eyeing the smear on the floor that used to be one of your robotic servants. You scan the hall and spot her body nearby. It’s twisted at an unnatural angle, legs reduced to pulp. The sight sends a lump rising to your throat. {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2) [["Are we going to just leave her like this?"->BadMercuryDead1]]}{(if: $PavelGood is <= 1) [["You mean to just leave her here? Like this?"->BadMercuryDead1]]}

“And what do you suggest?” the Paragonian sneers. “A hero’s funeral? Here?” {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2) ["We don’t have time to mourn,” Pavel says firmly. “Of course it’s a pity about the girl, but we all knew what we were walking into."]}{(if: $PavelGood is <= 2) ["No time to whine, rookie,” Pavel growls, then more harshly barks: “So pull yourself together and move.”]} {(if: $EzekielLie2 is false)[["Before we go, I still want to know, how did you survive?" ->BadHow]]}{(if: $EzekielLie2 is true and $Mind is true or $TitanClue is true)[["You're not telling us everything. I want the truth." ->TrueEnd]]}

“I commend your insight,” the mage says calmly. “You managed to see through me and surprise me. I shouldn’t have tried to subjugate the Watchers. Greed almost ruined me again.” “Oh spare me the villain monologue,” you wave a hand. “You lied to us.” “Villain?” the mage frowns. “$Name, do not mistake me for a monster. I am just doing what this world needs.” I feel like I'm about to hear the good old story: my higher goals justify any means. Ezekiel ignores the jab. He lifts his chin and speaks with proud certainty: “I am returning to life the one who can mend it. I am not only a psion, but a necromancer as well. And the mage entombed here will not merely bring order to these ravaged lands, he will bring judgement on all those fools, who were guilty of the Empire’s fall.” “Right,” you exhale. “Classic.” [["You’ve been screwing us from the start." ->Reason]] [["What do you care about this Empire anyway? This stinks of self-interest." ->Reason1]] [["And now what?" ->Next]]

Mercury slings her rifle onto her back and jams the injector into her forearm, exhaling in relief. Pavel hefts the crate of explosives. [["Let’s finish the job and get the hell out of here." ->Dungeon]]

“Adventurers’ and mercenaries’ fairy tales,” Pavel snorts. “All those stories about the ‘Heart of the Forbidden Lands’, Blessings, and ’wish-granters’ are just bait for naive guppies.” “I wouldn’t say that,” the mage unexpectedly replies. “Or rather, I’d say it differently…” He starts rummaging through the folds of his robes until he pulls out a battered notebook stuffed with bookmarks. Flipping through a few pages, he finds the notes he was looking for. “What mercenaries and explorers call ‘Blessings’ are most likely ancient artifacts of immense power. Whoever gets their hands on something like that isn’t exactly going to shout about it on the nearest street corner. And witnesses, well, they’d probably attribute the powers these artifacts grant to ‘miracles’ or ‘blessings’ of the Forbidden Lands. Or, at the very least, the so-called blessings are just the chaotic magical influence of the Lands awakening dormant abilities in people. Magical powers they already had, but didn’t know about.” For a moment, silence settles in the cabin, until Mercury breaks it with an irritated groan: “Ugh, you just had to ruin the mystery, didn’t you, wizard? It was such a nice legend, and you killed it with some dry, logical explanation!” “My apologies,” Ezekiel chuckles. “Skepticism is a professional hazard.” [["Alright then, so what happened next? The whole group didn’t make it back?" ->GroupDead]] [["Pavel, you’ve been to the Capital, right? What can you tell us about it?" ->WorkTalkPavel]]

You sprint forward, weaving like prey through invisible blows and hurled debris. Bullets whip past, explosions rattle the walls, but none of it matters. Ten meters. Five. You leap, blade raised high. The second Watcher’s eye flares. Mid-air, you freeze. Not for long. [["Shit..." -> GameOver2]]

You dive for cover as telekinetically hurled stone and bone shatter the ground near you. [[Jam a stim into your veins ->BodyStim]] [[Try to flank them ->BodyFlankFail]]

You burst from cover and sprint, weaving between shattered columns. Faster than you’ve ever run. One Watcher shifts its focus. The floor where you stood a heartbeat ago erupts under a telekinetic blow, shards of bone and stone spraying wide. [[Hack the bastard down ->StimCloseCombat]] [[Throw a grenade ->CloseCombatGranade]]

You zigzag, dodging the telekinetic hail. Springing from a toppled column, you hurl yourself straight at the nearest Watcher. A twist in midair, an invisible blast slams into the wall behind you. Your sword crashes against its shield. The living blade shrieks with delight, pressing against the barrier. You land beside it, step aside, and deliver a series of powerful blows to his shield. The shield shudders, the sword’s edge glowing red as it drinks your blood. One strike, then another, the barrier flickers and fades, but the Watcher’s eye ignites brighter. [[Go for the kill ->FailBodyFinisher]] [[Break away ->FailBodyDash]]

[["Scatter!" ->SwordCover]] [[Rush forward and start slashing ->Slash]] [[Throw a grenade at them->GrenadeThrow]]

Rage clouds your eyes. You leap forward, your sword pulsing in your hand, demanding battle. Pavel shouts something and, together with the droid, opens heavy fire, covering you. You strike the shield again and again, each blow echoing with pain in your hand, blood flows from your nose. The Watcher flies away from you, a wave of invisible force knocks down the last droid and throws Pavel aside. You leap across the distance between you, and a crushing blow breaks through your opponent's defenses. You raise your hand for a second blow and freeze, unable to move. The blue eye of the creature is focused on you. The blue eye of a grim reaper. Your whole body feels as if being crushed by an industrial press, your bones crack, your lungs unable to draw in a sip of air. [["Fuck..." ->NotMageEnd]]

You jam the injector into your forearm, the long needle punching through the suit. A freezing rush floods your veins, burning away the haze. Pain recedes, the ringing in your head dies. The world sharpens, and the sword pulses in your grip, hungry for blood. A thunderous crack echoes across the hall: Mercury’s heavy rifle round slams into one of the Watchers, its shield barely holding. It turns toward her, crystal-eye blazing brighter. The column she hides behind splinters under the weight of its psychic strike. You notice Ezekiel, the very man you’re supposed to protect, standing frozen in the open, unmoving, not even trying to take cover. [[Charge while they’re distracted ->StimCloseCombat]] [[Circle around ->BodyFlank]]

You hold still, pressed into cover. Pavel and the last drone keep up suppressing fire, drawing its attention. Ezekiel finally stirs from his trance, raising his rune-carved pistol. Your heart hammers as you slip along the flank. The Watcher’s shield hisses under incoming fire. Bone and stone shred the drone and slam Pavel to the ground, but the mage’s blue tracer breaks the barrier. Strike! You slash hard: the sword howls and the Watcher’s body is split cleanly in two. The halves hang for a breath, then thud to the floor. [["Shit, that was close..." ->BadEnd]]

“Exactly!” exclaims the magician. "Although, to make sure you understand me correctly, allow me to elaborate. What interests me, are the remains of the ancient Overlord. Though, to be clear, not the bones themselves, but the knowledge still bound within them. If I can deliver those remains back to the Amethyst Tower Academy in Paragon, my colleagues will use them to reach across the veil, commune with the spirit of that very Overlord, and record his life story firsthand!” He even claps his hands, delight sparkling in his eyes at the thought. “And then,” he adds with a venomous grin, “All those smug book and paper rats, the ones who sneered at my expedition, saying that I’d stuffed my head with fairy tales, they’ll be forced to eat their own damn hats!" This sorcerer's confidence is contagious. Even you feel a sense of excitement and adventure awakening within you, despite your lingering doubts. [[“//If// you're right and //if// we find what you're looking for.”->If]] [[“Sounds too good to be true. Surely such a place, would be heavily guarded. What do you expect us to face?” ->Danger?]] [[“This sure as hell won’t be a stroll in the park. How do you weigh the risks, and how much are you willing to pay?”->Pay]]

Every muscle strains, tendons screaming, bones creaking. Your chest tightens, no breath left. The Watcher crushes you slow, like a serpent savoring the kill, ignoring Pavel’s frantic bursts of fire. Boom! Mercury’s rifle tears through its side. The grip slackens. Another round, and its shield shatters. Gunfire stitches across its chest. The final shot blows the crystal-eye apart. The Watcher crashes down, twitching, and you collapse with it, coughing blood and sucking air back into your lungs. [["That’s what you get, you bastard!" ->WoundedGoodEnd]]

“Pff! No. I’m not going there to pick my brother’s corpse out of some mutant’s guts or an anomaly field…” Mercury waves her hand dismissively. “I’m interested in the Lost Capital itself. That place isn’t just special... it’s… how do I even put it… You can’t say you’ve seen everything life has to offer if you haven’t been there. Terrible and beautiful all at once. It changes the fate of everyone who sets foot inside, even just once. I want to see what it has in store for me.” [["You are just tired of living, huh?" ->ReallyMercury1]] [["That’s… quite a motivation. I expected something else." ->ReallyMercury1]]

Your eyes are black now, each split by two vertical pupils. Your legs ache with the endless march, yet you press on. The canister drags at your arm. Branches crack louder in the brush. (set: $Eyes to true) [[Shit… -> WolfAttack]]

Your muscles are ropes of steel, granting you monstrous endurance. Another man would have collapsed from thirst and exhaustion hours ago, but you trudge on, unbowed. Your legs barely ache. The ten-liter canister weighs nothing in your grip. (set: $Body to true) [[… -> WolfAttack]]

Your thoughts no longer flow, they fall like rain, simultaneous and parallel. This gift has already saved you once in a firefight that claimed your comrade’s life. But tonight, cleverness is no shield. Your body drags with weariness, the canister gnaws at your hand, and your legs grow wooden from the march. Still, you endure. (set: $Mind to true) [[Must keep going… -> WolfAttack]]

“I might be young, but I’ve seen combat. I’m a solid mechanic and driver, and I can patch you up if someone pokes a few holes in you. The mage hired me, so that means I’m qualified.” The lizard bares sharp triangular teeth and lumbers toward you. {(if: $Body is true) [He isn’t much more muscular than you, but he’s a head taller.]}{(else:) [He’s a full head taller than you, and about one-and-a-half times broader across the shoulders.]}{(if: $Mind is true) [ Despite his bulk he moves with a soldier’s economy: there’s a military cadence to every step. This is not a man of the rag-and-bone guard, he served somewhere that taught discipline.]} “How many runs into the Forbidden Lands have you done? How many contracts closed, rookie?” he asks you. “Oh! I’ve got six!” the girl chimes, bouncing. “Twenty-two confirmed kills.” The lizard turns on her with a look. “Mercury?” he growls. “Yeah?” “Shut it.” [[“Don't give me that crap. I've already been hired.” ->NotYourBusines]] [[“None. I’m a nomad. Never thought I’d work under anyone but my clan.” ->AmaNomad]]

For a moment you think Pavel’s about to spit out another sharp remark. Instead, he just makes a low, rumbling sound, almost approving. “Alright. Maybe we //can// work together after all.”(set: $PavelGood to it +1) [["I hope so." ->Mercury2]]

Almost eight hours of relentless driving through that hellish landscape have left you morally dried out and spent. The nervous edge has gone, in its place a heavy, numbing apathy settles in. Until, finally, that living forest of flesh and rot grudgingly opens and the horizon gives you a sight you would not believing in. The Lost Capital. A ring of monumental walls rises so high that only the spires of skyscrapers peer above them. In many places great rents gape where the masonry collapsed, probably burying whole neighborhoods. The sky over them cracks now and again with blood-red flares. The mutated woods thin out and you roll into the suburbs, if you can call them that: more like a field of ruins, teeth of concrete and twisted steel. You thread the way through toppled barricades, ruined military hardware and tanks, craters left by spells and shells, some of them wider than your vehicle. This is an ancient battlefield. Of a war so vast and all-consuming that thousands of lives seem like grains of sand in the ocean of the desert. This is the fallen Olympus, built and destroyed by the gods. [["Mother of God..." ->Capital1]]

Pushing a path between the ruins, driving gets harder.The radar starts to go haywire, as do the sensors on the car's dashboard. The electronics may not be failing, but they refuse to work properly. With effort you tow the last stretch and come up on a huge breach in the city wall. There, frozen like a titan who tried to siege a fortress of gods, stands a colossal construct of stone and metal: an ancient Warlord engine, big enough to lift your moto-carriage in one hand and crush it. It ripped a hole in the walls with those hands but could not pass through: a yawning melted hole gapes in its chest. The machine didn’t fall. It has stood for decades in the break it made, a terrible monument to the war. “Find somewhere to stash our heap,” Pavel orders, snapping you back to the moment. “We go on foot from here.” [["Alright..." ->Capital2]]

You park the vehicle inside the ruins of the nearest building. Your small band spills out, hands already on weapons, eyes scanning. Mercury and Pavel move to the trailer without hesitation. The mechanical door jamms, so they pry it open. Another half a minute, and a couple of security droids emerged. The first one poking around with the guns built into his hands, while the second is busy carrying a heavy plastic box with explosives. Behind them flew a couple of bio-drones released from their compartment. The supplies are distributed among the backpacks, pockets are filled with cartridges and stimulant injectors. Grenades are hung on the belts reserved for them. “Comm check,” Pavel’s voice breathes into your earpiece, slightly distorted. “One, two, three. You read me?” [["Loud and clear." ->Arrival]]

You cut across the district and find yourself in a rather poor neighborhood, surrounded by ancient, crumbling apartment blocks. Locals, with the look of thugs and scavengers, track you with measuring eyes. A turn of the street brings you to a large concrete-walled parking lot. From inside comes music playing over loudspeakers. At the gate lie several bloodied corpses: two bandits from some gang mowed down by what looks like a machine-gun burst, and a third. His torso shredded to pulp as if hit by a grenade launcher. Ezekiel passes them without sparing a glance, only lifting the hem of his robe so as not to stain it. [["We’re really going in there? That poor bastard looks like he took a hit from an anti-tank rifle!" ->MeetTheSniper]]

"Типичная комбинация для типичного наёмника..." вздыхает лис, вновь окидывая взглядом карты. "Башня, Дурак и Маг. Неожиданные препятствия на пути, нужда в толике удачи, храбрости и вере, чтобы их преодолеть, а так же возможность нового начала. Ну и шанс в конце получить желаемый исход." Винсент вновь затягивается дымом. "Говорит лишь о том, что ты скучный человек, со скучными желаниями," хмыкает он. Но прежде чем ты успеваешь что-то ответить, добавляет: "Хотя, одного у тебя не отнять. Ты чертовски удачливый сукин сын. {(if: $Legend is true)[К звёздам стремятся все, но мало кто даже увидит их за пеленой облаков.]}{(if: $Life is true)[И пусть эта удача не даст тебе спокойно жить, большая часть наёмников, которые через меня проходят, не имеют даже этого.]}" "Кажется, я слышу это уже не впервые, но давай уже перейдём к [[делу?-> Vincent]]." “A typical spread for a typical mercenary…” Vincent exhales, his gaze sweeping the cards again. “The Tower, the Fool, the Magus. Unexpected obstacles in your path, demanding luck, courage, and faith to overcome. And, perhaps, the chance for a new beginning. A chance to claim what you seek at the end.” He drags deep on his pipe, smoke curling like scripture around his head. “It tells me only this: you’re dull. A man of dull wants,” a faint click as his jaw shifts. Then, before you can reply, he adds, “But one thing you do have. Luck. More than most.{(if: $Legend is true)[ Many chase the stars. Few even glimpse them through the clouds.]}{(if: $Life is true)[ It won’t make your life easier, but most mercenaries who cross my path don’t even have that much.] }” “Sounds familiar,” you mutter. “But let’s get to [[business -> Vincent]].”

You draw three cards and flip them face up. {(if: $Revenge is true) [The first shows a human skeleton bristling with implants, looming over a city at night. The second is a golden coin balanced on its edge. The third depicts a beast that looks like a dragon, wings spread wide, a hammer clutched in its claws. Vincent bares his teeth in something like a grin, as much as his mechanical jaw allows.] } {(else:) [The first card shows a glass tower seen from an ant’s-eye view. The second, a grotesque jester juggling knives. The third, a figure like a sorcerer, staff in one hand, book in the other, with a pair of biomechanical skulls floating beside him. Vincent frowns, as much as his artificial face allows.]} {(if: $Revenge is true) [[“What’s so funny? Care to explain what it means?” ->CardsRevenge]]}{(else:)[[“What is it? Care to explain?”->CardsElse]]} [[Satisfied? Can we move on to business now? ->CardsPull?]]

“You don’t even ask what the cards mean?” Vincent raises a brow, faintly surprised. “Strange. Most people can’t resist. Even if they claim not to believe, curiosity always wins.” And for some reason, his roughened voice stirs your interest. That sly, ironic gaze keeps you hooked. {(if: $Revenge is true)[[“Fine. Indulge me.” ->CardsRevenge]]]} {(else:)[[“Fine. Indulge me.” ->CardsElse]]]} [["Maybe I’m the exception. I don’t believe in fate. I’m here for work, not ominous prophecies." -> Vincent1.5]]

“An interesting combination…” he murmurs, re-scanning the cards. “Cause: Death. And I mean literal death, in your case. Death that became the wind that set the mill of your fate in motion. Then the Wheel of Fortune: self-explanatory it would seem. Bad luck is a stone blocking your path, you’ll need a slice of luck to get to…” He draws in smoke and coughs. “Judgement,” he finishes. “The great reckoning.” “What are you hinting at?” you ask, a little stunned. “Hah. I don’t hint. I tell it straight,” Vincent’s smile is thin. “You are eager to bring retribution. But with equal chances, you may find yourself either as the judge or the accused... That’s one reading. There is another...” He thinks for a beat, pipe smoke threading the air. “Well?” you prod. “The cyclical nature of existence,” he says finally. “The death of the past, the turning of the wheel of fate, and the cleansing that brings a new beginning. And here’s the question that torments me, $Name…” His eyes pin you with an intent stare. “Who is it you want to destroy? And why do the cards say you have a shot?” [["That’s none of your business. I came for work, not vague prophecies." -> Vincent2]] [["We called him the Dark Wanderer." ->Wanderer]]

“That one bothers me in particular,” you say, nodding toward a box marked with a warning label. “Supplies. Ammunition. A few grenades, combat stims. And ten kilos of TNT,” the lizard-soldier replies without blinking. You frown at him, sure he’s joking. “I don’t joke,” Pavel grins wolfishly, serrated teeth flashing. “We’ll need it for… unconventional breaching. Don’t worry, it won’t go off if you don’t drop it. Besides, what else are rookies for, if not carrying dead weight?” “He is merely trying to rattle you,” Ezekiel cuts in sharply, his patrician patience thinning. “Naturally, the explosives will be borne by an android.” “I thought as much,” you nod. “And that long case with the sigil?” “My instruments,” the mage replies, tone brooking no further inquiry. [[“Alright. Load up. We’ve lingered here long enough.” ->IntoCar]]

You risk a glance from cover, just for a moment. {(if: $Eyes is true) [Your head is fog. Hearing’s gone. The last android is nothing but a bloody smear on the flor. Ezekiel stands there untouched, same spot as before. Pavel’s nearby, wounded, ripping the cap off an injector. Mercury’s nowhere to be seen.]}{(if: $Mind is true) [Your mind clears from the psychic assault and you see again. The last android is nothing but a bloody smear on the flor. Ezekiel — still standing in the open, exactly where he was from the start. The ground around him looks like it’s been shelled by artillery, but the mage hasn’t gotten a scratch.]} {(if: $Mind is true) [Pavel’s behind a column near you, clutching a bleeding shoulder. Wounded, but alive, fumbling for an injector. Mercury’s likely dead: the cover she was firing from is nothing but a shattered heap.]} {(if: $Eyes is true) [["I have to finish this." ->FinalBlast]]} {(if: $Mind is true) [["I have to finish this." ->FinalBlast]]} {(if: $Eyes is true) [["Pavel, together!" ->CheckFinalBlast]]} {(if: $Mind is true) [["Pavel, together!" ->CheckFinalBlast]]}

You roll from cover, push up, and fire. {(if: $Mind is true) [The Watcher turns too late. A round misses, the next two rip apart its shield, sparks scattering. You lunge forward, fire again, the shot tears through its shoulder.]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [You don’t even know if Pavel heard your yell: you didn’t hear it yourself. The Watcher turns, but sluggish. Two shots and its shield shatters in a spray of sparks.]} A wave of raw force smashes into you, tossing you five meters through the air. The pistol skids away. You try to rise, but your legs won’t move. That single blue eye fixes on you, cold and merciless. Something falls to the floor next to the Watcher. It looks away from you, only to disappear in the flash and the roar of an exploding grenade. [["Hell, that was close…" ->BadEnd]]

[[You are determined to leave your old life behind and start a new one. This is your chance to become something bigger than a desperate nomadic kid. ->Road]] (set: $Legend to true)

[[You are determined to find the Dark Wanderer. To end him. Not out of longing, not out of grief for what was stolen, but because the right thing to do. ->Road]] (set: $Revenge to true)

[[You survived plague and the fall of your clan. You braved a long and perilous road. You’ll endure whatever comes next. ->Road]] (set: $Life to true)

Several undead creatures, raised by chaotic magic, rushed out of one of the buildings toward your squad. Their unnatural existence was ended by a burst of fire from Pavel's rifle and the droid's hand cannon, shattering the mind-numbing silence. And finally, you arrived at the citadel. Only now, coming closer, can you appreciate its true size. The titan you saw in the breach in the city wall would seem like a decorative statue against the backdrop of this castle's towers. Whole bastions toppled, walls riddled with holes from explosions and spells. But, like the titan, the citadel persists in spite of everything. Passing through the deserted park, you find yourself before a huge stone arch, taller than any cathedral doorframe, blasted inward by some unknown force along with pieces of the walls. [[//We’re almost there// ->MainHall]]

The bio-drones glide ahead in silence, peering down from intact rooftops and into hollow windows of the ruins. Beside you, the security droid lumbers forward, its heavy steps thudding in rhythm, its head sweeping side to side. And yet, even stripped of mind and feeling, it seems reluctant to be here, as if even this husk of a man wants nothing to do with the road ahead. Around you lies absolute silence. Only the sound of your boots and your own breath fills the air. “Do you feel it?” the mage’s voice filters through his gasmask, muffled, low. He’s cut his comms, so you realize the question is meant for you alone. You turn your head. His eyes burn with feverish light, brimming with hunger and anticipation. “What exactly am I supposed to feel?” “Power,” he breathes, almost entranced. “The power of spells that melted tanks and titans into slag. The power of an empire, a thousand years in the making! The greatness of the Overlords… gone and squandered, lost forever.” [["What do I care about some dead age? We’re here and now. And we can’t afford distractions." ->City1.1]] [["I barely know anything about history. No idea what this empire was, who the Overlords were, or what this city really means." ->City1.2]] [["I don’t know a damn thing about your ‘lost age.’ What I do know is: this place is too fucking quiet." ->City1.1]]

“Well said,” Pavel's barely audible voice echoes in your ear. “Now, both of you shut the hell up.” The group presses on in tense silence, boots crunching past skeletal frames of buildings and mounds of debris, until the road opens into a strangely pristine boulevard. On either side, tall buildings tower like blackened husks, their walls scorched as if fire had gutted them from within. But the street itself is unnaturally clean. No rubble. No bones. No wreckage. Just smooth, unbroken asphalt, black as pitch. “Drones are picking up movement,” Mercury’s voice suddenly crackles through the comms. “Two hundred meters ahead.” “What kind of movement?” Pavel snaps, already flicking his rifle’s safety off. “I… don’t know. Not alive, though.” “For fuck’s sake, describe it.” “They look like… shadows. Like smoke made human. They flicker, scatter, and pull back together. Dozens of them, drifting along the street without purpose.” “Ghosts?” Ezekiel exhales. There is no fear in his voice, only the curiosity inherent in all scientists and mages. “Echoes of those who once lived here.” “They’re creepy as hell,” Mercury hisses. “What if they notice us?” “They won’t,” the paragonian’s voice is firm, but not convincing. “They’re harmless... So long as we don’t touch them.” {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2)[["Может всё же лучше обойти их?" ->City2]]}{(if: $PavelGood is <= 1)[["Может всё же лучше обойти их?" ->City3]]} {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2)[["Этот ваш счётчик аномальнго поля молчит. Лучше попытаться пройти здесь, чем потом упереться в стену аномалий и делать огромный крюк. " ->City3]]}{(if: $PavelGood is <= 1) [["Этот ваш счётчик аномальнго поля молчит. Лучше попытаться пройти здесь, чем потом упереться в стену аномалий и делать огромный крюк. " ->City2]]}

“Of course you don’t,” he mutters, with real venom, as if cursing someone not present. “Most have chosen to forget the dead past. Fools. This city is as old as the world itself. Its history runs back thousands of years! Golden ages of peace, of glory. The world was not always the refuse heap you see today. This place proves it: it’s both a monument to splendor… and to the foolishness of mortals and immortals alike. The Ancient Empire united the world, and this city was its crown. But when the Overlords, immortal mages, rulers of that empire, laid down their power, their heirs tore it apart. Their greed and the civil war they started, destroyed in blood what hundreds of generations had built. Robbed us of the inheritance that should have been ours.” [["..." ->City1.2.1]]

“A great story, mr. magician,” Pavel’s voice cuts from the comm. “Maybe shout it louder, so that all the city's undead can hear it!?” The group presses on in tense silence, boots crunching past skeletal frames of buildings and mounds of debris, until the road opens into a strangely pristine boulevard. On either side, tall buildings tower like blackened husks, their walls scorched as if fire had gutted them from within. But the street itself is unnaturally clean. No rubble. No bones. No wreckage. Just smooth, unbroken asphalt, black as pitch. “Drones are picking up movement,” Mercury’s voice suddenly crackles through the comms. “Two hundred meters ahead.” “What kind of movement?” Pavel snaps, already flicking his rifle’s safety off. “I… don’t know. Not alive, though.” “For fuck’s sake, describe it.” “They look like… shadows. Like smoke made human. They flicker, scatter, and pull back together. Dozens of them, drifting along the street without purpose.” “Ghosts?” Ezekiel exhales. There is no fear in his voice, only the curiosity inherent in all scientists and mages. “Echoes of those who once lived here.” “They’re creepy as hell,” Mercury hisses. “What if they notice us?” “They won’t,” the paragonian’s voice is firm, but not convincing. “They’re harmless... So long as we don’t touch them.” {(if: $PavelGood >= 2)[["Maybe we should play it safe and go around them?" ->City2]]}{(if: $PavelGood <= 1)[["Maybe we should play it safe and go around them?" ->City3]]} {(if: $PavelGood >= 2)[["Those sensors of yours aren't beeping. If this isn’t an anomaly, then better we pass here than risk running headfirst into something worse." ->City3]]}{(if: $PavelGood <= 1) [["Those sensors of yours aren't beeping. If this isn’t an anomaly, then better we pass here than risk running headfirst into something worse." ->City2]]}

“Better to find another way than test our luck with the dead. Especially when even you don’t sound so sure of what they are,” Pavel says through comms to the mage. “Squad, new course. Three o’clock. We’ll cut through there.” You leave the boulevard behind, slipping into a nondescript side street. {(if: $PavelGood is <= 1) [And maybe Pavel should’ve listened to you instead.]} The path doesn’t last long. A side alley is blocked by the carcass of a collapsed tower. Another route dead-ends into a gravitational anomaly, cars and whole slabs of buildings spinning lazily in the air. You’re forced to loop wide until you spill out onto another avenue, flanked by the blackened skeletons of high-rises. There had definitely been an intense battle here: pavement is shattered by artillery. Rusted remnants of barricades and gutted remains of tanks and troop carriers everywhere. Half a kilometer in, silence shatters. A low tremor rolls through the ground. [["What the hell was that?" ->City4]]

“Straight ahead,” Pavel decides. “Our mage seems to know what we’re looking at. Better the danger we know than the unknown we don’t.” “Avoid looking them in the face,” adds the paragonian. You draw closer, and at last the shapes come clear. Human silhouettes, woven from greasy smoke. Some drift along the street. Others sit slumped against walls. Some drag invisible bags. Some gesture as if holding conversations with thin air. And then the whispers reach you. Not loud, but relentless. A word here, a phrase there, echoing from every direction: //“Late…” “Breakfast…” “Don’t leave me…” “I’m late…”// You realize each echo is a fragment of a life, frozen forever in place. They repeat what they once did, blind to the fact they’re long dead. The squad presses on. Your footsteps thud like hammers against the chorus of whispers. Every shadow you pass makes your heart clench tighter. Then, one of them breaks away. A woman’s shape, smoke twisted into the suggestion of a body. She veers straight toward you. The empty pits of her eyes sink deep into a face mottled with sores and shifting like melted wax. Her mouth gapes too wide, lined with rows of teeth. [[Freeze ->City3.1]] [[Step aside ->City3.2]]

You snap your gaze away, and the whisper sharpens as she passes through you: “Home… home… where are my children…” Cold spears through your body, as if someone doused you in freezing water. “Shit…” you grit through your teeth, feeling your skin dampen with icy sweat under the protective suit. And just as suddenly, the shade is gone, drifting past without noticing you. The squad keeps walking, and the haunted street ends at a crossroad. All the dead whispers stay behind. [["Yeah… not as bad as it could’ve been." ->City5]]

You sidestep quickly, turning your head away. The whisper breathes past your ear: “Home… home… where are my children…” Cold spears through your body, as if someone doused you in freezing water. “Shit…” you grit through your teeth, feeling your skin dampen with icy sweat under the protective suit. And just as suddenly, the shade is gone, drifting past without noticing you. The squad keeps walking, and the haunted street ends at a crossroad. All the dead whispers stay behind. [["Yeah… not as bad as it could’ve been." ->City5]]

The tremor comes again. Stronger. And then again. From behind a ruined building ahead, it steps into view. A giant of stone and iron, body humanoid but grotesquely misshapen: small head, arms like siege engines. Three stories tall. Each step makes the earth shudder. The earth shook beneath his mighty footsteps. He turned the corner and headed down the street towards you. His chest adorned with a huge hole, in it sparks flashing every now and then. Time stops for a heartbeat. Ezekiel stares wide-eyed, frozen like a rabbit in a torchlight. [["Run!" ->City4.1]] [["Hide!" ->City4.2]]

You grab the mage by the arm and drag him along. “House with the broken wall! Ten o’clock!” Pavel’s command cuts through the panic. You sprint through the ruins, boots hammering broken stone, the titan’s footsteps echoing like rolling thunder behind you. You don’t stop until the vibrations fade into the distance. Ezekiel’s breathing rasps inside his mask, fogging the visor. Mercury drops her camouflage, panting, rifle tight in her hands. Even Pavel takes a moment to catch a breath. “Not much scares me,” Mercury admits with a strained laugh. “But that thing really made my ass sweat.” [["Mage, what the hell was that? If I hadn’t yanked you, you’d still be standing there!" ->City6]]

You yank the stunned mage into the nearest ruin, Pavel and the droids scrambling in after you. You cram into the dark ruins like cockroaches in a crevice. All you can hear is the rumbling footsteps of the titan passing by. It stops right in front of the building. Time freezes, and you hold your breath. The building shivers with every groan of its frame. Seconds crawl into minutes. And then, with a grinding of ancient joints, it turns and stomps away. Only once silence returns do you dare emerge. “Not much scares me,” Mercury admits with a strained laugh. “But that thing really made my ass sweat.” [["Mage, what the hell was that? If I hadn’t pulled you, you’d still be frozen out there!" ->City6]]

You near the city’s center, where there are no streets left to choose. Only collapsed towers and fields of rubble, forcing you to clamber and weave, halting often at the mage’s signals when his senses or the detectors flare. Here, the true horror of the storm reveals itself. A titanic cyclone, roaring above the ruins like a god’s finger, plunged into the earth to erase the arrogance of mankind. [[Anomalies. Strange creatures. Impossible events. ->City7]]

Ezekiel shakes his head, voice ragged. (set: $TitanClue to true) “You wouldn’t understand…” “Then make us,” Pavel growls. The mage exhales, then finally speaks: “That was a psychic titan. Or… something close. I don’t even know for certain. But it sensed me. I felt something reach out from inside that machine and scrape at my thoughts, trying to pry its way into my mind. It took me precious seconds to fight it off… then I had to throw a veil over all of us, the empty mind, so nothing could sniff out our minds again.” [["Let us move. Before some other nightmare gets a taste of us." ->City5]] [["A machine that can read minds? And strike at them?" ->TitanClue1]] [["Did you use magic just now?" ->TitanClue2]]

A thought grips you. Or rather, an impression. The Dark Wanderer was here. He might have stood on this very ground, gazing upon the storm of magic still thrashing at the city’s heart. The sickness he carries could only be born in a place like this. A place that should not exist, yet does. The birthplace of the end. {(if: $Life is true) [A beautiful chaos. You could stay here forever, just to witness it. Nothing greater will ever meet your eyes. [[And it seems like any choices don't matter anymore. ->City8]]]}{(if: $Revenge is true) [You are walking his path. Step for step. Maybe that mad recruiter was right, maybe fate can’t be outrun. [[Feels like nothing is mine to decide anymore. Something unseen is leading me by the hand. ->City8]]]} {(if: $Legend is true) [Fear, for the first time on the road. You wanted to become someone. To win glory. To earn recognition. But standing here, looking at this… it feels like soon nothing will matter. [[Can anyone call themselves great, after gazing at this? ->City8]]]}

You wrench your eyes away from the storm twisting above the city and press on. The path to the fortress proves less difficult than you feared, though no less harrowing. Shadows flit at the corners of ruined streets. Somewhere, behind broken windows, the sound of a child crying cuts through the silence. At one intersection, you stumble on a tavern. Intact. Out of place, like it had been plucked from another century and planted here by the whim of capricious gods. Clay walls, crooked timber beams, clouded glass, and a wooden sign swinging above the door: Dancing Barrels. A slice of the past, completely untouched by the surrounding madness. Lights shine in the windows, and music, voices, and laughter can be heard from inside. Mercury, curious as a cat, takes a step too close to the entrance, nose practically pressed to the wood, before Ezekiel’s barked order cuts through the comms, freezing her in her tracks. Somehow, even cloaked, he still saw her. [[//Just a little farther// ->Citadel]]

You’ve got several grenades, and you can hurl them far and true. But where? [[At the Watchers ->GranadeDeath]] [[To the sides, kick up clouds of dust ->GranadeSide]] [[At the ceiling ->GranadeClean]]

You line up the last Watcher and empty the magazine into it. The first shot cracks against its barrier, lightning crawling across the surface in a spider’s web of blue. The construct turns, fixing its burning gaze on you. The second and third punch through, the shield bursts like a soap bubble, then its eye flares. Your weapon is ripped from your hands and you’re hurled backward, slammed spine-first into a column. Bone crunches, your head whiplashes, and the world swims. You hang against the stone as though chained there by invisible wires. That blazing eye centers on you, and you feel your body start to fold in on itself. It’s crushing you alive. A thunderclap, something tears through its side. A fist-sized hole blooms in its torso. The Watcher jerks, turning away, and the invisible grip snaps. You hit the floor hard, gasping. Its shield begins to form again, sparks crawling over its damaged body. But too slow. A burst from Pavel’s rifle rips into its chest, and Mercury’s heavy shot follows, taking its head clean off. The body crashes down in a heap of metal and tattered rags. [["That’s what you get, you bastard!.." ->WoundedGoodEnd]]

You shout, your words breaking the spell, snapping your comrades back to motion. The nearest Watcher’s crystal eye flares, and you hurl yourself behind a toppled column. Where you stood an instant before, stone and bone collapse into fine dust, crushed beneath a colossal unseen pressure. Another blast detonates where Mercury had been, but she rolls clear, her outline shimmering back into sight. Gunfire erupts. The second android drops its cargo and, together with Pavel, opens fire, but their bullets get caught by the invisible shields of constructs, never touching their marks. [[Return fire ->Shoot]] [[Use a stim ->Stim]]

“Why do you say that?” the girl smiles, innocent and sharp. “There’s something random and mad about you,” you answer, appraising her. “Oh, don’t flatter me,” the sniper laughs. “I’m normal. Well... almost. Sometimes I see things, or dream of stuff, that is going to happen.” [["Right… Okay. I still have to check our transport." ->ToCar]] [["Tell me about the Forbidden Lands." ->LandsTalk]]

You go on, passing halls hung with ancient knightly and arcane orders’ crests above their doorways, descending deeper into the catacombs. Ezekiel pays them no mind{(if: $MercuryIsDead is false)[, and when Mercury suggests checking a few halls for treasure or untouched graves, he cuts her off, urging haste]}. “The sooner we find what we came for, the better. Don’t linger here: the dead are not very fond of the living,” he says as you come across desiccated remains in protective suits not unlike your own. On one corpse you notice a peculiar pair of goggles, very similar to Mercury’s. {(if: $MercuryIsDead is true)[[On into the dark ->Crypt2.5]]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [[On into the dark ->Crypt2.5]]} {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [[Catch Mercury’s attention ->MyBrother]]}

Corridors and staircases lead you further down until you reach a dead end: a passage sealed by a monumental stone door. Your lights pick out strange reliefs: two dragons bowing their heads carved across the face of the stone. Above the ancient, long-extincted beasts, a thin crescent moon is depicted, wreathed in tongues of flame. “At last...” the mage exhales, freezing in place to study the gates. “Is this the crypt?” Pavel asks. “We’ll see,” Ezekiel drops to his knees again and rubs at the dust on the floor. Under the grime a delicate pattern appears, forming letters. “Here rests the Second of the Firsts. First of the Masters,” he reads, then lets out a small, satisfied chuckle. “Yes! By the heavens, we found it! The tomb’s sealed, if anyone was here before us, they failed to open it.” [["So what now?" ->Crypt3]]

“Heh, next...” he takes the long case off his back and opens it. “I’ll break the barriers that protect this place. {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false)[You two, stand watch.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true)[$Name, stand watch.]} Pavel, prepare the charges.” The lizard immediately rummages in the explosives crate, pulling out rectangular blocks of explosive, wires and a detonator. Meanwhile the paragonian takes three odd tripod-like devices from his case. Instead of cameras, he mounts large pyramidal crystals on their heads. He fiddles levers and positions the tripods in a semicircle facing the gate. [[Watch silently ->Crypt4]] [["Magic again? You sure this won’t blow us apart?" ->Crypt3.1]]

“Pray it doesn’t,” Ezekiel snaps at you in a rough tone. “It’s the only way in. Those devices will clear the magic field for ten meters around, let me cast without immediate risk, and weaken the runes carved in the stone so I can unweave the warding. Ancient wizards were not as thin-blooded as modern ones. They worked thoroughly. All these explosives won't even scratch this door as long as the spells hold.” [[Almost there ->Crypt4]]

The mage draws a piece of chalk and begins to trace sigils on the floor around the tripods, then steps behind them and folds his fingers into a strange sign. The crystals on the contraptions flare with a steady blue light. Lightning skitters across them. And soon, three beams of light lance out and strike the stone door — one into each dragon, the third into the flaming crescent. You hold your breath. For a few seconds nothing happens. Then, glyphs you hadn’t noticed before ignite across the gate’s surface. They glow brighter and a low, prolonged hum fills the chamber. Sparks run wilder across the mage’s devices and his body. Ezekiel snaps his fingers apart. The runes flare brighter for a moment, before erupting in strands of blue sparks. The crystals flare like tiny suns in the subterranean dark and then explode into melted shards with a loud screech. [["Goddamn it! Nothing worked?" ->Crypt5]]

“Ha! On the contrary, my dear friends!” Ezekiel says, pleased with himself, then leans back against the wall, breathing hard. “By the heavens, it worked. Though it was much harder than I expected… I need a moment to catch my breath. Pavel, plant the charges.” When the explosives are stuck to the stone gate and the squad takes cover around the corner, Pavel presses the detonator button. A crash of blast and a tongue of flame! Shards fly outward and the corridor fills with a cloud of stone dust. [[Passage clear ->Crypt6]]

Passing through the dust cloud and the breach the blast made in the gate, you enter a roomy chamber. In the center, on a stone dais, sits a single sarcophagus. Unlike the hundreds you passed on the way here, this one bears no carvings, no gilded trim, no ornamentation at all. It looks almost humble, certainly not the tomb of a mighty Overlord. What marks it out is something else entirely. Looming behind the sarcophagus, pressed against the far wall, towers a colossal statue of gray stone, trimmed with tarnished gold and silver. A majestic knight in ornate, rune-etched armor, every inch of his plates covered with scripts and sigils. His face is hidden beneath a horned helm set with a great sapphire on the visor, and behind him spills a cloak that seems to ripple in a wind that does not exist. Blue light streams from the gem in his helm, falling in a single ray upon the plain sarcophagus. In his left hand the knight-mage grips the haft of an immense scythe. In his right, a weighty tome. The resemblance is impossible to miss: he looks unnervingly like the Watchers you fought before. Or perhaps they were shaped in his image. Stranger still is the state of the crypt: not a speck of dust, not a strand of cobweb. Even the air feels fresh, as if ventilated. “Magnificent,” Ezekiel says, surveying the crypt. “Too modest,”{(if: $MercuryIsDead is false)[ Mercury remarks. “Where are the mountains of gold and artifacts? Where are the treasures?”]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true)[ Pavel notes. “I expected more... Swag...”]} “The greatest treasure,” the mage says and wags a finger, “Is not gold or gems, but what lies inside the sarcophagus. But first we must be sure there are no traps, or hidden curses. There’s no risk to using magic here — this place is strangely free of contamination. Step back.” He pulls the chalk from his pocket and begins to draw some complicated polyhedral figure on the floor. [[Wait -> End]] {(if: $NotTime is true) [[Deface the magical drawing -> Ruin]]}

“Caution is a great virtue,” Ezekiel praises your thought. “That tomb is more than nine centuries old. Any mechanical traps or guardians set there will long since have rusted to dust. Magic, however… is not so easily eroded by time. But to handle that, you have me.” The mage spreads his arms theatrically, a smug smile tugging at his lips. “As well as my experience with tombs such as this, and the proper technomagical instruments for the task,” he adds cryptically. “Which is why I rate our chances of success very highly.” [[“If you //are// right, and we //do //find what you’re looking for.” ->If]] [[“This sure as hell won’t be a stroll in the park. How do you weigh the risks, and how much are you willing to pay?” ->Pay]]

You burst from cover and sprint forward, weaving between shattered columns. You’re running faster than you ever thought possible. One of the Watchers locks onto you. A telekinetic strike smashes the floor where you were a heartbeat ago, stone and bone exploding in a spray that stings your back as you dash past. [[Fire on the run ->StimShootRun]] [[Throw a grenade ->StimTrickGranade]]

A precise shot bores through the Watcher’s eye, the glow dying as its head snaps back. One is down. But the other has already reduced your last android to a bloody smear on the floor. A mass of stone and bone rises from the ground and explodes outward, shredding the column that shielded Pavel. And still Ezekiel stands in the open, frozen as if the entire battle doesn’t exist, making no move to protect himself. [[Keep firing ->ContinueShoot]] [[Take cover and try to snap Ezekiel out of it ->StimHide1]]

You are seized by an invisible force and lifted into the air. A wave of pain ripples through your body. “Do not mistake me for a monster, $Name. I take no pleasure in what I’m about to do," the paragonian deigns to respond. "But there is no other choice. The mage entombed here will not merely bring order to these ravaged lands, he will bring judgement on all those fools, who were guilty of the Empire’s fall. You're not to blame for anything, it just so happened that you became my escort." Ezekiel waves his free hand. “As they say, the game was rigged from the start.” The chalked circles on the floor flare with turquoise flames. The fire is far below, yet it feels as if you’ve been plunged into boiling oil. You’d scream, but your throat is locked, your jaw opens soundlessly. "I will try not to torment you," Ezekiel's voice comes through the haze of pain. "{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [Though with only two victims at hand, that will be difficult.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [But I can make no promises.]}" {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [All three of the mage's captives: you, Pavel and Mercury, are floated closer to the open sarcophagus, and the bones inside begin to burn.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [You’re hauled closer to the coffin, facing Pavel across its edge. The bones inside ignite with blue fire.]} [["Bastard!" ->Finale]]

“If you two lovebirds are finished,” Pavel growls as he strides up, “We’ve got a mission to run.” “Yes, we are,” Ezekiel answers smoothly, unfazed. “We may depart.” [[“Let’s go.” ->IntoCar]] [[“Wait. What’s in the rest of those crates?” ->Cargo]]

So, I once knew this doctor. Claimed he could heal any wound with simple herbs — stuff you’d find in any kitchen... [["He stuffed thyme into the wound..." ->DocThymeAnekdote]] [["He soaked moss in cheap vodka..." ->DocVodkaAnekdote]]

So, I once knew this doctor. Claimed he could heal any wound with simple herbs — stuff you’d find in any kitchen. A merc came in with a bullet wound. The doc stuffed thyme into it and called it ‘battle seasoning’... [["Delicious..." ->DocThymeChickenAnekdote]] [["Said, ‘The key is in the aroma’...”->DocThymeAromaAnekdote]]

So, I once knew this doctor. Claimed he could heal any wound with simple herbs — stuff you’d find in any kitchen. A merc came in with a bullet wound. The doc stuffed thyme into it and called it ‘battle seasoning’. Said, ‘The key is in the aroma’. Let’s just say… the funeral was very //tasteful//. “Not bad, not bad,” Mercury grins. “Self-proclaimed healers, they’re all like that.” [["Hold on, I’ve got another one..." ->TellAnekdote]] [["I told mine, now it’s Pavel’s turn." ->AnekdoteEnd]]

So, I once knew this doctor. Claimed he could heal any wound with simple herbs — stuff you’d find in any kitchen. A merc came in with a bullet wound. The doc stuffed thyme into it and called it ‘battle seasoning’. Smelled delicious… but the guy bled out like a stuffed chicken.” “Heh,” Pavel snorts. “Stupid, but funny.” [["Alright, alright. Let me tell another one..." ->TellAnekdote]] [["Your turn, captain." ->AnekdoteEnd]]

“They too were… people once, weren’t they?” you ask. Ezekiel glances at the droids and waves a dismissive hand. “Yes. But what matters is that they obey instantly, they’re more meat than metal, and they don’t need magi-fuel or energy crystals to keep running.” [[“Feels like they’re watching us.” ->Droids1]] [[“Alright, about the car…” ->WhatCar]]

“Of course they’re watching,” the mage answers, faintly surprised. “They’re security droids. Watching and guarding is their job.” “No,” you shake your head. “Not just watching. It feels deliberate. Don’t you think there’s still someone in there, deep down?” “Listen, $Name, I have no time or patience for stories about ghosts in the machine. Let’s get back to the transport. Your verdict?” [[Honest: “Vintage, but in a surpisingly good shape. You don’t see many of these on the road anymore.” ->GoodCar]] [[Talking yourself up: “Pathetic heap. I’ve seen meth-heads who looked sturdier and more cheerful than this wreck.” ->BadCar]]

{(if: $NotTime is true) ["Sorry. No idea what came over me," you shake your head, pushing the pain aside. You’re here, and there’s no walking away. Better to find a path, than thrash like a fly in a web. The spider’s close, and it’s watching.]} "All right," the mage nods, his eyes lingering on you. {(if: $NotTime is true) [You force the thoughts down and look back at him blankly, as if nothing happened.]} "We need to find the way down into the catacombs. Our drones died a soldier’s death, which means we’ll have to do the searching ourselves. {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false)[Mercury, lead the way.]}” {(if: $MercuryIsDead is true)[He takes the lead himself, eyes scanning for a passage downward. You fall into step beside him.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is false)[The girl nods and pushes ahead, and once again you find yourself walking beside the mage.]} Pavel follows a few steps behind, explosives in tow. [["I really don’t like where this is going…" ->Dungeon1]]

You’ve no idea how long your shrunken band of puppet-master and marionettes has wandered the endless corridors. An hour? Three? The place is a maze of halls, stairwells, and side passages. Several times the headaches returned, the ringing in your ears pulsing sharper with every step. Once, you nearly stumbled into another Watcher, only the faint glimmer of its eye in the distance gave you warning. You killed the lights and pressed into a narrow alcove, holding your breath until it passed. The things stalk the tunnels, certainly hunting for tresspassers.{(if: $NotTime is true) [But you know for certain they won’t find you. The mage has made sure of that. He only pretends to share the others’ fear and nerves.]} By the time your legs tremble from exhaustion and your eyes ache from the unbroken gloom, you finally reach a massive stone archway, flanked by statues of skeletal knights in armor, perfectly preserved. "This is it?" Pavel asks, suspicion plain in his voice. Even his nerves are beginning to fray, every stray sound sending his hand darting for his weapon. "I think so," Ezekiel answers with satisfaction. He drops to one knee, brushing dust and grime from a small plaque at the arch’s base. "//Adorash Madred, te aniash deredunt, esh intrad.// Bow before the dead who gave their lives for you, and enter. The tombs of the Overlords’ knights. Our goal is somewhere inside; we only need to find the right crypt." The mage turns to you. "We stay together. This place may still be home to spirits and the restless dead. And take a mage’s word for it — they are far worse than any golem." [["Got it." -> Crypt]]

This story cannot end here. (live: 3s)[(go-to: "END1")]

This story cannot end here. This is not your destiny. (live: 3s)[(go-to: "END2")]

This story cannot end here. This is not your destiny. This is not the path you can take. (live: 3s)[(go-to: "END3")]

This story cannot end here. This is not your destiny. This is not the path you can take. And this is not the path you want to take. (live: 3s)[(go-to: "END4")]

This story cannot end here. This is not your destiny. This is not the path you can take. And this is not the path you want to take. Your fate is sealed. And there is no breaking it. (live: 4s)[(go-to: "Intro")]

“What did you expect?" Vincent’s tone grows indifferent. He seems to have lost his interest in you. "In this case I am your employer and I set the terms. And yes, it’s only one mutant, so the reward is even slightly inflated. So, $Name, are you interested? If not, then be on your way.” [[“One mutant is not a pack of Forbidden Lands beasts. I’ll take it.” ->WorkNoNoNo]] [[“Fuck it! better the Forbidden Lands. Where do I find this Paragon guy?” ->WorkAccept]]

You've decided to defy fate. Few can boast that they've succeeded in doing so. And now your future is entirely in your hands. Will you survive, find the Wanderer, and succeed in the mercenary craft? That's a whole other story. [[Although, who are you trying to fool?->END]]

“I'm merely doing what I came here for,” replies the mage, proudly lifting his chin. “I'm sorry, but I don't want to waste time monologuing to a sacrificial lamb when I'm so close to the goal.” [["Wait! " ->DeadEnd]] [["Why all this?" ->DeadEnd]]

{(if: $Body is true) [You snatch the bone blade from your belt and leap at the calmly standing wizard, aiming to cleave him in two with one clean strike. The blade stops half a meter from him. Your arms won’t obey, you can’t take another step. Your fingers unclench and the sword clatters to the floor.}{(if: $Body is false) [You draw your pistol and point it at the wizard's head. But your fingers won't obey: no matter how hard you try, you cannot pull the trigger. Your arm goes numb.]} "Fool," Ezekiel sighs. He flicks his free hand and an invisible fist slams into your chest, tossing you up into the air where a telekinetic grip squeezes you, knocking the breath out of your lungs. "You signed a magical contract with me, boy. No matter how hard you try, you cannot harm me until the task is done." [["Why?.." ->End1.2.1]] [["For what?.. " ->End1.2.2]]

All you can force out is a single word. “Because I have no obligations to you according to the contract,” the mage utters a semblance of a laugh. “You are obliged to protect me, but I owe you nothing... Ah, or are you talking about the whole situation?” Ezekiel glances around. "I'm simply doing what I came here to do," he tells himself, lifting his chin with pride. "Forgive me, but I haven't time for speeches in front of a sacrificial lamb, when I’m this close to the goal.” Pain rolls through you in waves. The chalked circles on the floor flare with turquoise flames. The fire is far below, yet it feels as if you’ve been plunged into boiling oil. You’d scream, but your throat is locked, your jaw opens soundlessly. "I will try not to torment you," Ezekiel's voice comes through the haze of pain. "{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [Though with only two victims at hand, that will be difficult.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [But I can make no promises.]}" {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [All three of the mage's captives: you, Pavel and Mercury, are floated closer to the open sarcophagus, and the bones inside begin to burn.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [You’re hauled closer to the coffin, facing Pavel across its edge. The bones inside ignite with blue fire.]} [["Bastard!" ->Finale]]

All you can force out are those two words. "I'm simply doing what I came here to do," the mage answers, lifting his chin with pride. "Forgive me, but I haven't time for speeches in front of a sacrificial lamb, when I’m this close to the goal.” Pain rolls through you in waves. The chalked circles on the floor flare with turquoise flames. The fire is far below, yet it feels as if you’ve been plunged into boiling oil. You’d scream, but your throat is locked, your jaw opens soundlessly. "I will try not to torment you," Ezekiel's voice comes through the haze of pain. "{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [Though with only two victims at hand, that will be difficult.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [But I can make no promises.]}" {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [All three of the mage's captives: you, Pavel and Mercury, are floated closer to the open sarcophagus, and the bones inside begin to burn.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [You’re hauled closer to the coffin, facing Pavel across its edge. The bones inside ignite with blue fire.]} [["Bastard!" ->Finale]]

You don’t know how much time has passed. Your head hums like a cathedral bell, your throat is dry as a desert, and your whole body aches as if a herd of wild boars trampled you. With effort, you force your eyes open. {(if: $Eyes is true) [Darkness everywhere, the stench of burnt flesh and dust. Your flashlight died long ago, but it doesn’t matter. Your eyes still see. Shapes emerge: the hall, battered by the ritual’s aftermath, and the once-majestic statue now lying shattered on the floor where Ezekiel once stood.]} {(if: $Body is true or $Mind is true) [Darkness everywhere, the stench of burnt flesh and dust. Your flashlight died long ago. You can’t see a thing.]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [Oh, the irony. It seems the mage was killed by the one he was trying to bring back to life. Even if not directly.]} And silence. You’re the only one left alive of this entire damned expedition. You try to move, to rise from the cold floor littered with shards, when the impenetrable darkness suddenly recoils. From the cracked sarcophagus a dim blue light begins to pour. Its glow fades slightly, and out of it bursts a ghostly human shape, landing in a crouch on the statue’s rubble. “Who do we have here?” a distant, echo-splintered, bored voice drifts into your ears. “The sleeping princess has finally awakened… Be so kind, mortal, and answer me… For what purpose have I been summoned back into this world?” [[Is this the End? ->Score]]

“I bind you by your names!” the mage keeps chanting, oblivious to your struggling. “Hear them, answer true! Lord of Flame, Lord of Sunset, Grey Terror, Vilad, I cry! Come forth and claim again the life that will not die!” {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [Again a scream, this time from Pavel, devoured by the unnatural fire. His soul tears free and joins the shimmering cluster above the sarcophagus.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [Your clothes begin to smoulder. You’re next. Your soul will feed the rebirth of an Overlord.]} “For you are blood of this world’s blood. Lord of Irithyl, defender ironclad!” {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [Your clothes begin to smoulder. You’re next. Your soul will feed the summoning of the Lord.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [There is no guilt on you for this injustice. Yet you might have avoided this end.]} {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [There is no guilt on you for this injustice. Yet you might have avoided this end.]} {(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [[Do you wish to try another path? ->Intro]]} {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [[Do you wish to try another path? ->Intro]]}

“Hear them, answer true! Lord of Flame, Lord of Sunset, Grey Terror, Vilad, I cry! Come forth and claim again the life that will not die!” Your clothes begin to smoulder. You’re next. Your soul will feed the rebirth of an Overlord. “For you are blood of this world’s blood. Lord of Irithyl, defender ironclad!” There is no guilt on you for this injustice. Yet you might have avoided this end. [[Do you wish to try another path? ->Intro]]

{(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [Again a scream, this time from Pavel, devoured by the unnatural fire. His soul tears free and joins the shimmering cluster above the sarcophagus.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [Your clothes begin to smoulder. You’re next. Your soul will feed the rebirth of an Overlord.]} “For you are blood of this world’s blood. Lord of Irithyl, defender ironclad!” {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [Your clothes begin to smoulder. You’re next. Your soul will feed the summoning of the Lord.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [There is no guilt on you for this injustice. Yet you might have avoided this end.]} {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [There is no guilt on you for this injustice. Yet you might have avoided this end.]} {(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [[Do you wish to try another path? ->Intro]]} {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [[Do you wish to try another path? ->Intro]]}

There's no taste, and your mouth starts to burn like you're drinking gasoline. As you swallow the disgusting stuff, you feel a wave of heat run through your body. Your limbs fill with energy, and your thoughts fly three times faster. Fatigue recedes, and you are ready for new endeavors. "Oh, this thing hits like a sledgehammer!" you exhale a cloud of green smoke. “Hell yeah it does," Big D grins wide. "Ain’t nobody ever left my bar disappointed. You want another, homie?”(set: $Energy to true) [["No, I’m here on business. Looking for work" -> BigD2]] [["So why Big D?" -> BigDName]]

You step through the breach, passing between the frozen legs of the titan that tore its way into the city. The machine whose crew lost their lives so that a hundred years later you could pass through here. And then you stop dead, staring. The graveyard of a city stretches for miles to the sea: thousands of homes and ruins. Streets littered with decayed corpses, bones, and building debris. Here and there rusted frames of tanks and cars. Yet all of it pales before the storm. A titanic whirlwind of air, debris, cars, buildings, and entire streets rises kilometers into the air, rushing toward the black sky, across which scarlet lightning flashes every few seconds. Huge rocks and layers of earth orbit in the air around it, torn from the base of the tornado, which is located in a giant flooded basin resembling a crater from a nuclear warhead explosion. And beyond, on the city’s far side, the silhouette of spires: an ancient citadel piercing the storm with gray fangs like broken tusks. “We make for that fortress,” Ezekiel’s calm, aristocratic voice cuts through the awe. “The Great Grey Academy. We take this street, skirting the mana-storm and the center.” [[Brace yourself ->City]]

“Rations, rounds, injector-serums, spare filters for the respirators, scanners, grenades… in short, the full gentleman’s kit for any self-respecting mercenary. I also have for you a full protective armored suit. Without it, you won’t last a minute in the Lost Capital: the emanations of magic alone will kill you. And…” Ezekiel’s gaze falls on your weapon. “Something more reliable, more lethal, to deal with obstacles along the way. {(if: $LostMachete is false) [That hunk of metal and gun of yours, older than the Empire itself, are only good for scaring stray dogs.]}{(if: $LostMachete is true) [That gun of yours, older than the Empire itself, is only good for scaring stray dogs.]}{(if: $LostMachete is true and $Body is true) [And yes, you’ll need a new weapon for close combat. Can’t have you going without one.]} So then? Do you believe you can handle the role I intend for you?” That was a lot to take in all at once. Your head is buzzing. Even with the vow of silence, it’s obvious the paragonian isn’t telling you everything. But his preparation is thorough: suits, scanners, combat androids, well-thought-out roles. It all sounds like he’s already accounted for everything. Everything except you. You might very well end up the weakest link of the chain. And while the success of the mage's mission may still be believable, your own survival remains highly questionable. A sudden spike of pain stabs your temples. [[//"I can’t refuse."// ->Yes]] [[I want to refuse. ->No]]

“New?” Ezekiel’s lips purse with irritation. “I don’t need a //new// driver. I need the driver //I hired//. The one promised to me by //my //recruiter!” “I’m his replacement. If you’ll hire me,” you answer evenly. “Replacement?” his voice trembles with indignation. He swings toward Vincent. “Vincent! What is this outrage? This is not what we agreed on!” [["Vincent’s not to blame. Your driver took himself straight to the afterlife." ->Ezekiel1.1]]

“And what, precisely, happened to him?” the mage presses, calming a little. “I’m afraid he blew his brains out. By now, his corpse is already cooling in the dumpster.” “Devils! How could this happen?” [["Short version: he was unlucky in adrossian roulette." ->Ezekiel1.2]] [["Does it matter? His replacement is here already. Assuming your terms suit me.” ->Ezekiel1.3]]

“Adrossian… what?” the mage squints. “A game for lunatics,” you explain. “Spin the chamber, say a prayer, and if fortune smiles, you live another round.” “Utter imbecile!” the paragonian hisses, furious. “I ordered him to spend the money on preparation, not to gamble it away! Along with his squandered, pitiful life! And this… this dolt I entrusted with our transport?” “Exactly. And he’s crossed himself off the roster of mission participants.” The mage looks ready to explode, but reins himself in with sudden effort. “How did it happen, young man?” his tone shifts, oddly courteous now. “His irresponsibility does not excuse the loss of my money. He had no right to gamble it, let alone lose it.” [["You’d better ask those fellows at the round table. He played with them." ->EzekielKills]] [["Before that, shouldn’t we discuss the terms of our partnership?" ->Ezekiel1.3]]

“And what makes you think I would hire the likes of…” Ezekiel’s eyes sweep over you, and his mouth twists in disgust. “Forgive me, but an arrogant, shameless drifter. {(if: $Wounded is true) [And clearly wounded, at that. You look as though a pack of wild dogs had their fun with you. ]}And if you know where I intend to go, and still agreed to involve yourself, then your intelligence also does not impress me.” “According to the recruiter, I match your requirements. So don’t hold my young face against me. {(if: $Mind is true) [I can drive, I can fix, I can fight.]}{(if: $Body is true) [I’m no worse behind the wheel or under the hood, and when it comes to strength or close combat, I’ll give that brute a run for his money.]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [Maybe I’m not as bulky as him, but I shoot straight. Driving, repairs, I can handle both.]} If I were any less, Vincent wouldn’t have sent me to you.” [["And yes: I’ve got more brains than your last hire. At least mine are still inside my skull, and I don’t intend to smear them on the walls." ->Ezekiel3]]

“I didn’t ask for your name,” Ezekiel snaps, his lips tightening again. “I asked where my mercenary is! The professional I hired! Where is he!? He couldn’t have just run off!” [["Your so called //professional// blew his brains out with a revolver. I’d say that’s not very professional." ->Ezekiel2.1]] [["He didn’t run. Short version: he got very unlucky in a game of adrossian roulette." ->Ezekiel1.2]]

“Are you mocking me?” the Paragonian pales visibly. “Wouldn’t dream of it. There, blood and brains on the floor,” you point to the stains beside the table, where four bounty hunters still sit. “So, in your place, I’d be considering a new hire.” “And what makes you think I would hire the likes of…” Ezekiel’s eyes sweep over you, and his mouth twists in disgust. “Forgive me, but an arrogant, shameless drifter. {(if: $Wounded is true) [And clearly wounded, at that. You look as though a pack of wild dogs had their fun with you. ]}And if you know where I intend to go, and still agreed to involve yourself, then your intelligence also does not impress me.” [["First and foremost: I have more brains than the mercenary you hired before me." ->Ezekiel2.1.3]]

“They’re still right here,” you add calmly, pointing at your head. “And I’ve no plans to paint the walls with them.” “Fair enough,” Ezekiel nods curtly. “Then the only question is — are you qualified?” “According to the recruiter, I match your requirements. So don’t hold my young face against me. {(if: $Mind is true) [I can drive, I can wrench, and I’ve seen combat.]}{(if: $Body is true) [I’m no worse behind the wheel or under the hood, and when it comes to strength or close combat, I’ll give that brute a run for his money.]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [Maybe I’m not as bulky as him, but I shoot straight. Driving, repairs, I can handle both.]} If I were any less, Vincent wouldn’t have sent me to you.” [["I’ve introduced myself. Your turn now." ->Ezekiel4]]

“Once more, your name?” the mage asks with a nod. “$Name. Just $Name.” “Very well, $Name. Money’s become a small problem for me, as you might imagine.” Ezekiel shrugs with a feigned air of dignity. “Recover what I so foolishly wasted on my previous driver. His gear as well. Then we’ll continue this talk in a more businesslike tone.” [["You want me to kill those mercs? In a bar run by the Black Vanguard?” ->ShouldI]] [["Just because you hired an idiot doesn’t mean I’m here to fix his mistakes. Or yours." ->WhyWouldI]]

{(if: $PavelGood is >= 2)["Ezekiel did it," Pavel answers. "And now he’s barely standing… magic, damn it."]}{(if: $PavelGood is <= 1)["That was me," Ezekiel replies flatly. "I had to risk casting. Otherwise, none of us would be standing here."]} “You… and them…” you mutter. “Both used magic. And yet I don’t see anyone exploding into pieces like you claimed would happen.” “I risked my life when I used it,” the mage snaps back. “A risk //you// forced me to take, $Name, by going to sleep in the first seconds of the battle. And I swear to the heavens, I have no idea how they were able to do what they did. This is the Lost Capital: here, even rivers can run uphill.” The headache claws back behind your eyes, your temples pounding. You’re sick of it—sick of this cursed city and these damned Forbidden Lands. [["Gods, I’m so tired..." ->WorstEnd2]] [["I’m sorry..." ->WorstEnd2]] {(if: $Mind is true or $TitanClue is true)[["You’re lying." ->MaybeEnd]]}

{(if: $TitanClue is true)[“When we fled that titan, you said you risked your life casting even the simplest spell. And these things… whatever they are… they were flinging magic around like it was cheap confetti.” “I have no idea how they managed it,” Ezekiel spreads his hands. “Even how those machines kept functioning here for more than a century, I can’t even imagine. That should be scientifically impossible.”]}{(if: $TitanClue is false)[“You said magic couldn’t be used inside the Forbidden City.” “It can,” the mage waves the thought aside. “What I said was that it’s dangerous and deadly. I have no idea how and why those machines managed it. The Forbidden Lands don’t obey the laws we know. Here, anything is possible.”]} His eyes sweep over the ruin the Watchers left behind. “Ezekiel’s right,” Pavel cuts in. “If these two found us, more will follow. We shouldn’t waste time.” (set: $EzekielLie1 to true) [["Fine. Let’s move." ->BetterEnd]] {(if: $EzekielLie2 is false)[["But before we go, I still want to know, how did you survive?"->How]]}{(if: $EzekielLie2 is true and $Mind is true or $TitanClue is true)[["You're not telling us everything. I want the truth."->TrueEnd]]}

“So why exactly do you need to get into the Forbidden Lands?” you ask. “Why should I tell you everything?” the mage smirks. “I haven’t even decided if I’ll hire you.” “Well, it’s not like you have a choice,” you shrug. “Vincent said you’ve been stuck in Lunard for weeks.” “We’ve been buying supplies and equipment for this trip. That doesn’t happen overnight,” Ezekiel waves it off. “And there’s always a choice.” “At least tell me about payment,” you insist. “This isn’t a stroll in the park, it’s the Forbidden Lands. I want to know I’m not risking my life for nothing.” “Trust me, young man, you’ll be well paid. I’ve spent twelve years planning this expedition. If it succeeds, I’ll bathe in glory, and you’ll bathe in credits.” [["Intriguing." ->PlayersOutside]]

“That cowboy over there, the one with the hat. He’s got your merc’s cleaver on his belt,” you point out. “Appreciated,” Ezekiel nods, then turns on his heel and strides toward the gamblers. You follow a few paces behind as he clears his throat, loudly enough to grab their attention. “Gentlemen. A moment of your time, if you please,” he begins in an almost pleasant tone. “What d’you want, bowl-cut?” the cowboy sneers, lighting a cigar. His other hand rests casually on his belt, fingers brushing the stolen cleaver. Across from him, another man spins the revolver’s cylinder, presses the barrel to his temple, and... Сlick. Empty. He sets it back on the table, beside the half-drained bottles of rotgut. The players take wooden cups in their hands, pour the dice into them, and begin to shake. {(if: $Mind is true) [You size them up instantly: armed to the teeth, strung tight as bowstrings — but more wary of each other than of you. Two of them, though, are signaling, subtle nods and tics. They’re playing as a pair.]} “I’d like you to return the belongings of my late employee. Eric, I believe his name was. Shot himself, right here, in your charming little game.” “How about you suck me off instead?” sneers the second gambler, half his forehead a gleaming steel plate. His lone eye never leaves his rivals, hand clenched on a sawed-off. A third, face hidden behind a gas mask, turns his head toward the mage. “Listen, preacher. Either sit down and win the gear back, or fuck off.” Ezekiel glances at you now, expectant, as though your silence isn’t an option. (set: $Ezekiel to true) [["Don’t recall you hiring me yet." ->EzekielWhat]] [[Tell them that the sorcerer who hired that bruiser will roast them alive if they refuse ->PlayersThreat]] {(if: $Mind is true) [[Call out the cheaters ->PlayersCheating]]}

“If you just stand there like a post, you’re not getting hired!” the paragonian hisses at you. “All right, all right…” [[Attempt to take stuff by force->PlayersAttack]] [[Tell them that the sorcerer who hired that bruiser will roast them alive if they refuse ->PlayersThreat]] {(if: $Mind is true) [[Call out the cheaters ->PlayersCheating]]}

“Indeed,” the mage nods. “My name is Ezekiel Stein, and as you’ve already heard, I’m assembling a team for an expedition into the Forbidden Lands.” “$Name,” you introduce yourself again. “And yeah, I’ve heard that already. How about some details?” “Oh, let’s not rush,” the paragonian smiles. “Before I share anything with you, I need a vow of silence.” “The hell is that supposed to mean?” you ask, frowning. “A trifle. Merely a small magical oath. A safeguard, so my plans don’t get compromised. Even if you walk away from this job, you won’t be able to blab about it,” he explains calmly. “It’s not a difficult spell. I only need a single strand of your hair and your spoken consent.” The first pitfalls of working for a Paragon mage begin to surface. {(if: $Vincent is true) [Awkward place to be. You already struck a deal with Vincent, and screwing over a Black Vanguard recruiter, dying or not, isn’t the brightest idea. Still, an oath can be broken, but a lost opportunity is harder to claw back.]} [[“What if I don't want to get involved with magic and shady vows?” ->WhatSilence]] [[“And if I agree, then spill anyway?” ->NotSilence]] [[“Alright, I am fine with this condition.” ->Silence]]

You veer sideways, trying to dive behind a heap of bones. A fraction too slow. A telekinetic strike catches you and slams you into the wall. A blow to the head on the stone sends you into the embrace of darkness. [["Fuck…" ->WorstEnd]]

A piercing lunge forward, and the bone sword falls just short of the Watcher's glowing crystal eye. A blinding flash, as an invisible battering ram slams you into the wall. A blow to the head on the stone sends you into the embrace of darkness. [["Fuck…" ->WorstEnd]]

You strain every muscle, every sinew, clenching your jaw until your teeth hurt, fighting the invisible grip. {(if: $Body is true) [But even your superhuman strength isn’t enough to tear the mage’s bonds. All you manage is a twitch of a leg and a flicker of a hand before the ties squeeze you harder. Your efforts are meaningless.]}{(if: $Body is false) [You’re weak, frail and tired. Agility and speed mean nothing now. Your body barely obeys.]} “I bind you by your names! Hear them, answer true!” the mage continues, reading the spell without even noticing your struggle. {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [Another scream, this time from Pavel, consumed by an unnatural flame. His soul joins the strange mass. ]}{(if: $Body is false) [You struggle in your bonds, trying to slip out of them. You manage to move your arm. You reach for your holster, only to grasp at emptiness. If Ezekiel hadn't taken your weapon, maybe you would have done something.]} [["No, no, no!!!"->EndFinalStruggle]]

You roll out from cover, spring to your feet, and open fire. {(if: $Mind is true) [The remaining Watcher turns on you instantly. The first bullet misses. The second and third — sparks and rattle of metal, the barrier collapses in a web of lightning. You lunge forward, still firing. The fourth shot punches through its shoulder.]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [The remaining Watcher wheels toward you, but too slowly. Two shots, its shield splinters, lightning crackles and dies out.]} {(if: $Eyes is true) [The telekinetic strike sails past you, pulverizing the wall behind into clouds of stone dust.The third shot tears through its shoulder. The fourth, and its eye bursts apart in a spray of crystal shards.]}{(if: $Mind is true) [A telekinetic blast smashes into you, hurling you five meters through the air. Your pistol spins out of reach. You try to rise, but your legs refuse. The Watcher’s sapphire eye fixes on you, the eye of a grim reaper.]} {(if: $Eyes is true) [From cover, Pavel leans out, his rifle barking in a savage burst that rips the ruined creature apart.]}(set: $PavelGood to it +1){(if: $Mind is true) [["Fuck…" ->MageEnd]]} {(if: $Eyes is true) [["Die, you son of a bitch!!!" ->BadEnd]]}

Ты не знаешь, сколько времени прошло. Голова гудит как церковный колокол, в глотке сухо как в пустыне, а всё тело болит, будто по нему пробежалось стадо диких кабанов. Ты с трудом раздираешь глаза. {(if: $Eyes is true) [Вокруг полная тьма и запах гари. Твой фонарик давно разрядился и потух. Но это не мешает видеть твоим глазам. Зрение вылавливает очертания окружения: зал, сильно потрёпанный последствиями ритуала, и некогда величественная статуя. Сейчас она лежит на полу, разбитая, в том месте где стоял Эзекиель.]}{(if: $Body is true or $Mind is true) [Вокруг полная тьма и запах гари. Твой фонарик давно разрядился и потух. Не видно ни черта.]} {(if: $Eyes is true) [Иронично. Кажется маг был убит тем, кого пытался вернуть к жизни. Пусть и не напрямую.]} {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [Ты слышишь дыхание. Выжил кто-то ещё. Ты вспоминаешь.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [А вокруг полная тишина. Ты единственный выживший из этой проклятой экспедиции.]} Ты пытаешься пошевелиться и встать с холодного, усыпанного осколками пола, как беспросветная темнота резко отступает. Из недр треснувшего саркофага начинает литься тусклое голубое свечение. Оно немного теряет в яркости, и наружу вылетает призрачная человеческая фигура, приземляющаяся на корточки на осколки статуи. "Кто это у нас тут?" слышится далёкий, расслаивающийся на эхо скучающий голос. Он звучит почти прямо у тебя в ушах. "Спящая принцесса наконец-то проснулась... Будь столь любезен, смертный, и ответь... Для чего я был вновь призван в этот мир?" [[Is this the End? ->Score]] You don’t know how much time has passed. Your head hums like a cathedral bell, your throat is dry as a desert, and your whole body aches as if a herd of wild boars trampled you. With effort, you force your eyes open. {(if: $Eyes is true) [Darkness everywhere, the stench of burnt flesh and dust. Your flashlight died long ago, but it doesn’t matter. Your eyes still see. Shapes emerge: the hall, battered by the ritual’s aftermath, and the once-majestic statue now lying shattered on the floor where Ezekiel once stood.]} {(if: $Body is true or $Mind is true) [Darkness everywhere, the stench of burnt flesh and dust. Your flashlight died long ago. You can’t see a thing.]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [Oh, the irony. It seems the mage was killed by the one he was trying to bring back to life. Even if not directly.]} {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [You hear breathing. Someone else survived. Memory rushes back to you: it must be Pavel.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [Silence. You’re the only one left alive of this entire damned expedition.]} You try to move, to rise from the cold floor littered with shards, when the impenetrable darkness suddenly recoils. From the cracked sarcophagus a dim blue light begins to pour. Its glow fades slightly, and out of it bursts a ghostly human shape, landing in a crouch on the statue’s rubble. “Who do we have here?” a distant, echo-splintered, bored voice drifts into your ears. “The sleeping princess has finally awakened… Be so kind, mortal, and answer me… For what purpose have I been summoned back into this world?” [[Is this the End? ->Score]]

Ezekiel steps up to the sarcophagus, treading over the burning lines on the floor. "Look from the veil upon the world you left behind," he intones to the statue, spreading his arms wide. "Your hour’s run out, your home lie ash and wind. At dawn the south sends not a single word. At noon the east’s old cry is never heard. By night the west breathes silence, cold and pale. Only the north at dusk gives up its wailing tale." Whether it's the lack of air, or the mage reaching toward forces no mortal should touch, the eye in the statue ignites turquoise and a faint, distant chorus of whispering voices fills your ears. "To the northern star, return, alive, arise! To the soul beacon I will kindle in the skies," the magician's voice climbs to a shout. "Flame of souls that gives you sight, and clothes you in flesh and blood!" A terrible, unhuman scream rings through the hall, a death wail no human throat could make. {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [You force your head around and see Mercury being engulfed in turquoise flame. She does not burn. Insted, her clothes, then skin, then flesh and bone crumble away from feet and hands upward into dust. Her scream roars in your ears, but the mage continues the ritual, deaf to her agony.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [You force your head around and see Pavel being engulfed in turquoise flame. He does not burn. Insted, his clothing, then scales, then flesh and bone crumble away from feet and hands upward into dust. His terrible cry fills your ears, but the mage keeps working, unmoved by the victim's suffering.]} The soul is torn free from the crumbling body and hangs above the sarcophagus as a shimmering knot of light. [["No! I'm not going to die here!"->Finale1]] [[Surrender ->EndFinal]]

You strain every muscle, every sinew, clenching your jaw until your teeth hurt, fighting the invisible grip. {(if: $Body is true) [But even your superhuman strength isn’t enough to tear the mage’s bonds. All you manage is a twitch of a leg and a flicker of a hand before the ties squeeze you harder. Your efforts are meaningless.]}{(if: $Body is false) [You’re weak, frail and tired. Agility and speed mean nothing now. Your body barely obeys.]} “I bind you by your names!” the mage continues, reading the spell without even noticing your struggle. “Hear them, answer true! Lord of Flame, Lord of Sunset, Grey Terror, Vilad, I cry! Come forth and claim again the life that will not die!” {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [Again, screams, this time from Pavel, consumed by unnatural flames. His soul joins the strange mass.]} {(if: $Body is false) [You struggle in your bonds, trying to slip out of them. You manage to move your arm and leg. And you feel the last unbeaten card in your palm, your only chance: the gun. You're still clutching it in your hand. You struggle to aim the weapon, bending your wrist until your bones and joints crack. And aim.]}{(if: $Body is true) [["No, no, no!!!"->EndFinale1]]} {(if: $Body is false) [[Shoot the soul mass->FinaleSoul]]} {(if: $Body is false) [[Shoot the statue’s eye->FinaleEye]]}

The sorcerer chants the spell louder and louder, his voice echoing throughout the chamber. The walls begin to tremble, cracks crawl across them and dust falls from the ceiling. You fire. The recoil knocks the weapon from your weakened grip. The bullet leaves a trail of blue light in the air and strikes the crystal in the statue's helmet. A ringing sound echoes through the hall, like that of a broken wineglass. The soul-cluster at the room’s centre starts pulsing faster and faster, spitting jets of turquoise fire. The flames on the floor whip as though an invisible wind is trying to snuff them out. “What!?!” Ezekiel flings up his hands, drawing strange symbols in the air, trying to stabilize the ritual. Cracks split the crystal in the statue’s helm and spread through the stone. You feel the ritual begin to drain the life out of you when the damaged crystal shatters. [["I will survive!"->FinaleFinale]]

The last thing you hear before the blast flings you into the wall and darkness swallows you is Ezekiel’s scream of agony. The mage tasted the fate he had prepared for others. [[ ... ->FinalEnd?]]

The last thing you hear before the blast flings you into the wall and darkness swallows you is Ezekiel’s scream of agony. The mage tasted the fate he had prepared for others. [[ ... ->End?]]

The sorcerer chants the spell louder and louder, his voice echoing throughout the chamber. The walls begin to tremble, cracks crawl across them and dust falls from the ceiling. You fire. The recoil knocks the weapon from your weakening fingers. The bullet leaves a streak of blue light through the air, piercing the strange cluster in the room’s centre and punching a hole through it. A crystalline chime echoes, like a wineglass shattering. “No!!!” Ezekiel flings up his hands, drawing strange symbols in the air, trying to stabilise the ritual. The cluster pulses wildly, spitting jets of turquoise flame. Cracks crawl across the crystal in the statue’s helm and through the stone itself. You see the mage sink to his knees as though crushed by the power he tried to command. The turquoise fire rises higher and burns brighter. The hem of his robe ignites, the fire crawling across his whole body, turning the sorcerer to ash. “Curse you!!!” [["I will survive!"->FinaleFinale]]

“And my priority will be completing the mission,” you add. “Your own head?” Pavel snorts. “I doubt there’s anything in it besides ego.” He jabs a clawed finger into your forehead. [[You’re not taking that: throw a punch ->Punch]] [["If you want respect, try not being such an asshole first." ->PavelGrudge]]

“What?” Ezekiel looks up from inspecting the droids, distracted by hearing his name. “Ah, right. Even I’ll follow Pavel’s orders. He’s got two successful expeditions into the Forbidden Lands under his belt, one all the way to the Capital. He… had a rather unique career in the armed forces. I trust his judgment.” “Alright,” you nod, turning back to Pavel. “You’re the boss.” The lizard chuckles approvingly and takes a step back. “Maybe you’re not a complete idiot.”(set: $PavelGood to it +1) [["I hope so." ->Mercury2]] [["I did just agree to march into the Forbidden Lands, so that’s debatable." ->Mercury2]]

The explosion kills you instantly. The charges left no one alive. A loud, handsome death. Exactly what you wanted. Only utterly meaningless.

“So they told me true,” Ezekiel smiles, pleased. “But just in case: tools and a spare tire in the back.” “We won't need them,” you shake your head confidently. "We should get there without any problems, even if not quickly. This old girl doesn't have enough speed. Still, she'd better stay away from rough roads. Her suspension is original and pretty worn out, so if we hit a ditch, we won't be able to get out. And she's pulling a trailer too." “That’s why we have you,” Ezekiel nods. [[“Exactly. Not a world tour, just means we’ll have to choose our route carefully. If it stalls, I’ll get it running again.” ->Present]]

The pin clatters to the floor and the small ridged sphere arcs into flight. But it never hits the ground. The wounded creature manages to lift its head and snatch it midair with telekinesis. Only, it doesn’t have time to send the gift back. A blinding flash, an earth-shaking explosion! {(if: $Eyes is true) [Your ears are already completely fucked.]} The wounded Watcher collapses, a smoking heap of metal and rags. The second one’s shield holds. It wheels toward you, the halo at its back spinning at insane speed. Dozens of bullets stuck in its barrier start to vibrate, and the floor erupts: clouds of bones and stone fragments rising into the air. [[Empty the rest of your clip into the bastard ->GranadeShoot]] [[Take cover and reload ->Reload]]

You rip the bandolier of grenades from your chest, pull the pins, and hurl them upward in a wide arc. The explosion rips through the ceiling! A rain of stone crashes down, burying the Watchers. One manages to dart aside, but the other is crushed instantly beneath the avalanche, its barrier cannot withstand a weight of several tons. The survivor lashes out. A telekinetic wave tears apart the last drone, reducing it to a mangled heap of metal and gore, then whips toward you. You don’t even have time to sidestep. The air around your body constricts you like a boa, your lungs locking and your spine cracking under the pressure. The creature's blue eye is fixed on you. The blue eye of the grim reaper. You are is trapped in an invisible press. [[Try to break free ->BreakOut]]

You rip the bandolier of grenades from your chest, yank the pins, and hurl the whole bundle at the Watchers. They never touch the ground, caught in mid-air by unseen hands. They hang therefor a second, then rocket back at you like cannonballs. [[Explosion -> GameOver0]]

A huge leap to the side, behind the fallen column. A split second later, a loud hiss, followed by a WHUMP! Like thunder cracking inside the hall. The Watcher hurls its gathered storm. Bones, columns and walls, obliterated, like by a giant shotgun blast. Anything not buried in cover is torn to shreds across the chamber. A hail of stones and bones turned the droid into bloody scrap metal and grazed Pavel. Ezekiel, untouched, as if the storm curved around him, finally breaks his trance. His rune-etched pistol gleams in his hand. “Now or never.” You surge from the flank. The mage fires: each round trailing blue light, shredding the Watcher’s shield. You strike just as the barrier collapses. The blade blazes red, splitting the Watcher clean in half. Its two halves hang in the air for a heartbeat before crashing to the ground. [["Fuck… that was too close." ->BadEnd]]

You snap your pistol up and unload the last rounds into the Watcher. Crack and screech — its shield flashes with a web of lightning. The trapped bullets clatter to the floor. Ka-chink! The slide locks back. You pull the trigger again. Nothing: the magazine is empty. The creature’s eye blazes blue. Your weapon rips from your grip, and in the same instant you’re hurled backward, spine-first into a column. Your skull cracks against stone, ribs cracking, as your vision blurs. You dangle there, pinned by invisible chains, unable to move. That blazing sapphire eye fixes on you. Your body tightens: he’s about to crush you into a pulpy stain. WHAM! The Watcher jerks: in his side a gaping hole from a large-caliber shell. It twists away from you and you drop to the ground. A shield begins to form around it again. But not fast enough. A burst from Pavel’s rifle punches through its chest. A second shot from Mercury’s cannon takes its head clean off. The shredded carcass crashes to the floor. (set: $PavelGood to it +1) [["That’s what you get, you bastard!.." ->WoundedGoodEnd]]

Two grenades arc wide, detonating with twin thunderclaps. Smoke and bone dust flood the hall, and you’re already charging forward, plunging into the swirling haze. Your blade comes down in a savage swing, crashing against the nearest Watcher’s shield. The living weapon shrieks, as the barrier shudders. The construct can’t react in time, as your relentless blows rip its defense apart. Its crystal eye flares to life, locking on you. But you’re faster. Your lunging thrust sends the bone blade biting deep into the glowing crystal eye. The Watcher crumples like a broken marionette. A blast of psychic force rips through the haze, tossing you back. Dust scatters, revealing the last Watcher. The halo behind it spins madly, bullets trapped in its shield vibrating like angry hornets. All around, bones and rubble rise into the air. [["Take cover!!!" ->GranadeHide]] [["All together, finish it!!!" ->GranadeSlash]]

You lunge, red-lit sword biting into the barrier and sticking fast. The Watcher’s eye glares into yours. Gunfire rattles against its shield. Then Mercury’s rifle shot shatters the barrier with a blast, ield gone, freeing your blade. You throw yourself forward, weight and fury behind the thrust. The sword punches through the Watcher’s body. A psychic blast immidiently hurls you backward. You smash into a column, the blade clattering away. The Watcher stutters in the air, crystal flickering, chest sparking. It turns toward your allies, only to be torn apart by Pavel’s gunfire. The construct lets out a warped, dying wail and crashes to the ground. Its eye fades to darkness. [["Holy shit… that almost killed me." ->WoundedGoodEnd]]

With a trembling hand, you fumble out a grenade. Thumb pulls the pin. With every ounce of will, you draw your arm back to throw. “No!!!” Ezekiel’s voice shatters the hall. The grenade stops a few meters short of the so-called Watchers, freezing in midair, and then flies back toward you at cannonball speed. [[Explosion -> GameOver0]]

“Two out of five made it back,” Mercury shrugs. “They’re the ones who told me what happened. They almost reached their destination, some castle at the city center…” The moment she mentions this, Ezekiel folds up the map and starts listening intently. “They lost one along the way: idiot saw a pile of gold in some ruins and rushed straight for it. He got smeared across the walls by a collapsing anomaly. Lured in by a simple illusion. The second one was killed by a mutant. And the rest…” she pauses for a few seconds. “My brother led them into some creepy catacombs. They grabbed a bunch of loot and wanted to head back. But Leniard completely lost it by then. Askin, the one of the two survivors, said he flat-out refused to return until he found a Blessing. They almost came to blows. He went on ahead alone. They waited for hours, but when it started to feel like something was watching them, they got the hell out.” “Hm…” Ezekiel rubs his chin thoughtfully. “So, they were attacked by mutants? Nothing else on their way, apart from anomalies?” “I told you everything I know.” [["Are those blessings even real?" ->Blessings]]

“Originally intended for my personal defense,” Ezekiel admits, unclasping the black case. “But I am no marksman. Better it serve in your hands.” The lid opens, revealing a masterpiece of Old World craftsmanship: a heavy, angular pistol whose steel frame is etched with runes that glow faintly with cold blue fire. The grip, inlaid with darkened wood, bears the sigil of its arcane maker. Three loaded magazines rest beside it, each six rounds of brutal, oversized ammunition. “Magnificent…” you breathe, lifting it from its case. “Oh, the weight —” “Weight is the language of reliability,” Ezekiel intones. “These were the sidearms of the Empire’s clandestine agents. Forged to end lives of consequence.” “Enchanted, clearly,” you note. “But to what end?” “Designed to rend barriers of energy and spellwork alike,” the mage explains with crisp certainty. “Made for killing mages. You will, however, use it to disable war machines and ancient golems that yet roam the Lost Capital. I could attempt the task myself, but any spell uttered there may prove lethal to its caster.” [[“With this beauty in hand, our chances suddenly look far better.” ->Departure]]

The mage abruptly stops. The soul-cluster at the room’s centre pulses faster and faster, spitting jets of turquoise fire. The flames on the floor whip as though an invisible wind is trying to snuff them out. Cracks split the crystal in the statue’s helm and spread through the stone. “No!!! What’s happening!?!” Ezekiel flings up his hands, drawing strange symbols in the air, trying to stabilise the ritual. You see him sink to his knees as though crushed by the power he tried to command. The flames rise higher and burn brighter with each passing second. The hem of his robe ignites, the fire crawling across his body, turning the sorcerer to ashes. “You’ve ruined the circle! Curse you!!!” [["If I’m doomed to die, I am taking you with me!" ->FinaleEzekielDead]]

(set: $money to it - 25)The giant pours straight from his finger, ruby light glowing as the liquid swirls in the glass. You down a gulp: bitter-sweet, like juice mixed with battery acid. It sears down your throat in a trail of heat. For a moment you stand still, waiting. Then the itch of your bandaged wounds surges, unbearable. You rip off the wrappings. The dried scabs have vanished, replaced by raw, pink scar-tissue, as if a week of healing had passed over a minute. “...Wow,” you breathe.(set: $Wounded to false)(set: $Healed to true) “Ha!” D grins wide. “Told you it works miracles. Just don’t blame me for them side effects.” [[“I’ll keep that in mind.” ->NoThanks]]

“Twenty-five credits,” D says smoothly, already reaching for a clean glass. “You offered it free yesterday!” “Ha! That was yesterday,” the fat man huffs. “And you turned it down, that’s on you.” [[“Fine, pour it. Can’t meet an employer wounded and bandaged.” ->Heal]] [[“No thanks. I’ll pass.” ->NoThanks]]

You take a gulp. The taste is chemical, bitter-sweet, like fruit juice spiked with battery acid. Fire roars down your throat. For a moment you freeze, listening to your body. Then the itch in your bandaged wounds begins to burn. You tear off the wrappings and stare in disbelief: the dried scabs are gone, replaced by fresh scars, as if the wounds were a week old. “Damn…” you mutter, staring.(set: $Wounded to false) (set: $Healed to true) “That’s the magic, baby!" Big D beams. "Wanna top-up? Twenty-five creds. But we are in no charge of any of them side effects.” "I’ll keep that in mind.” [["Listen, I’m looking for work. You look like a recruiter." -> BigD2]] [["So why Big D?" -> BigDName]]

You unlatch the hood. It creaks open and, despite the car’s battered exterior, the engine bay looks almost embarrassingly tidy. Oil level correct, spark plugs new. The pipes are aged but clean, no carbon rings. Wiring is tidy, bound with fresh tape that hasn’t yellowed. The engine carries a maker’s stamp: far younger than the chassis. That means it's more powerful and reliable. The radiator gleams as if it were washed yesterday. Only the filters show wear and need replacing. You turn the key. The motor purrs, low and steady. No knocks, no wobble. Something about that dependable thrum straightens your shoulders. You slide under the chassis to check lines and seals: nothing leaks. You shut the engine off and climb out. Whoever kept this rig cared for it properly. Not Ezekiel, surely. A man like him wouldn’t know a wrench from a wand. {(if: $Salon is false) [[Check the cabin ->Salon]]} {(if: $Salon is true and $Hood is true) [["Only the trailer left." ->Trailer]]}

“You didn’t even try to run for cover when it all began. Just stood there, staring into nothing. {(if: $TitanClue is true)[Just like when we met the Titan.]}” (set: $EzekielLie2 to true) “They struck at our minds,” the mage shrugs. “But their main blow fell on me. It wasn’t just an attempt to cripple me, it was an attempt to dominate. While you fought them here, I was locked in battle on a mental plane.” “Hmm...” Mercury sighs. “Those things are dead, but my head is still buzzing as if I've been hit with a wrench.” “It will pass,” Ezekiel assures him evenly. [["Alright. We’d better move." ->Dungeon]] {(if: $EzekielLie1 is false)[["Those… machines… were using magic." ->Ezekiel?1]]}{(if: $EzekielLie1 is true and $Mind is true or $TitanClue is true)[["Bullshit. I want the truth."->TrueEnd]]}

As you make your way to the bar, a few mercs glance your way. Not out of interest in you, but in the worth of your belongings. But a vagrant’s treasures don’t amount to much: a bag, a comm-unit, a rusty revolver. Not worth the trouble. So their eyes slide off you fast. The massive bulk behind the counter turns as you approach, and you catch the glimmer of a smile in the bartender’s small, piggish eyes. He coughs, and a few ribbons of green smoke jet from the vents of his mask. “Ayo!” his bass thunders over the din. “Fresh face in my house? Damn right. Welcome to the Pit, fam. Name’s Big D — your new best friend.” {(if: $Wounded is true) [His eyes flick to your bandages: “Shiiit, you been chewed up on the way here, huh? Don’t trip. Big D gon’ fix you right up.”]}{(else:) [He grabs a glass and fills it with a neon-green sludge, bright as toxic waste, then shoves it toward you.]} {(if: $Wounded is true) [He grabs a glass and pours a ruby glow straight from his fingertip, sliding it across the bar.]} “First shot’s on the house. Sit yo’ ass down and talk to me.” Reeling from the man’s sheer presence, and his oddly genuine good will, you find yourself at a loss for words. The night’s chaos and exhaustion weigh on you. [["Talk about what?" -> BigD1]] [["I’m looking for work. And you look like a recruiter." -> BigD2]] [[“Big D? Strange name.” -> BigDName]] [["What’s this?" – point at the glass -> BigDDrink]]

“Why do you say ‘if’?” the paragonian asks, brows raised. “Well…” you drawl. “What if we don’t find your tomb at all? Or someone looted it long before us?” “Hah!” Ezekiel laughs. “I understand your skepticism. But you need not worry. We are searching for the tomb of Vilad Askaron, the Second Overlord. If anyone had ever uncovered his resting place, Paragon would certainly know of it. He was buried apart from his brothers and sisters, deep underground.” “And why are you so sure of that?” “Simple. He was a tyrant and a war criminal,” the mage answers flatly. "It is customary to bury such individuals far away, or even deny them a postmortem ceremony." “No, not that!” you shake your head. “Why are you so sure we’ll find anything at all?” For a moment, Ezekiel’s expression falters, as though he doesn’t even want to consider that outcome. “If such an unfortunate turn of events should befall us…” he says slowly, “and we return to Lunard empty-handed… I will pay each of you another five hundred credits, and we’ll part our ways. Of course, any valuables found along the road will be split evenly on our return. But that is all I can offer. I’ve already poured every last shred of myself and every coin I could scrape into this endeavor.” [[“And how many of us will there be in total?” ->Team]]

You ignore the lizard and let the mage handle the theatrics, stepping closer to the rig instead. Mercury drops from the roof like she was born to fall that way, holding the rifle as if it were no heavier than a feather. “Don’t mind Pav,” she chirps, grinning. “He’s just nervous. Won’t admit it.” You notice behind her goggles there aren’t human eyes at all, but three pairs of black beads, like a spider’s. It looks wrong in a way that makes your skin prickle, especially against her otherwise human face. She runs a hand down the barrel with fondness. “You’re kinda scrawny, though. Not very impressive. Not like my baby,” she says, thumb sliding along the stock. [["Is that a handheld AA gun, or are you just happy to see me?" -> GunTalk]] [["Unusual eyes. But why the goggles?" -> GogglesTalk]] [["So, you're not nervous about going to the Forbidden Lands?" -> MissionTalk]]

“Ah, the Forbidden Lands,” Ezekiel says, eyes narrowing with practiced dread. “It isn’t merely a horribly dangerous hole teeming with mutants, the undead and ancient constructs from the Overlords’ age. It’s a cursed place, poisoned by magic. The closer you get to its center, the Lost Capital, the more anomalies you’ll find, and the more warped magic becomes. In the capital itself you get chaotic surges of arcane energy and spatial distortions. Don’t be frightened; I have ways to detect and skirt those dangers. And for the brute encounters we’ve prepared weapons and combat androids: losses we can afford. Technomagical constructs and machines function there, albeit intermittently; spells, however, grow wildly unstable. It’s easier to accidentally blow yourself to pieces there, than to catch a funny disease from local harlots, if you'll pardon the comparison. That is why I avoided hiring other mages or mercs laden with implants.” “But…” you say, thinking hard. “The androids. They won’t glitch out?” “Of course not,” the mage answers with quiet certainty. “They’re mostly made of flesh and meat: former people, after all.”(set: $Info to true) [["So you’re an archaeologist? Who’s financing this?" ->Mission]] [["You want to loot an ancient tomb? For what? The bones of an old mage?" ->Bones]] [["And how many of us will there be?" ->Team]]

{(if: $Body is true) [The moment you think to sheathe the living blade, it uncoils from your hand of its own accord and fastens to your belt like a parasite claiming its host.]}{(else:) [The rune-pistol slips into your holster, magazines tucked into your vest. You keep your old revolver close at hand, it may yet serve a purpose.]} The combat androids march into the trailer. Pavel taps a control, and the hatch seals them in. You slide into the driver’s seat, the engine rumbling to life beneath your hands. Mercury materializes out of nowhere beside you, camouflage flickering off with a shimmer. The others settle into place as you steer the vehicle off the lot and onto the cracked street, heading east for the city’s gate. [[“May the gods be with us.” ->OnToRoad]]

(align:"=><=")+(box:"===XXXXXXXXXXXXXX===")[''The Black Road''](align:"=><=")+(box:"=XXXXXXXX=")[An interactive story by V. Ieremenko] You walk alone along a shattered highway beneath the merciless blaze of the noon sun. The cracked asphalt scorches your boots so fiercely it feels as though the soles are fusing to the road, tearing loose with each dragging step. The taste of your own salt-slick sweat clings to your tongue, and nothing can wash it away but liquor. Amusing, in its way—your water ran out days ago, yet your pack still holds a bottle of vodka, and your hand grips a full canister of mago-fuel. The trees lining the roadside promise shade, but stepping closer would be folly. Carnivorous plants and starving forest beasts grant no reprieve, only death. Proximity to the Forbidden Lands has twisted these woods into manhunting jungles. [["I survived where so many others fell. No one will steal this second chance from me." ->Legends]] (set: $Vincent to false)(set: $Wanderer to false)(set: $Energy to false)(set: $Body to false)(set: $Mind to false)(set: $Eyes to false)(set: $Legend to false)(set: $Life to false)(set: $Revenge to false)(set: $Wounded to false)(set: $Healed to false)(set: $Info to false)(set: $LostMachete to false) (set: $PavelGood to 0)(set: $SniperTalked to false)(set: $Salon to false)(set: $Hood to false)(set: $Trailer to false)(set: $TitanClue to false)(set: $TitanClue to false)(set: $MercuryIsDead to true)(set: $EzekielLie1 to false)(set: $EzekielLie2 to false) (set: $NotTime to false) (set: $Ruin to false)(set: $Wounded1 to false)(set: $Card1 to false)(set: $Worst to false)(set: $Chance1 to 0)(set: $Mercurybrother to false)(set: $Brother to false) (set: $money to 117)

To your surprise, Pavel answers plainly, without heat: “You want to crawl through alleys, you can kiss the drones goodbye. We’d be blind on one eye. And better to risk stealth than get caught in anomalies bottled up in narrow places.” [["Fair point. Let’s move.” ->Enter]]

{(if: $Body is true) [You snatch the living blade from your belt and lunge for the wizard.]}{(if: $Body is false) [You make a violent forward jerk, trying to grab the mage by the throat or gouge his eyes out.]} But you stop half a step from him, bound once more hand and foot. Ezekiel snorts, watching your feeble attempts. "{(if: $Mind is true) [I thought you were smarter, $Name. ]}What a pointless, foolish move. Haven’t you realized I prepared for everything? Even for you trying to kill me or tear the covenant apart?" Ezekiel raises his hand, curling it into a fist, and you recoil from him, frozen again, unable to move. "Sure, I misjudged the Watchers. Didn’t expect them to still be here. But that changes nothing." Catching his breath, the mage straightens up. “Pavel, plant the charges. And let us take cover.” [["I have no idea what you plan to do to us, but I’m not going to be a sheep led to slaughter!!!" ->TrueCryptAlt]]

"The place is a hellhole, through and through!" Mercury grins. “My brother used to tell stories: it’s like walking through a bad dream. Anomalies everywhere! One wrong step and you’re a bloody smear on the floor. Buildings flicker in and out of existence, some untouched by time and full of loot. But they’re also haunted by the ghosts of the long-dead, and guarded by war machines that never stopped their patrols. A magical place, in a word. Although, wait... That's two words." [["Magical? Sounds like a nightmare." ->LandsTalk1]] [["Yeah, I’ve heard you can strike it rich there." ->LandsTalk1]]

“The Forbidden Lands deal a different fate to everyone,” Mercury shrugs. “That’s what the mercs say, the ones who came back. They also say, after going there, you start to believe in gods. And that we killed them. I want to see which part’s true.” Slipping her rifle behind her back, she climbs back onto the car roof, signaling the conversation’s over. [[Time to get ready for the raid ->ToCar]]

The taste of cheap tobacco burns your mouth, chased with a swallow of lukewarm beer. But it calms the tremor in your hands, clears the fog in your head. No one rushes you. Not even Pavel, silent now, his usual snide comments absent for the last few hours. You start the car again and drive off. [[Half an hour later, and you are nearly at your destination.->Capital]]

You lost everything. Now the road carries you toward Lunard, the nearest city to the Forbidden Lands. Not in search of comfort or safety, but to gamble with fate, and perhaps claw your way free from the mire it keeps drowning you in. But only you decide what drives you forward. Is it vengeance? A simple, almost crude motive, but heavy enough to keep you moving, one blistering step after another. And what could taste sweeter than reaching your quarry at last, ripping the head from the shoulders of the one who brought you low? Or perhaps you are not that sort. May it be, that having sunk so deep there is no lower place left, you dream of growing wings instead. Picture it: a flight through thorns, toward the sun, to bathe in its rays of glory and prestige. A name, wealth, cars, weapons, women, all things you never possessed, but might yet seize. Tempting, isn’t it? Or maybe you crave no extremes at all. Indeed, why go to extremes when you can simply... breathe. Breathe freely, unshackled by law, duty, or expectations. You have nothing left, but that is what grants you freedom noone else can have. Why not simply live, and use that freedom well? So... What do you choose? [[The past cannot be reclaimed. But I can forge another future: one of glory, prestige, and coin. ->Choice]] [[He took everything from me: clan, kin, and friends. I will hunt down the one who brought the plague to my home, even if I must drown myself in blood to do it. ->Choice1]] [[Let it all burn. The world itself may go to hell. My only duty now is to keep moving forward. ->Choice2]]

You step into the alley, where Ezekiel waits. "Clean work," he remarks. [["Well then, I suppose it’s time we talked business?" ->EzekielWork]]

By the sixth hour, the world beyond the glass shifts as quickly as a candle, devoured by flames. Clouds gather, thick and heavy, and the sky deepens to a sinister shade of violet. On the horizon, red flashes writhe through the stormbank, as though scarlet lightning lashes the heavens. The forests and thickets skirting the road twist into fever-dream grotesqueries. The bark of trees gives way to slick, scarlet flesh, strangled by vines that look more like guts than greenery. The trunks pulse like pillars of meat, blistered and ulcerated. Leaves are gone, replaced by dangling tatters of skin and muscle. Abandoned, rotting vehicles litter the roadside. Hollow shells, many still marked with the clawing ruin left by mutant attacks. More than once you’re forced to slow, weaving around potholes and ruptured ground. Mercury kills the music. She and Pavel exchange a look, then both lean forward, eyes sharp, weapons clenched tight. Ready for whatever might crawl out of the meat-forest. [["I think we’d better stop here, suit up, and bring the scanner online." ->LostCapital1]]

{(if: $PavelGood is <= 0) ["At last, something intelligent out of your mouth," Pavel growls. "Pull over there."]}{(else:) ["Park it," Pavel orders flatly.]} The engine hasn’t even died before Mercury vaults onto the roof, rifle sweeping the treeline. You and the others disembark, moving with the urgency of a hunted prey. Ezekiel goes to the trailer, presses a sequence of buttons, and the scanner stirs to life. Its dish begins to turn with a faint mechanical whine, punctuated by occasional electronic chirps. The heavy helmet and gas mask settle over your head. Breathing grows labored, every inhale tasting of acrid chemicals of the filters. The armor plates weigh you down like lead, the thick gloves clumsy around your fingers. But shifting gears and steering isn’t beyond you. Everyone straps back in, and the vehicle crawls forward once more. You drive slower now, eyes darting between the road and the glowing tablet on the dashboard. [[But the first anomaly revealed itself before the scanner ever caught it. ->LostCapital2]]

Right in the middle of the highway, something had torn enormous slabs of earth and asphalt from the ground, suspending them in midair, where they now drifted in a silent, weightless waltz. Twisted husks of cars floated with them, an armored carrier with its doors ripped away, and even a full combat helicopter, rusted through, its blades snapped, its cabin blackened by fire. “A gravitational anomaly,” Ezekiel intoned. “Thank you, Captain Obvious,” you mutter automatically, eyes narrowing as you scan for a way around. You throw the gear into reverse, back up, and slip through a gap in the guardrail carved by some earlier wreck. The car jostles over rocks and patches of crimson, flesh-like growth before circling wide around the anomaly and finding the broken line of highway again. All the while, you make sure to give the meat-jungle a wide berth, and to never draw too close to that suspended graveyard of steel and stone. A bead of sweat slides down your cheek. Your chest locks with a pressure of dread. Only then do you realize you’ve gone a minute without breathing properly, and so have your passengers. The engine hums on. Around you, nothing. Not even wind. It feels as though the very air has died. [[There’s no more reason to fear death. You’re already in hell. ->LostCapital3]]

The scanner begins to pulse with a steady beep. You glance at the tablet to see ten red circles blooming across the black screen, scattered ahead like a minefield. Every one of them an anomaly. You look at the road ahead and see only a clear path. Deceptively empty and safe. Well, almost. A single armored jeep lies crumpled at the roadside, split clean into three uneven pieces, as if carved apart by some titanic scalpel. The poor bastards inside likely never even realized what killed them. An open road, but also an invitation into unseen death. Without the mingling of magic and engineering built into this old hag of a car, you would have driven straight into the slaughter. [[Steel your nerves and thread the path. ->LostCapital4]] [["I’m not driving into that. We’ll have to find another road." ->LostCapital5]]

No one answers you. So you throw it in reverse, turning the moto-carriage and its trailer back the way you came. “Nearest turn-off to another highway?” you ask Ezekiel. He only lifts a shoulder. “Maps are worthless here,” Pavel reminds you in his grave, rasping voice. “Forbidden Lands shift and change with time. We must find our own way.” You steer the car back, almost reaching the gravitational anomaly, when you hear Mercury call out: “Hey, hey! What about there?” she points ahead. A road branches off the highway, shattered and overgrown, vanishing into the twisted, mutant forest. You’d swear by every god that road wasn’t there when you passed earlier. [["No way. I saw a turn-off about five clicks back. We’ll take that one." ->LostCapital4.1]] [["Alright. We’ll try it here." ->LostCapital4.2]]

You can’t say for sure if it was the wiser choice. But you drive back, retracing kilometers, then take another road. From there it becomes a labyrinth. Again and again you’re forced onto narrow turn-offs, smaller roads that spit you onto other broken arteries. Past collapsed gas stations. Past an entire shopping mall, swallowed up to its roof by the meat-jungle. Around visible anomalies, invisible ones, and once even clambering out of the car to push it free when a wheel dropped into a ditch. The web of highways and junctions you traced felt so tangled, so maddeningly senseless, it could not possibly have been designed by a human mind. [[But at last, after seemingly endless wandering, your detour came to an end. ->Capital]]

You swing the car around and guide it down a road you could swear wasn’t there before. A narrow track, its edges strangled by growths of living flesh, stretches for about a kilometer before it begins to crumble into dirt and gravel. Soon the wheels stop drumming on cracked asphalt. Instead, they grind against a rough country lane so narrow that the branches of twisted, mutant trees claw at the car’s bodywork. [["No big deal. Every road leads somewhere eventually." ->LostCapital4.2.1]]

The forest closes in around you like a clenched fist. Branches like shriveled arms rake across the moto-carriage. Inside, the silence is funereal. Mercury grips her rifle, eyes darting. Pavel stares out the window, gun in hands. You swallow hard and press the gas. Your chest pounds. The longer you drive, the stronger the feeling grows that this road isn’t leading you somewhere, it’s leading you to someone. A minute later, the road ends, leading you to a clearing with an overturned, wrecked truck in its center. Its twisted frame blocks the path, but that's not the worst part. Its entire surface is covered with thin strands of flesh, as if the vehicle had been turned into a living cocoon. [[Turn the car around before it’s too late. -> LostCapital4.2.2]]

You ease the car forward, eyes fixed not on the road, but on the screen. The scanner shrieks in a rising, hysterical pitch. The Ayle counters built into your suits begin to wail in chorus. You accelerate, then slam the brakes. Swerve left, swing right, keeping the trailer tucked tight through every turn. Sweat pools in your gloves as your hands twitch on the wheel and shifter. Red dots slide past on the display. You’ve no idea what horrors lurk out there in the unseen void, only that you must keep the car moving. You press the pedal again. And the engine dies. The car goes silent. Your heart stops with it. The radar falls mute, the tablet screen black. A crashing silence descends. [[Turn on the ignition ->LostCapital5.1]]

Your hand trembles as you twist the key. Nothing. Again and again. Still nothing. A cold ripple races across your skin. The starter whirs, weak and hollow. Puff-bang! A few lonely coughs from the exhaust. [["Come on, you miserable old shit, start!!!" ->LostCapital5.2]]

You slam your palm on the steering wheel. With trembling fingers, you pull out the key and insert it again, praying silently that no one will start spouting their useless advice. Insert. Twist. Pray. (live: 9s)[(go-to: "LostCapital5.3")

The engine roars awake like a beast dragging itself out of a grave, and the cabin trembles with its steady growl. You glance at your passengers, the relief on their faces is the kind a condemned man wears when his execution is called off. One problem: the car runs. The scanner does not. [["Doesn’t matter! I’ve got the bastards memorized. I’ll drive blind if I have to!" ->LostCapital5.4]]

One anomaly — right flank. A slow drift left, hugging the roadside. The second one seems to be right in front of you now. Ease back, angle wide, but not too far: third anomaly lurking right there. Then thread the needle between the last two. Straight through the center. The wheels turn with glacial slowness. The moto-carriage crawls, slower than an old man on his final walk. Five meters. Ten. Another twenty. Still alive. You cut the engine. “Here,” Pavel mutters, still pale, passing you a cigar. Despite despite the danger, he tears off his mask and lights himself one up.(set: $PavelGood to it +1) [[Take a breath. Let the nerves settle. ->Last Road]]

The Watcher spasms, hangs in the air for an instant, then crumples inward upon itself, crushed like a sheet of paper balled in a fist. The twisted wreckage clatters to the floor. You swallow hard, still not quite believing you’re alive. Ezekiel lowers his hand and shakes his head heavily, struggling to remain standing. Your head throbs, every breath feels heavy. You grope for an injector, only to find it cracked, its liquid seeping across your pocket. “Shit…” You drag yourself to hands and knees, retrieving your fallen pistol. “We have to move!” Ezekiel’s voice trembles. “Before more of them come. Those were the citadel’s guards, if there were two, there’ll be twenty more. Pavel, take the explosives. $Name, help me. We can’t waste another second.” [["What about Mercury?" ->MageMercuryDead]] [["Wait… those… machines… they were using magic." ->MageEzekiel?1]]

“And you too...” you mutter. “You said it was dangerous, but I don’t see anyone exploding just yet.” “I risked my life casting a single spell,” the mage snaps. “A risk you forced on me. And by the heavens, I have no idea how those things managed what they did. This is the Lost Capital. Rivers here can flow uphill!” The ache returns, stabbing temples and pulsing in your skull. You’re so sick of this cursed city, sick of the Forbidden Lands. You just want to be anywhere else. [["Fuck it! Let's go. I don't want to spend a minute longer here than necessary." ->WorstEnd2]] [["I don’t believe you." ->MageWhy]]

“And what would you suggest?” the paragonian sneers, standing upright again. “A hero’s funeral? Here?” {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2) ["We don’t have time to mourn,” Pavel cuts in. “Of course it’s a loss, but we all knew what we were signing up for."]}{(if: $PavelGood is <= 2) ["No time for tears, kid,” Pavel growls. Then, sharper: “Get your shit together. Let's move.”]} [["Fine." ->WorstEnd2]] [["I don’t believe you." ->MageWhy]]

You scan the hall and spot her body nearby. It’s twisted at an unnatural angle, legs reduced to pulp. The sight sends a lump rising to your throat. “Dead,” Ezekiel says. “She knew the risks. The girl was a sniper, not supposed to play hero. She paid the price for arrogance.” He starts coughing violently and almost folds in half in the throes. “Sorcerer! Are you alright?’ Pavel jumps up to him, helping him to his feet. “I shouldn't have mentioned arrogance...” the paragonian lets out a chuckle. “I knew I shouldn't have used serious force. And now I'm paying for it. But no worries, could be much worse...” “We lost the entire escort,” Pavel mutters, eyeing the smear on the floor that used to be one of your robotic servants. {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2) [["Are we going to just leave her like this?" ->MageMercury]]} {(if: $PavelGood is <= 1) [["You mean to just leave her here?" ->MageMercury]]} [["Those… machines. They were using magic. And you did too." ->MageEzekiel?1]]

“Something stinks about this whole expedition…” you draw your pistol and pull back the hammer. The truth clicks into place. “You… you’re a psionic. Just like those golems,” your hand twitches toward your weapon. “A mind-mage. The headaches: I felt them when I first met you. And I felt the same pain from the Watchers. You’ve been twisting our thoughts the whole time! Every time, every single time, it came with the same pain.” {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2) [To your surprise, Pavel jerks up his rifle. Not at you, but at the mage.]}{(if: $PavelGood is <= 1) ["Nomad, you’ve lost it!” Pavel snaps. “Calm down. Contract binds us. We’re in the same damn boat!”]} {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2) ["What the hell, mage!?” he demands. “Is it true?"]} For several seconds, silence hangs over the ruined hall. The paragonian clenches his fists, every inch of him radiating irritation and barely contained rage. You cock the hammer back. [["I want the truth." ->MageOpenCards2]]

“Very well,” the mage nods. “The truth is…” He raises his hand, pointing straight at you. “…that I need you alive.” Suddenly your arm goes numb. Fingers slacken. The pistol slips from your grasp and clatters to the floor. {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2) [In the next instant Pavel’s rifle slips free as well. He collapses to his knees, but only to rise again, moving like a puppet with dead eyes.]}{(if: $PavelGood is <= 1) [Pavel doesn’t so much as twitch. Of course — Ezekiel already had him in his grip, using him as a talking marionette while you still believed the show.]} “Stubborn,” Ezekiel sneers. “It took real effort to nudge you without digging into your mind. I thought you a thick-headed brute like Pavel. But no, you’ve got stronger walls. Shame. But there is no more reason for games. Stand up!” Invisible strings jerk your body upright. You see it all. You understand everything. But you can’t move a damn finger. Can’t even open your mouth. Something writhes inside your skull, stinging your brain like a worm, forcing its way through your thoughts and memories. You feel it inside more distinct than ever. “That’s better,” the paragonian nods with satisfaction. “Now pick up {(if: $Body is true) [your blade and follow me]}{(if: $Body is true) [the pistol and hand it to me]}.” Then he turns to the frozen lizard-man: “Grab the crates.” [[Fate’s a bitch ->OpenCards3]]

{(if: $TitanClue is true) ["When we fled the titan, you said the same thing."]} You shake your head, trying to fight off the pain. “When those machines attacked, you shouted: psionic golems. You knew exactly what they were and what they could do! And I don’t see them, or you, getting torn apart or exploding! You could have saved Mercury! Damn it, I’m starting to think you wouldn’t have lasted here without us. They barely even noticed you!” Pavel eyes first you, then the mage, suspicion plain on his face. Ezekiel exhales heavily and snaps back, irritation bleeding into his voice: “Yes, damn it, psionic golems! We in Paragon use them too! I know what they are, but I have no idea how they were doing what they did. And what you saw? That was nothing compared to what I endured! They tried to break into my mind. I pushed them back with nothing but sheer will. If I hadn’t, you’d be on the floor right now, drooling into the dirt. I walked a razor’s edge and survived by a miracle!” “Enough,” Pavel cuts in, sharp and commanding. Then he glances at you. “The client’s word is final. He’s barely on his feet. Quit whining.” Ezekiel draws a few deep, ragged breaths. {(if: $Mind is true) [The itch of suspicion gnaws at the back of your brain. Shame you can’t read his face through the fogged visor of his mask: whatever’s there would tell you everything.]} “Let me go, Pavel,” he says quietly. “I can walk on my own. We must hurry. We’re close to the goal.” (set: $NotTime to true) [["Fine. I believe you. But don’t blame me for asking questions." ->WorstEnd2]] [["Another lie. You let Mercury die." ->MageOpenCards]] [[Mask your thoughts. Stay quiet. This isn’t the time. ->Dungeon]]

“Eyes open,” Pavel commands over comms. “The mission’s far from done.” “Once we’re inside, we must find the descent, to the catacombs beneath,” Ezekiel says. His tone carries no doubt. “Onward.” The bio-drones slip ahead, gliding through the arch like silent moths. Beyond lies a hall vast enough to swallow a cathedral. Light filters in only through ragged holes in the masonry, broken columns sprawled like fallen giants. And bones. So many bones. Layer upon layer, crunching beneath every step, the echoes climbing into the shadowed vault above. Thousands, tens of thousands of citizens attempted to find refuge in the majestic fortress of the Overlords. But its walls became their tomb, and its towers their gravestones. At the chamber’s center rises a stone basin the size of a ship, once cradling a great tree. Now nothing remains but a husk of grey wood, its branches shriveled, lifeless. Like the citadel itself. Built in ancient times, when the world knew neither machines, gunpowder, nor mutations, now it looks as if it could collapse like a house of cards at any moment. All around you, staircases spiral upward, doorways yawn into blackness, most collapsed or buried under rubble. [["Which way?" ->Watchers]]

{(if: $TitanClue is true) ["When we fled the titan, you said the same thing."]} You shake your head, trying to fight off the pain. “When those machines attacked, you shouted: psionic golems. You knew exactly what they were and what they could do! And I don’t see them, or you, getting torn apart or exploding! You could have saved Mercury! Damn it, I’m starting to think you wouldn’t have lasted here without us. They barely even noticed you!” Pavel eyes first you, then the mage, suspicion plain on his face. Ezekiel exhales heavily and snaps back, irritation bleeding into his voice: “Yes, damn it, psionic golems! We in Paragon use them too! I know what they are, but I have no idea how they were doing what they did. And what you saw? That was nothing compared to what I endured! They tried to break into my mind. I pushed them back with nothing but sheer will. If I hadn’t, you’d be on the floor right now, drooling into the dirt. I walked a razor’s edge and survived by a miracle!!!” “Enough,” Pavel cuts in, sharp and commanding. Then he glances at you. “The client’s word is final. He’s barely on his feet. Quit whining.” Ezekiel draws a few deep, ragged breaths. {(if: $Mind is true) [The itch of suspicion gnaws at the back of your brain. Shame you can’t read his face through the fogged visor of his mask: whatever’s there would tell you everything.]} “I can walk now, so let's get going,” commands the mage. “We need to hurry: we shouldn't be not far from our destination.” (set: $NotTime to true) [["Fine. I believe you. But don’t blame me for what happened." ->WorstEnd2]] [[There is only one way to get the whole truth, but you'll have to risk your own life. Again. ->OpenCards]] [[Mask your thoughts. Stay quiet. This isn’t the time. ->Dungeon]]

“You wish,” Ezekiel answers with a small smile. Following the mage onto the lot, the sight that greets you is almost surreal. An old, almost vintage Peak Industries moto-carriage sits skewed across two spaces, its doors flung open and music bleeding out from inside. Two security androids stand sentinel, scanning the perimeter. Behind the vehicle, a small trailer module crouches, a satellite dish sprouting from its roof. Its side panels are flung open like a shell, revealing a portable terminal. Near the terminal, muttering to himself, a strange mutant works: a desert-lizard–meets-dinosaur of a man in black armor. Huge as a bull, a battle rifle slung at his side, a cigar jammed between his teeth and a can of beer in his hand. There’s a whole crate of the cans nearby. On the roof of the vintage machine the air ripples and a girl peels off a holographic veil. She is dressed in a light camouflage raincoat and is currently aiming at you with a heavy sniper rifle, the weapon longer than she is. Her eyes are hidden behind strange spider-like goggles. “Hey, boss,” the girl, whom Ezekiel seems to have called Mercury, salutes the mage, but won’t lower the barrel. [["Easy! I’m with you!" ->MeetTheSoldier]]

“I had to completely reinstall the firmware of those clods!” the lizard snarls in a coarse voice. “Somebody ought to lose their hands for the mess they made configuring them!” He turns toward you and freezes for a beat. “Mercury. Pavel,” Ezekiel eyes them in turn. “This is $Name, the last recruit for our merry band: driver and mechanic.” The girl lowers her rifle and waves. The lizard spits his cigar in annoyance. “You’re kidding, sorcerer?” he asks in a growl. “You said you’d take a proper mercenary. What is this green-nasal snot? Did you pull him out from under a school desk?” His accent is odd, not one you hear around these parts every day. [[Sarcastic: “I pictured our ‘captain’ looking a little different.” ->Rude]] [[Calm: “Don’t judge a book by its cover.” ->Calm]] [[Ignore the lizard and approach the sniper ->Ignore]]

{(if: $SniperTalked is true) [“Well, that went better than I expected. When they introduced us, he called me ‘crazy’."]}{(if: $SniperTalked is false)[Mercury drops from the roof like she was born to fall that way, holding the rifle as if it were no heavier than a feather.]} {(if: $SniperTalked is false)[“Don’t mind Pav,” she chirps, grinning. “He’s just nervous. Won’t admit it.”]}{(if: $SniperTalked is true)[["Are you crazy, though?"->CrazyMercury]]} {(if: $SniperTalked is false)[You notice behind her goggles there aren’t human eyes at all, but three pairs of black beads, like a spider’s. It looks wrong in a way that makes your skin prickle, especially against her otherwise human face. She runs a hand down the barrel with fondness.]} {(if: $SniperTalked is false)[“You’re kinda scrawny, though. Not very impressive. Not like my baby,” she says, thumb sliding along the stock.]} {(if: $SniperTalked is false)[["Is that a handheld AA gun, or are you just glad to see me?" -> GunTalk1]]} {(if: $SniperTalked is false)[["Нобычные глаза. Но зачем тебе очки?" -> GogglesTalk1]]}{(if: $SniperTalked is true)[["С ним будет трудно... Ладно, мне ещё нужно много чего сделать, а времени осталось не так много."->ToCar]]} {(if: $SniperTalked is false)[["А ты, значит, не нервничаешь перед поездкой в Запретные Земли?"-> MissionTalk1]]}

“She’s dead,” Ezekiel says with a shrug. “She knew the risks. The girl was supposed to be our sniper, and she had no business exposing herself like that. Overconfidence killed her.” He breaks off, coughing hard. “Not that I’ve any right to speak of overconfidence. I warned about the danger, and still I used my magic.” “We lost the entire escort,” Pavel mutters, staring at the smear on the floor that used to be one of your robotic servants. You glance aside and spot the sniper girl lying twisted on the floor. Her body is broken at grotesque angles, her legs shattered to pulp. The sight forces bile to your throat. {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2)[["We’re just going to leave her here?" ->MercuryDead1]]}{(if: $PavelGood <= 1)[["You mean to just leave her here?" ->MercuryDead1]]} [[Examine the Watchers’ remains ->WhatisWatcher]]

“And what would you suggest?” the paragonian asks. “A hero’s funeral? Here?” {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2) ["We don’t have time to mourn,” Pavel cuts in. “Of course it’s a loss, but we all knew what we were signing up for."]}{(if: $PavelGood is <= 1) ["No time for tears, kid,” Pavel growls. Then, sharper: “Get your shit together. Let's move.”]} [["Fine..."->WorstEnd2]] [[No, you need to examine these Watchers->WhatisWatcher]]

The creatures land with inhuman grace just ahead. [["Take cover!" ->Cover]] [[Fire at the nearest Watcher -> Shot]] [[Throw a grenade ->GrenadeThrow]]

“No,” Ezekiel answers, sounding a little disappointed at your lack of enthusiasm. “I am a theoretician mage from the Amethyst Tower Academy in Paragon. A magister of modern history, specializing in the Age of Sundering, and an expert in psionics. This expedition, however, is my personal undertaking. To prepare and organize it, I sold my home in Paragon, scraped my savings down to the last coin, and went deep into debt. I’ve poured everything I have into this venture. And I have almost no doubts about our success.” [[“Good to hear. But I’d like know more about the team. How many of us will there be?” ->Team]] [[“And what exactly awaits us in this tomb? Treasure? Artifacts?” ->Reward]]

You quicken your stride. You are no ordinary man anymore. Against your will, and by means most vile, you became part of the grim body-mod culture. Your flesh has mutated. You became a different creature. Maybe not outwardly, but inside, you are no longer human.(set: $Eyes to false) (set: $Body to false) (set: $Mind to false) [[Your senses sharpened. Darkness descends, yet your eyes pierce it with ease. Every whisper from the brush reaches your ears, though your nose, choked by you own sweat, proves useless for now. ->Buff]] [[Your body has grown stronger, harder to tire. Without realizing, you fall into a steady run. ->Buff1]] [[Your mind has changed, nerves like fiber-optic cables. You parse reality in fragments, analyzing and reacting with inhuman speed. ->Buff2]]

In this cursed land the borders between species and races blurred long ago. That’s what the mutations did. Some are religious about it: worshippers who see mutations as blessings from the “Great Devourer” or whatever old god the myths cough up. According to them, mutation elevates the weak and imperfect toward a purer lifeform. They don’t care if those same mutations rot minds or turn the thinking into monstrous beasts. Others, like the fanatics the slug hinted at, Leoss theocracy zealots, see mutations as a sickness that engulfed the world and must be excised with steel and flame. In a sense they’re right: nine out of ten sapients bear severe visible mutations, or straight up look like nightmarish flesh-beasts. The last one out of ten swears they are “pureblooded,” but hide a sixth finger in their glove, a second heart in their chest or a third eye under their hat. Mutations can be controlled. Grow a second pair of arms, improve your genetics or graft monstrous regeneration: it is a fast track to power. Creating or even erasing mutations is not too difficult. Mages who specialize in this are usually called flesh-benders. But however many outward signs they erase, mutations tend to return, often worse. Maybe not in you, but almost certainly in your children. And there aren’t that many magi left who can safely play with that fire. Even if you've been spared the fate to be born a defective freak or a bio-weapon of death, you've always been and will always remain a mutant. You will continue to mutate, whether you like it or not. [[Back -> SlugQuestion]]

“Mercury, look at this,” you call to her, stepping closer to the dust- and cobweb-strewn remains. “The one with the goggles.” The girl appears at your side, shedding her camouflage. “The Watchers didn’t kill these,” she says, crouching to inspect the corpse. Strangely, the dead carry no weapons. Getting closer you see a couple of bullet holes in the helmet of one. Then Mercury, without ceremony, plunges her hands under the corpse’s dusty clothing, tears it open at the chest, and pulls a strange amulet off the corpse’s neck: an octagonal iron star. “Leniard…” she breathes quietly. “Brother…” The lizard-man and the mage come over. Ezekiel, clearly impatient, wants to push you onward, but Pavel raises a hand and halts him. The girl clenches the medallion in her fist: “They told me the squad ran into a monster in the catacombs… but those bastards just killed him! Didn’t want to share the loot! Askin lied to me to my face!!!” She stands and tucks the pendant into her pocket. “When we get back to Lunard, I’ll find those cunts and put so many holes in them that it'll be enough for the whole city to screw them!!!”(set: $Mercurybrother to true) [["First, we have to finish this job and get out of here."->Crypt2.5]]

That car had been your life’s work. Half your years poured into scouring junkyards for parts, repairing them with your own hands. Found an engine from a military “Mallet" car, wheels from an ATV. Painted the body of an old Akuza Squall jet–black. A true wasteland’s sports car damn it. Every guy in the clan looked on your masterpiece with envy. [[Now’s not the time for nostalgia. -> Slug]]

“And next: you die,” the mage spreads his free hand. “A pity it must end this way. Mercury irritated me. Pavel's just an unpleasant type. But you… you I liked. You even have a spark of magic in you. A tiny and pathetic one, but it is there.” “Oh, go fuck yourself.” “After you,” the mage smiles. Invisible bands crush you, wrenching you into the air. Pain ripples through your body in waves. The chalked circles on the floor flare with turquoise flames. The fire is far below, yet it feels as if you’ve been plunged into boiling oil. You’d scream, but your throat is locked, your jaw opens soundlessly. “I’ll try not to make it hurt,” Ezekiel’s voice filters through the haze of agony. {(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [“Though with only two sacrifices, it will be difficult.”]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [“But I can’t promise anything.”]} {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [All three of you: Pavel, Mercury, and you, are dragged toward the open sarcophagus. The bones inside kindle with turquoise fire.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [You’re hauled closer to the coffin, facing Pavel across its edge. The bones inside ignite with blue fire.]} {(if: $Ruin is false) [["Rot in hell, you bastard!" ->Finale]]}{(if: $Ruin is true) [["Rot in hell, you bastard!" ->Ruin]]}

“Rations, rounds, injector-serums, spare filters for the respirators, scanners, grenades… in short, the full gentleman’s kit for any self-respecting mercenary. I also have for you a full protective armored suit. Without it, you won’t last a minute in the Lost Capital: the emanations of magic alone will kill you. And…” Ezekiel’s gaze falls on your weapon. “Something more reliable, more lethal, to deal with obstacles along the way. {(if: $LostMachete is false) [That hunk of metal and gun of yours, older than the Empire itself, are only good for scaring stray dogs.]}{(if: $LostMachete is true) [That gun of yours, older than the Empire itself, is only good for scaring stray dogs.]}{(if: $LostMachete is true and $Body is true) [And yes, you’ll need a new weapon for close combat. Can’t have you going without one.]} So then? Do you believe you can handle the role I intend for you?” Even with the vow of silence, it’s obvious the paragonian isn’t telling you everything. But his preparation is thorough: suits, scanners, combat androids, well-thought-out roles. It all sounds like he’s already accounted for everything. Everything except you. You might very well end up the weakest link of the chain. The pain in my temples intensifies, turning into a migraine. [[//"I can’t refuse."// ->Yes]] [[I want to refuse. ->No1]]

[["I can’t refuse."->Yes]] [[I want to refuse.->No2]]

[[You can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]][[ Can’t refuse.->Yes]] [[I want to refuse->No3]]

[[You must.->Yes]] [[I don’t want to->No4]]

You have decided to defy fate and the tenacious mage who has already begun to consider you his mercenary. You chose your own path, and few can boast that they have succeeded in doing so. And now your future is in your own hands. Will you survive, will you find the Wanderer, will you succeed in the mercenary business? All this is a completely different story. Is this what you expected to see here? (live: 15s)[(go-to: "END")]

D turns away from you, rummaging under the counter, dishes clattering as he searches for something. A few minutes of waiting, and the bar’s door creaks open. In the doorway stands a short man in a strange black outfit, halfway between a priest’s robe and a medieval court dress. His age is hard to pin down, not only because of his soft features and weak chin, but also the ridiculous bowl-cut haircut perched on his head. His long knotted fingers glitter with thin gemstone rings that flicker faintly in the half-light. At his belt hangs a sceptre, no doubt a magical one. {(if: $Mind is true) [He’s clearly no man of strength. He stoops a little, his frame frail. But his eyes burn with a pride so swollen it almost bends his spine straighter.]} He steps inside, glances about the hall, and marches up to the counter. “Hey, bartender. Where in the blazes is my driver?” his voice is nasal, unpleasant. “The hulking brute with the mechanical arm. He should be waiting here for me.” “The fuck should I know?” D yawns lazily. “Ask Vincent. Over there, corner table.” “I assume you’re looking for me,” you say, stepping forward. The paragonian runs his eyes over you, startled. “By the heavens… and who are you supposed to be?” [["Your new driver." ->Ezekiel1]] [["You can call me $Name." ->Ezekiel2]]

A blue tracer rips through the Watcher’s skull. You collapse, choking. Ezekiel keeps firing until the magazine clicks empty. The ruined husk of the Watcher slumps to the floor. [["Die, you bastard!" ->BadEnd]]

“Then your eyes burst and your heart explodes,” the mage says without blinking. A beat later, he smirks. “Kidding. The oath simply makes it impossible. No talking, no writing… nothing. Though of course, you’ll still be able to speak freely with me and the rest of our group.” [[“What if I don't want to get involved with magic and shady vows?” ->WhatSilence]] [[“Alright, I am fine with this condition.” ->Silence]]

“Zero, then,” Pavel states flatly. “Listen up, smartass. I lead this team. Not only because I punch harder than ten of you. Nut because I’ve been in the Forbidden Lands and the Lost Capital. You follow my orders. I say run, you run. I say drop, you go face-first into the dirt. I say jump, you can ask how far. If you want to live, you don’t take a single step without permission. Clear?” [["I’ve got my own head on my shoulders." ->ForMyself]] [["Ezekiel hired me. If he says I follow you, I will." ->ForTeam]]

Pavel lights up a cigar and cracks open yet another beer from the crate he smuggled into the cab. Ezekiel sits beside you in the passenger seat, frowning thoughtfully at a paper map spread across his knees. Mercury, stretched out in the back seat with her boots up on the panel, starts cleaning her rifle. “Hey,” she says after five minutes of silence. “What now? We gonna sit here in silence all the way to the Capital? ’Cause if so, boredom’s gonna kill me before the monsters do.” [["We could talk business. Ezekiel, how long till we get there? What does the map say?" ->WorkTalk]] [["Alright, tell us something fun." ->Anekdote]] [["Here’s what I don’t get… Ezekiel, why the hell are you so eager to risk your life just to talk to some ghost?" ->Really?]] [[Stay quiet, you are in no mood for chatter ->SilentRide]]

Without even slowing down, your vehicle blows past the Vanguard checkpoint, and soon you’re speeding down the cracked old highway toward the Lost Capital. The wheels bump softly over fractured asphal, the trailer hitch creaks behind. Wind whips your hair through the open window, bass rattles the car from the radio, and wild forests blur past outside. Your fingers grip the steering wheel tightly, your chest swelling with anticipation. Here you are: driving straight toward the most dangerous place on the planet, in a car full of mercenaries and a mage with questionable motives and an even murkier past. Not exactly how you planned to spend your week. {(if: $Life is true) [Maybe you don’t really want to “just live” after all. Maybe that recruiter playing prophet was right — peace was never an option for you. But you’re no coward, and the adventurer’s road suits you just fine.]}{(if: $Revenge is true) [Everything to find the Dark Wanderer. Everything to become strong enough to punish him.]}{(if: $Legend is true) [Maybe that’s how the other great mercenaries and legendary adventurers started too. By chance or accident. And maybe this is your chance.]} [[If there are moments that change a life forever, this is definitely one of them. ->OnTheRoad]]

"This whole expedition reeks of a setup," {(if: $Body is true)[you draw the living blade, tightening your grip until it pulses in your hand.]}{(if: $Body is false)[you draw your pistol and pull back the hammer.]} {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2)["$Name, what the hell are you doing?” Pavel shouts.]}{(if: $PavelGood is <= 1)["Nomad, has this place completely melted your brain?” Pavel snaps.]} The pieces start clicking into place. “You… you’re a psionic. Just like those golems,” your hand twitches toward your weapon. “A mind-mage. The headaches: I felt them when I first met you. And I felt the same pain from the Watchers. You’ve been twisting our thoughts the whole time! Every time, every single time, it came with the same pain.” Ezekiel regards you in silence. After several long seconds, he finally speaks: “You’ve completely lost it, haven’t you? Conspiracy theories now? You seem to forget — you’re bound by contract not to harm me, or any other member of this party. And you are obligated to do whatever is necessary to see this mission succeed.” “I remember,” you answer." {(if: $Body is true)[You press the blade to your own throat.]}{(if: $Body is false)[You raise the pistol to your own temple.]} (live: 30s)[(go-to: "OpenCards1")]

For several seconds, the hall is drowned in silence. The paragonian’s mask of superiority slips away, irritation and anger bleeding through. “I’m bound to do whatever it takes to complete the mission?” you repeat. “Then fine, I believe I’m dead weight. Without me, your odds of survival only improve. But you wouldn’t leave me behind… would you?” {(if: $Body is true)[Your grip tightens around the living blade’s hilt.]}{(if: $Body is false)[You put your finger on the trigger.]} “I see it now. You need us alive. So, indulge me, mage.” [["I want the truth." ->OpenCards2]]

“Very well,” the mage nods. “The truth is…” He raises his hand, pointing straight at you. “…that I do, indeed, need you alive.” Suddenly your arm goes numb. Fingers slacken. The pistol slips from your grasp and clatters to the floor. {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2) [In the next instant Pavel’s rifle slips free as well. He collapses to his knees, but only to rise again, moving like a puppet with dead eyes.]}{(if: $PavelGood is <= 1) [Pavel doesn’t so much as twitch. Of course — Ezekiel already had him in his grip, using him as a talking marionette while you still believed the show.]}{(if:$MercuryIsDead is false) [ Mercury falls to one knee, clutching her head, but soon stands up straight again, like a soldier on parade.]} “Stubborn,” Ezekiel sneers. “It took real effort to nudge you without digging into your mind. I thought you a thick-headed brute like Pavel. But no, you’ve got stronger walls. Shame. But there is no more reason for games. Stand up!” Invisible strings jerk your body upright. You see it all. You understand everything. But you can’t move a damn finger. Can’t even open your mouth. Something writhes inside your skull, stinging your brain like a worm, forcing its way through your thoughts and memories. You feel it inside more distinct than ever. “That’s better,” the paragonian nods with satisfaction. “Now pick up {(if: $Body is true) [your blade and follow me]}{(if: $Body is true) [the pistol and hand it to me]}.” Then he turns to the frozen lizard-man: “Pavel, would you be so kind as to grab the boxes and follow us?{(if:$MercuryIsDead is false) [ Mercury, lead the way.]}” [[Fate’s a bitch ->OpenCards3]]

You’ve no idea how long your shrunken band of puppet-master and marionettes has wandered the endless corridors. An hour? Three? The place is a maze of halls, stairwells, and side passages. Several times the headaches returned, the ringing in your ears pulsing sharper with every step. Once, you nearly stumbled into another Watcher, only the faint glimmer of its eye in the distance gave you warning. You killed the lights and pressed into a narrow alcove, holding your breath until it passed. They seem to be searching, hunting you. But you know with unsettling certainty that they will not find you. Ezekiel will see to that. By the time your legs tremble from exhaustion and your eyes ache from the unbroken gloom, you finally reach a massive stone archway, flanked by statues of skeletal knights in armor, perfectly preserved. “Well then, friends, we’re nearly there,” Ezekiel says with satisfaction. He kneels, brushing dust from a small tablet on the flor. “//Adorash Madred, te aniash deredunt, esh intrad.// Bow before the dead who gave their lives for you, and enter. The Tombs of the Overlords’ Knights. Our prize lies somewhere within. We need only find the right crypt.” The mage turns toward you, lips curling faintly. “Stay close. Spirits and restless dead may linger here…” a chuckle escapes him. “Ah, but I forget: you can’t disobey me anyway. Then let’s all bow, as the guardians demand, and move on.” Your body bends stiffly into an awkward bow. {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false)[The others bow too, but with more grace, smooth and natural. It’s clear they’re under another kind of leash altogether. They move freer than you do, their weapons still at the ready.]} {(if: $MercuryIsDead is true)[Pavel bows beside you as well, but his movements are smoother, freer, his rifle never leaves his hands. He’s not bound like you. No, something else has gripped him. His brain has been washed clean.]} [["Bastard." -> TrueCrypt]]

The southernmost reaches of the continent belong to Paragon, the land of spellbinders and high magi. You know little of it beyond rumor. They say it’s paradise for those born magically gifted, and damnation for those not. Slavers by tradition, Paragon leads the world in the manufacture of androids. Arrogant and obscenely wealthy, those technocrats worship the forgotten, especially relics of the fallen Overlords empire. They steal, repaint, and parade the scraps as novelties. Everyone does it, but none so brazenly as the Paragonians. Their noses root in every husk of empire, every shadow that whispers of profit or progress. And yet, Paragon also forges some of the finest implants on the planet, and, oddly enough, at prices that won’t ruin you outright. So they’re… tolerable. In their way. But working under a Paragon mage? That’s another story. Especially one who’s stepped into the wider world for the first time, only to discover that his his tricks and three university degrees don’t buy him a single breath of respect. Out here, a passerby won’t kiss his boots, but kick his teeth in for a crooked glance. So, it promises to be one hell of a circus. [[Back ->Work]]

“You two, knock it off!” Ezekiel cuts in, still distracted with the droids. “Even I follow Pavel’s lead. He’s got two expeditions under his belt, one reaching the Capital. His military background is… unique. I trust his judgment.” “Fine,” you nod, turning back to Pavel. “You’re the boss. As long as your orders make sense.” The lizard rumbles like a growl, then turns and stalks back to the terminal. [["Exhausting." ->Mercury2]]

“Well, you could say you’ve already received your advance,” Ezekiel nods toward the dead mercenary’s gear. “What I want are the Overlord’s remains. Any treasure we find along the way, we split equally. In the old days, rulers were buried with their regalia, their instruments of power. Artifacts of immense might. Priceless, I daresay... Also... If you help me deliver the remains back to Paragon safely and sound... The scientists of the Amethyst Tower will not spare the rewards for such brave mercenaries. You may even be granted citizenship... But alas, these are just my thoughts.” [[“And how many of us will there be in total?” ->Team]]

As you approach the players’ table, you feel Big D’s gaze on you. The fat man shakes his head slowly, a silent warning, his eyes locked on yours. “What do you want?” asks the cowboy-hatted guy puffing on a cigar. His hand rests on his belt, right beside the dead merc’s cleaver. Across from him, another player spins the revolver’s cylinder, presses it to his temple. Click. Empty. He sets it back down in the center of the table, next to a couple of half-drained bottles. The gamblers rattle dice in their cups, slam them upside down, and peek underneath. {(if: $Mind is true) [You size it up quickly: these bastards are armed to the teeth and strung tighter than a wire. They barely notice you though, more worried about each other. But you catch it: two of them are playing in cahoots.]} “I’d like to ask you gentlemen to return the belongings of my late colleague. The big guy who just blew his brains out in your little game.” “Maybe I should suck you off while I’m at it?” sneers the second man, half his forehead nothing but bare metal skull. His lone eye glares at his rivals, one hand resting on the grip of a sawed-off. “Three twos,” he announces. Another one, face hidden under a gas mask, turns toward you: “You want his stuff? Sit down and win it.” [[Tell them the mage who hired the brute will burn them alive if they don’t hand it over ->PlayersThreat]] [[Try to take the gear by force ->PlayersAttack]] {(if: $Mind is true) [[Call them out for cheating ->PlayersCheating]]}

“No luck with politeness, then bad manners it is.” You snatch up a bottle from the floor, test its weight, and hurl it full-force at the gas-mask guy’s head. You follow with a savage strike: the butt of your revolver snaps into the metal-headed man’s ear and sends him slumping. The cowboy leaps up, unhooks his cleaver and charges at you. {(if: $Body is true) [You meet his lunge, catch his wrist, and with a quick motion snap the joint. He screams, but you’re already moving: you grab his chest and toss him over yourself, slamming him down onto the stirring metal-headed man.]}{(if: $Mind is true) [You don’t trade raw force — you use his momentum. You step out of the line of attack, hook the cowboy’s elbow, yank and shove him forward, tripping him. He lands right He lands right on top of the metal-headed one that started to rise.]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [You catch his arm and throw him across yourself, onto the man who was getting up.]} A stomp in the face knocks the cowboy out cold. The remaining opponent, the ape-wolf mutant, snaps an SMG into his hands and levels it at you. {(if: $Eyes is true) [You raise your pistol and fire. A round clips his weapon, sending the muzzle spinning away; the burst sprays into the plastered wall.]}{(else:) [You kick the edge of the table, the far side flips up and smacks the mutant’s hands, flipping his weapon. A short burst peels paint and plaster from the ceiling. A shot to the leg folds him over, bleeding and howling.]} The recovered gas-mask man is back on one knee, training his pistol on you. {(if: $Eyes is true) [One more shot knocks the gun from his hand. He hisses in pain, but when he sees a barrel pointed at his head, he throws his hands up in surrender.]}{(else:) [You barely have time to react. Then, without warning, an unseen force hoists the man bodily into the air. He thuds down onto an overturned table, is flung aside and slams against the wall: knocked out. Ezekiel did not stand idly by after all.]} All your opponents are neutralized and no one is dead. Still, Big D’s glare promises you problems. Only Vincent, watching the scuffle from the shadows, smiles slyly. [[Grab the gear and get out ->Success]]

“Play? With you clowns?” you snort. “Two of you are making eyes at each other like it’s a goddamn gay club.” “What!?” roars the last of the four, a mutant hybrid, something between a hairy ape and a wolf. “Yeah, those two right there: tin skull and cowboy wannabe,” now you can lace truth with just enough lie. “I also figured the faces looked familiar. I've seen them here before, playing the same game...” The mercs leap to their feet, weapons drawn, like some twisted saloon showdown. They’re shouting, spitting accusations. Big D yells something from behind the bar, clearly pissed. The tension is at a breaking point, but blood hasn’t spilled yet. [[Fan the flames, push them over the edge ->PlayersShowdown]] [[Slip away with the dead man’s bag while they’re distracted ->Steal]]

You don’t hesitate: your revolver clears the holster and two rounds end the lives of the “lucky” mercs. {(if: $Mind is true) [Knowing they’d been cheating others in a game where the stakes were death, you feel no pity or regret.]} You strip the still-warm bodies and return to the paragonian. Your shoulders sag under the weight of loot-stuffed bags and a fair haul of credits. Their weapons and armor you leave behind. Selling battered jackets, improvised rifles and sidearms as old as the Overlords’ war would cost more time than they’re worth. “Clever,” Ezekiel notes. “And clean. I’ll admit, I expected a different outcome.” [["Well then, I suppose it’s time we talked business?" ->EzekielWork]]

Loaded with loot and somewhat inebriated, the mercenaries are unable to offer you much resistance. {(if: $Body is true) [You smash their skulls together, and they collapse to the ground.]} You strip them and return to the paragonian. Your shoulders sag under the weight of loot-stuffed bags and a fair haul of credits. Their weapons and armor you leave behind. Selling battered jackets, improvised rifles and sidearms as old as the Overlords’ war would cost more time than they’re worth. “Clever,” Ezekiel notes. “And clean. I’ll admit, I expected a different outcome.” [["Well then, I suppose it’s time we talked business?" ->EzekielWork]]

Five minutes later, a gunshot cracks. After another five, a second shot. Soon the doors of the Howling Pit swing open, and into the alley step two mercenaries, each dragging a corpse. {(if: $Mind is true) [You recognize them as the two who’d been exchanging glances at the table.]} One wears a cowboy hat, a cleaver at his belt and a homemade rifle under his arm. The other, metal skull gleaming, twin sawed-offs strapped to his hips. [[Open fire ->PlayersKill]] [[Try to knock them out ->PlayersKnock]]

You yank your revolver free and fire into the ceiling. Stupid and reckless, but it works. The mercs panic and open fire on each other, while you duck under the table. The gunfight is short and vicious. Three of the doomed gamblers hit the floor bleeding out. The last one standing: the cigar-smoking cowboy, kneels, clutching a gut wound with bloody hands. You grab one of the surviving bottles off the floor and smash it over his skull, dropping him into unconsciousness. [["I’m magnificent." ->Lier]]

You lean on the edge of the table and speak low, but clear: “The things that idiot lost are the property of the mage Ezekiel. He offers you to give them back without a fuss.” “Hah, now he threatens us,” snorts the fourth player: a twisted humanoid, part shaggy ape, part wolf. “We play a game where the stake is life. You think anyone here’s afraid of death?” “And listen, kid,” says the cowboy, blowing a ring of smoke, “a gambler’s debt is sacred. We’re in a Vanguard bar, and they don’t like sacrilege. So you’d better not act the tough guy here.”(set: $Chance1 to (either: "1", "2")) “Sure. While you’re inside the Howling Pit, nothing will touch you,” you answer. “But the winner has to leave eventually. And outside he’ll meet the Paragon mage and his people. You know, paragonians have no imagination. They just turn their debtors into androids.” The players exchange nervous looks. “Screw the gear,” the metal-skull growls into his fist. “I’m not afraid to die. But I don’t want my brain lobotomized or my soul pulled out through my ass.” “This mage can go suck himself. He is not getting my junk,” the ape-wolf mutant says boldly. “We agreed to play until the end. Let the winner sort it with the mage.” “No, let’s clear this up now,” the cowboy shakes his head. “I can’t play properly until this is settled. I can’t concentrate.” {(if: $Chance1 is "1") [“Grow a pair, why don’t you!” the gas-mask man snaps. “Play, don’t float in the clouds. You'll have time for that later.”{(if: $Chance1 is "2")[“We don’t need any trouble with a mage. Take his stuff and fuck off.”]} {(if: $Chance1 is "1") [He laughs nastily.]}{(if: $Chance1 is "2")[The cowboy unhooks the cleaver from his belt and pushes the driver’s bag toward you with his boot.]} {(if: $Chance1 is "1") [Seems your threats aren’t working.]}{(if: $Chance1 is "2")[Surprisingly, your threats took hold.]} {(if: $Chance1 is "1") [[Try to take the gear by force ->PlayersAttack]]}{(if: $Chance1 is "2") [["Smart choice." ->Lier]]}

Together with the mage, you step out of the Howling Pit. Ezekiel pulls a pack of cigarettes from his robe, lights one, then offers you another. [[Wait in silence ->PlayersOutside]] [[Try to squeeze out details about the Forbidden Lands expedition ->EzekielExtra]]

“Another thing. The trailer isn’t just for drones and supplies,” Ezekiel explains, pointing to the dish on its roof, the one you had mistaken for a satellite antenna. “It is a radar, calibrated to detect magical distortions and linked to the onboard computer. By the heavens, it was the single most ruinous expense of this entire enterprise. Keep an eye on it at all times, for should we stumble into an anomaly unawares, our venture ends at once. As do our lives.” “I’ll remember,” you nod. “Good,” the mage gives you a long, appraising look. “If we are finished with the vehicle, let us move on… to you.” With deliberate effort, Ezekiel drags a heavy crate out of the trailer and sets it before you.{(if: $Body is true) [ Then, with even more care, he unveils that strange glass capsule filled with green fluid.]}{(else:) [ Beside it he places a small black case you hadn’t noticed earlier.]} [[“Oh, I adore gifts.” ->Armor]]

You whip your fist forward, twisting your torso for maximum force, aiming right for that smug reptilian mug. But your body freezes mid-swing, locked against your will. A jolt of magical paralysis pins you in place. Your fist hangs suspended, just shy of his snout. Pavel smirks. “Like I said: empty head. You signed the magical contract that keeps us from harming each other,” he exhales heavily. “Shame I signed it too. Otherwise you’d be picking your teeth out of the pavement, pup.” Ezekiel finally looks up from the droids, interjecting lazily: “Enough kindergarden nonsense! We’re all bound to the same purpose. Even I follow Pavel’s orders. He’s survived two runs into the Forbidden Lands, including the Capital itself. I trust his judgment and experience.” Pavel steps back but keeps his glare fixed on you.(set: $PavelGood to it -1) {(if: $SniperTalked is false) [[Clench your teeth and stay silent -> EndIntroTalked]]}{(if: $SniperTalked is false) [[Clench your teeth and stay silent -> EndIntro]]} {(if: $SniperTalked is true) [[Toss in one last jab -> EndIntroTalked]]}{(if: $SniperTalked is false) [[Toss in one last jab -> EndIntro]]}

The fox gives a slow, enigmatic smile. “You’re a lone nomad from a dead clan. Barely a man, still green. Sharp enough, but you’ve hardly tasted life,” his voice drones like a sermon. {(if: $Revenge is true) [“Chasing, prowling, hunting, never finding rest.]}{(if: $Revenge is true and $Vincent is false) [ All to get to someone important, all for a deed not noble.]}{(if: $Legend is true) [“Ambition gnaws at you, a thorn lodged deep.]}{(if: $Life is true) [“And fear clings to you. Lost, searching for a place to belong.]} You’ve come to the city fresh, probably driving your own machine, which means you can keep a vehicle alive if it breaks down on the road.” He exhales again, smoke swirling like a veil, then studies you anew. “A revolver on your hip… {(if: $Eyes is true) [and by those altered eyes, by the way your hand rests close to the holster, you’ve shot enough times to know what you’re doing. Am I wrong?]}{(else:) [but whether you can truly use it, well, that remains to be seen.]}{(if: $Body is true) [You are more brawler than gunslinger, I’d wager.]}{(if: $Body is true and $LostMachete is true) [ That machete of yours, it was never meant for clearing brush, was it?]}{(if: $Mind is true) [A familiar tool, or just a clapper to scare people away? With your kind, it’s always hard to tell. Ordinary shell on the outside, a labyrinth within. Eyes darting around, seizing every detail. What is it? A mutation? Neural rewiring? Or implants buried deep in your skull?”]} {(if: $Eyes is true) [“Right. [[But not entirely.->Vincent3]]”]}{(if: $Body is true) [“Close enough. [[Though you missed a detail or two.->Vincent3]]”]}{(if: $Mind is true) [“Nervous system mutation, I believe. Keen eye, but [[you’re not flawless in your deductions.->Vincent3]]”]}

“Not just any ghost!” the mage exclaims indignantly. “Vilad — one of the first Overlords, who helped unite the world over a thousand years ago!” “First, tenth, what’s the difference?” Mercury asks flatly. “What could some ancient corpse possibly know that’s worth all this trouble?” “Philistines!” Ezekiel huffs. “What do they even teach you in schools these days!? The Lords weren’t just mages or rulers. They were like demigods: immortal, ageless, gathering knowledge over centuries. Their will shaped this world! Imagine the secrets of ancient magic a being like that might possess!” “I never went to school,” you shrug. “I was taught by averyone in the clan who knew something worth passing on.” “Same here,” Mercury nods. “Well, we’ve got our employer figured out: ‘all for the sake of knowledge’, blah blah blah… What about you two?” She eyes you and Pavel. “Well, Pavel’s a complicated and simple mess at the same time. But you, $Name. Why’d you decide to risk your neck with this merry little crew?” [[What is my goal? What should I tell them? ->ReallyName]] [["Maybe you should tell us about yourself first." ->ReallyMercury]] [["I don’t know, Pavel’s motives aren’t that obvious to me. Our grumpy captain’s quite a mystery." ->ReallyPavel]]

“Alright,” Mercury nods. “I’m interested in the Lost Capital itself. That place isn’t just special... it’s… how do I even put it… You can’t say you’ve seen everything life has to offer if you haven’t been there. Terrible and beautiful all at once. It changes the fate of everyone who sets foot inside, even just once. I want to see what it has in store for me.” [["You are just tired of living, huh?" ->ReallyMercury1]] [["That’s… quite a motivation. I expected something else." ->ReallyMercury1]]

“I didn’t expect you to understand,” Mercury shrugs. “The Capital calls to me, and I’m answering the call… Anyway, I told you about myself. Your turn now. What made you follow us into the Forbidden Lands?” [[What is my goal, anyway? What should I tell them? ->ReallyName]] [["Hold up, before I answer, I’d actually like to hear what our captain has to say." ->ReallyPavel2]]

Money — [["I’m honestly kind of boring. I’m here for the same reason: money. Nothing more, nothing less." ->Money]] Opportunity — [["You could say I’m just going with the flow. There’s nothing left for me out there… but now I’ve got a strange kind of opportunity, and I decided to grab it." ->Life]] {(if: $Revenge is true) [Revenge —]}{(if: $Revenge is true) [["It’s complicated. I need to find someone, someone who owes me a lot. But to do what I have planned, I need strength. I need money and connections. And I believe this mission can give me both." ->Vengeance]]}{(if: $Legend is true) [Glory —]}{(if: $Legend is true) [["I don’t want to die in a bed or in some hospital, eaten alive by routine and time. This is my chance to become something greater." ->Legend]]}{(if: $Life is true) [I don’t know —]}{(if: $Life is true) [["Honestly… I don’t really have an answer. I didn’t even like this plan to begin with. But somehow, I let myself get convinced, and here I am." ->Life]]} {(if: $Life is false) [I don’t know —]}{(if: $Life is false) [["Honestly… I don’t really have an answer. I didn’t even like this plan to begin with. But somehow, I let myself get convinced, and here I am." ->Life]]}

“Why did he accept the job? Especially since, by his generous assessment, we’re not exactly cut out for this mission.” “Money,” Pavel answers plainly. [["Money?" ->ReallyPavel1]] [["That’s it? No tragic story about a ‘final job,’ sick relatives, or a dream of retiring from merc work?” ->ReallyPavel1]] [["Well, that’s kind of anticlimactic." ->ReallyPavel1]]

“Money. Just money,” the lizard repeats, just as calmly. “The rest is none of your damn business. We’re not friends, we’re not comrades, we’re just traveling together. No reason to dig into each other’s lives.” “Fine, keep your secrets,” you mutter. [[And what is my goal? What should I tell them? ->ReallyName]] [["Mercury, why don’t you share yourself first?" ->ReallyMercury]] [["You're mostly right. Let's talk about business instead. Ezekiel, how long will the drive take? What does the map say?" ->WorkTalk]]

“I didn’t choose to come here. Or, rather, that wasn’t my choice. You forced me. And the others, likely as well.” "From the start you were useful to me only as sacrifices for the ritual," the mage shrugs in agreement. "I needed people like you. Lucky enough to survive the route with me, but not smart enough to understand the true purpose of this little expedition. A few tricks on the mind, and three volunteers shrug off their doubts and are ready to risk their lives. Yes, it's dirty. But I had no other choice. To lead you as prisoners, or to keep you under constant mental control would have been too messy." [["This whole expedition reeks of hypocrisy and self-gain." ->Reason1]] [["And now what?" ->Next]]

The mage grins. “I won’t deny it. Order restored, under my humble advisory, of course. And why shouldn’t it be?” For an instant his face twists with rage. "I'm nearly three hundred years old, boy. They used to call men like me Paladins of the Overlords. I saw what the world once was. I saw fertile lands, the flowering of magic, abundance and utopia. And I watched, powerless to change it, as it rotted away. As heirs tore the Empire apart like starving dogs. As this city, my home, turned into cursed rubble. I decided I'd do whatever it takes to fix that great injustice that fell on all of us, and here I am." [["You are just a lying dog." ->Reason]] [["And then?" ->Next]]

You dive back into cover, yanking a fresh magazine into your pistol. {(if: $Mind is true) [You hear short bursts from Pavel’s rifle, then the heavy booms of Mercury’s hand-cannon. A moment later, an eerie hiss, followed by a thunderous clap like the crack of a storm. ]}The floor, bones, columns, even the walls around you explode as if struck by a colossal shotgun. The Watcher’s gathered shrapnel is unleashed in every direction, shredding anything exposed within dozens of meters. [[Leap from cover and empty the magazine into the bastard ->FinalBlast]] [[Check on the others ->Check]]

“And not only that!” the mage bursts out. “What interests me most are the remains of the ancient Overlord himself. Though, to be clear, not the bones themselves, but the knowledge still bound within them. If I can deliver those remains back to the Amethyst Tower Academy in Paragon, my colleagues will use them to reach across the veil, commune with the spirit of that very Overlord, and record his life story firsthand! They will not spare the rewards for your help.” He even claps his hands, delight sparkling in his eyes at the thought. “And then,” he adds with a venomous grin, “All those smug book and paper rats, the ones who sneered at my expedition, saying that I’d stuffed my head with fairy tales, they’ll be forced to eat their own damn hats! Of course, relics and treasures are just as welcome. Whatever we uncover in the tomb or on the road, we’ll divide equally. In the old days, rulers were buried with their regalia, their instruments of power. Artifacts of immense might. Priceless, I daresay.” [[“Sounds too good to be true. Surely such a place, would be heavily guarded. What do you expect us to face?” ->Danger?]] [[“Tell me more about the team.” ->Team]]

By the time the sun grazes the horizon, you finally see it: the city. Lunard, glittering with lights against the sky of dusk. A convoy of three jeeps roars past, but when you raise a weary arm in plea, they don’t so much as slow down. [[Best pick up the pace. it’s suicide to linger in the wilds after dark. ->Move]]

“He’s already gossiping like my old granny and polishing off a crate of beer in one go.” The lizard bares sharp triangular teeth and lumbers toward you. {(if: $Body is true) [He isn’t much more muscular than you, but he’s a head taller.]}{(else:) [He’s a full head taller than you, and about one-and-a-half times broader across the shoulders.]}{(if: $Mind is true) [Despite his bulk he moves with a soldier’s economy: there’s a military cadence to every step. This is not a man of the rag-and-bone guard, he served somewhere that taught discipline.]} “This little runt’s got the nerve to mouth off,” he hisses. “How many runs into the Forbidden Lands have you done? How many contracts closed, rookie?” “Oh! I’ve got six!” the girl chimes, bouncing. “Twenty-two confirmed kills.” The lizard turns on her with a look. “Mercury?” he growls. “Yeah?” “Shut it.” [[“Don't give me that crap. I've already been hired.” ->NotYourBusines]] [[“None. I’m a nomad. Never thought I’d work under anyone but my clan.” ->AmaNomad]]

Ezekiel steps closer to the coffin, striding across the burning lines. "Look beyond the veil at the world you've left," he intones to the statue, spreading his arms wide. "Your hour is past. Your home lies ruined. At dawn no voice rises from the south. At noon the east gives no call. The west breathes only silence at night. Only the north howls in the twilight." Whether it's the lack of air, or the mage reaching toward forces no mortal should touch, the eye in the statue ignites turquoise and a faint, distant chorus of whispering voices fills your ears. "And to the northern star, come alive. To the beacon that I will kindle!" the magician's voice climbs to a shout. "Flame of souls that will lend you light, and clothe you again in flesh and blood!" The chamber shakes with a scream. A death-wail not human, not of this earth. {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [You wrench your head sideways and see Mercury, engulfed in turquoise fire. But she doesn’t burn: her clothes, her skin, her flesh and bones crumble into ash, starting at her hands and feet. Her shriek rattles your skull, but Ezekiel chants on, deaf to her torment.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [You wrench your head sideways and see Pavel, seized by turquoise fire. But he doesn’t burn: his scales, his flesh and bone disintegrate into dust, starting from hands and feet. His scream drills through your ears, but Ezekiel chants on, deaf to his agony.]} The soul tears free from the collapsing body, hovering above the sarcophagus as a chaotic, flickering orb of light. [[Fight to break free ->RuinFinale]] [[Wait and pray ->RuinedFinal]]

You strain every muscle, every sinew, clenching your jaw until your teeth hurt, fighting the invisible grip. {(if: $Body is true) [But even your superhuman strength isn’t enough to tear the mage’s bonds. All you manage is a twitch of a leg and a flicker of a hand before the ties squeeze you harder. Your efforts are meaningless.]}{(if: $Body is false) [You’re weak, frail and tired. Agility and speed mean nothing now. Your body barely obeys.]} “I bind you by your names! Hear them, answer true!” the mage continues, reading the spell without even noticing your struggle. {(if: $Body is false) [You jerk in the bonds, trying to slip free. You realize your hand still clamps the enchanted pistol. This is your only chance. You force the weapon up, wrenching your wrist until the joints crack. You aim with pain.]} {(if: $Body is false) [[Shoot the soul-cluster->RuinFinaleSoul]]}{(if: $Body is true) [["Fuck! If you, damn Overlords, were truly so great, be my salvation!!!"->RuinFinaleBody]]} {(if: $Body is false) [[Shoot the statue’s eye->RuinFinaleEye]]}

The walls begin to tremble, cracks crawl across them and dust falls from the ceiling. “Hear them, answer true! Lord of Flame, Lord of Sunset, Grey Terror, Vilad, I cry! Come forth and claim —” the mage abruptly stops. The soul-cluster at the room’s centre pulses faster and faster, spitting jets of turquoise fire. The flames on the floor whip as though an invisible wind is trying to snuff them out. Cracks split the crystal in the statue’s helm and spread through the stone. “No!!! What’s happening!?!” Ezekiel flings up his hands, drawing strange symbols in the air, trying to stabilise the ritual. You see him sink to his knees as though crushed by the power he tried to command. The flames rise higher and burn brighter with each passing second. The hem of his robe ignites, the fire crawling across his body. “You’ve ruined the circle! Curse you!!!” [["If I’m doomed to die, I am taking you with me!" ->FinaleEzekielDead]]

The walls begin to tremble, cracks crawl across them and dust falls from the ceiling. “Hear them, answer true! Lord of Flame, Lord of Sunset, Grey Terror, Vilad, I cry! Come forth and claim —” the mage abruptly stops. You fire. The recoil knocks the weapon from your weakened grip. The bullet leaves a trail of blue light in the air and strikes the crystal in the statue's helmet. A ringing sound echoes through the hall, like that of a broken wineglass. The soul-cluster at the room’s center starts pulsing faster and faster, spitting jets of turquoise fire. The flames on the floor whip as though an invisible wind is trying to snuff them out. Cracks split the crystal in the statue’s helm and spread through the stone. “What!?!” Ezekiel flings up his hands, drawing strange symbols in the air, trying to stabilize the ritual. You see him sink to his knees, as though crushed by the power he tried to command. The flames rise higher and burn brighter with each passing second. The hem of his robe ignites, the fire crawling across his body, turning the sorcerer to ashes. “Curse you!!!” [["If I’m doomed to die, I am taking you with me!" ->FinaleEzekielDead]]

The walls begin to tremble, cracks crawl across them and dust falls from the ceiling. “Hear them, answer true! Lord of Flame, Lord of Sunset, Grey Terror, Vilad, I cry! Come forth and claim —” You fire. The recoil knocks the weapon from your weakening fingers. The bullet leaves a streak of blue light through the air, piercing the strange cluster in the room’s centre and punching a hole through it. A crystalline chime echoes, like a wineglass shattering. “No!!!” Ezekiel flings up his hands, drawing strange symbols in the air, trying to stabilise the ritual. The cluster pulses wildly, spitting jets of turquoise flame. Cracks crawl across the crystal in the statue’s helm and through the stone itself. “What!?!” Ezekiel flings up his hands, drawing strange symbols in the air, trying to stabilize the ritual. You see him sink to his knees, as though crushed by the power he tried to command. The flames rise higher and burn brighter with each passing second. The hem of his robe ignites, the fire crawling across his body, turning the sorcerer to ashes. “Curse you!!!” [["If I’m doomed to die, I will take you with me!" ->FinaleEzekielDead]]

You spin on your heel and bolt, ready to run blindly. But you stop after a pitiful few steps, bound hand and foot. Ezekiel snorts, watching your pathetic struggle against the invisible hold. "{(if: $Mind is true) [I thought you were smarter, $Name. ]}An attempt to flee. To abandon the squad in our hour of need and doom the mission..." he clicks his tongue. "Our contract does not approve of that. Haven’t you realized I prepared for everything? Even for you trying to kill me or tear the covenant apart?" He raises his hand, curling it into a fist, and you pivot back toward him, frozen, unable to move. “Admittedly, I miscalculated the Watchers. I didn’t expect them to still be here. But in essence that changed nothing.” Catching his breath, the mage straightens to his full height again. “Pavel, plant the charges. And let us take cover.” [["I have no idea what you plan to do to us, but I’m not going to be a sheep led to slaughter!!!" ->TrueCryptAlt]]

You peer into the cabin: music spills out from the speakers. Though the faint reek of old rags and something rotten hangs in the air, it looks tidier than the outside suggests. {(if: $Eyes is true) [Your sharpened senses catch an old, nearly faded tang of blood.]} Worn leather seats and scuffed panels have been cleaned, but pale stains remain. Polished wood trim and glass instrument covers shine. Where a radio should sit, a tablet is bolted into the dash: a jury-rigged mission computer. Manual gearbox. Judging by the speedometer, this carriage won't go faster than a hundred. {(if: $Mind is true) [Everything points to a careful restoration and retrofit. And to a darker history. Someone was killed here. Shot through the windshield: that’s why the glass was replaced, and the cabin scrubbed clean.]}(set: $Salon to true) {(if: $Hood is false) [[Check under the hood ->Hood]]} {(if: $Salon is true and $Hood is true) [["Only the trailer left." ->Trailer]]}

Thank you for playing through this little story, dear reader. I hope you enjoyed this small showcase of my writing skills. I don’t plan to continue this tale, so instead I invite you to explore the consequences of your choices. [[Confirm ->Score1]]

{(if: $Eyes is true) [At the beginning of your journey, you chose the mutation of senses, and ]}{(if: $Body is true) [At the beginning of your journey, you chose the mutation of your muscular system, and ]}{(if: $Mind is true) [ At the beginning of your journey, you chose the mutation of your mind and nervous system: a canonical choice for this story. And ]}{(if: $Legend is true) [a motivation to become a "Legend"]}{(if: $Life is true) [motivation to keep living while you're alive, without striving for the impossible.]}{(if: $Revenge is true and $Mind is false) [the motivation to find and kill the Dark Wanderer. Which is the canonical motivation of the hero in this story.]}{(if: $Revenge is true and $Mind is true) [motivation to find and kill the Dark Wanderer. Which is also part of the canonical path.]} On your way to Lunard, you faced an ambush by mutants. {(if: $Wounded1 is true) [You fought them off, but not without injury.]}{(if: $Wounded1 is false) [You fought them off almost unscathed. Luck was definitely on your side.]} In the end, you made it to the city. {(if: $Wanderer is false) [You stayed focused on your goal, ignoring distractions along the way. ]}{(if: $Wanderer is false and $Card1 is true) [You were curious and rarely missed a chance to ask questions or investigate. ]}{(if: $Wanderer is true) [You learned of a plague that ravaged through Lunard from a particularly talkative Black Vanguard agent.]} {(if: $Energy is true or $Healed is true) [You weren’t afraid to drink strange liquids. Then again, it wasn’t you who had to suffer the consequences, was it? ]}{(if: $Vincent is true) [You also forged an alliance with Vincent, the recruiter, who will one day help $Name track down the Wanderer.]} Yes, you chose the name $Name, and it stuck with you ever since. You met Ezekiel, passed his so-called “test,” and joined his expedition. {(if: $Mind is true or $Eyes is true) [He gave you an enchanted pistol — his personal sidearm from the age when he served the Overlords, though he conveniently neglected to tell you that.]}{(if: $Body is true) [He gave you a living sword as your weapon.]} You crossed the Forbidden Lands and reached the Lost Capital.{(if: $TitanClue is true) [ There, you encountered a still-functioning Titan, and barely escaped. That was the first crack in Ezekiel’s mask, when he used magic to hide your presence.]} You breached the citadel, where your team faced the Watchers: ancient golems capable of wielding magic. {(if: $Worst is true) [Your combat performance, or lack thereof, certainly made an impression, but you pushed through. ]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [Unfortunately, Mercury fell in that battle, along with the drones and droids. The Watchers couldn’t be fooled by visual camouflage; they sensed minds, not shapes. ]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [Thanks to your actions, the team emerged victorious, defeating the Watchers without losing any crew. The drones and droids don’t count; they had no names, no voice. ]}{(if: $Mercurybrother to false) [Even though you only delayed her fate, Mercury learned the truth about her brother and stopped blaming him for his ambition and recklessness.]} The true purpose of this expedition was to resurrect and enslave one of the ancient Overlords. You were merely fuel for the ritual. Ezekiel manipulated your mind from the start, erasing doubts and strengthening his lies with psychic influence. {(if: $NotTime is true) [But during the fight with the Watchers, you noticed cracks in his story. ]}{(if: $NotTime is true and $Ruin is false) [You didn’t act on it in time, but you were saved by sheer circumstance, and by the pistol he’d given you. Its ancient properties disrupted the ritual. ]}{(if: $NotTime is true and $Ruin is true) [And you used that knowledge, sabotaging Ezekiel’s ritual at the crucial moment. ]}{(if: $NotTime is false) [You were saved by sheer circumstance: and by the pistol he’d given you. Its ancient properties disrupted the ritual.]} {(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [You became the expedition’s sole survivor. Pavel met a fate worse than death.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [You became the sole survivor. Your comrades met a fate arguably worse than death.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is false and $Ruin is true) [You not only survived, but you also managed to save grumpy old Pavel. Sadly, the third member of your group met a fate far worse than death.] } They say that anyone who returns from the Lost Capital either gains immeasurable riches… or power beyond imagination. You may well be one of the few exceptions. Ezekiel met an ironic end, but part of his plan succeeded: the ancient mage returned to this world. Not in flesh, but as a wandering spirit, ripped from his cosmic exile. Powerless but ancient, he will likely try to “fix” what his descendants have done to this world. Your own personal haunting ghost. And he will need your help. {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false and $Ruin is true and $PavelGood is >= 2) [But you won’t bear that burden alone. Pavel, the mercenary you saved, now respects you deeply. He’ll travel with you. At least until he feels his debt is repaid.] } {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false and $Ruin is true and $PavelGood is >= 2) [You’ve reached the True Ending.]}

You lean out from cover. Your vision swims, flashes of shielding around the floating horrors sear your eyes. Still, you steady your aim on the glowing eye of the nearest Watcher. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! The pistol bucks in your grip like a maddened beast, bullets leave a fading trail of blue light in the air. The cacophony of battle pounds against your eardrums. The first shot strikes, the second one too, and arcs of lightning splinter across the creature’s barrier. Third, the invisible wall it built around itself bursts. The fourth, half its head shears away as if sliced by a blade. The thing, machine or mockery of life, screams in a voice not meant for mortal throats, writhing in agony. The second Watcher sweeps in to shield its damaged kin, intercepting the line of fire from your allies. A shriek like an ultrasonic blade rips through your skull, nearly tearing you into unconsciousness.{(if: $Eyes is true) [Then silence falls. Warm wetness runs from your ears, but it doesn’t matter. You’re alive. And your eyes are still locked on the Watcher.]} [["Die!" ->Shoot1]] [[Throw a grenade ->Granade]]

You lock your sights on the target and squeeze the trigger. The glowing eye of the wounded horror bursts apart as the bullet rips clean through its skull. The halo behind the second Watcher spins into a furious whirl. Dozens of bullets lodged in its shield begin to tremble violently, and from the floor rises a storm of shattered bones and fragments of stone. {(if: $Mind is true) [Pavel ducks behind a column to reload, but not the android: like the fearless machine it is, it stands its ground in the open, showering the foe with a hail of bullets. ]}You notice Ezekiel, the very man you’re supposed to protect, standing frozen in the open, unmoving, not even trying to take cover. [[Fire at the last Watcher ->Shoot2]] [[Take cover and reload ->Reload]] [[Take cover and try to snap Ezekiel out of his stupor ->Stupor]]

You level the pistol at the creature’s glowing eye and pull the trigger. Its shield ripples with blue lightning and shatters. Click. The slide locks back. You squeeze again. The chamber is empty. [["Fuck." -> GameOver1]]

“By the heavens, that’s not necessary,” the mage waves his hand dismissively. “Just bring me Eric’s things. Your late predecessor. How you do it doesn’t matter. Use your imagination.” “What kind of test is this supposed to be?” you mutter. “You’re either strong enough to solve it with brute force, or smart enough to get what you want without dirtying yourself. Either way suits me,” Ezekiel shrugs. [["Fine. I’ll get your things… what the hell do I keep getting myself into?” ->Players]] {(if: $Mind is true) [["Alright, then I’ll show some imagination right now. We wait until there are only two left at that table. Then we move in." ->PlayersWait]]}{(else:) [["Alright, then I’ll show some imagination right now. We wait until there’s only one left. Then we move in." ->PlayersWait]]}

The mage plucks a hair from your head and rolls it between his palms, muttering words in some language you don’t recognize. Then he fixes you with an expectant look. “I swear to keep silent about the details of this mission..." you pause for a second, then add: "Until it is complete.” “Splendid.” He gestures, and the strand of hair glows faintly blue, floats up, and coils around your throat like a garrote before sinking under your skin, leaving behind an itchy tingle. “Great, now spill it." “Let me start at the beginning,” Ezekiel clears his throat. “You see, I am a devoted scholar of late history, much of my life spent studying the [[Overlords->WarLords]] and their fates. In my research, I uncovered mention of an ancient tomb belonging to one of them. Not the Overlords who launched the war of annihilation that threw //our// world into utter chaos, but one of the old Lords, who ruled in the age of sword and sorcery. My expedition’s purpose is simple: to reach this tomb in the Lost Capital, a forgotten city at the very heart of the Forbidden Lands. I know where it lies. I have the map, the transport, the supplies, and, most importantly, the knowledge. All I lack is a team.” [[“So what, you’re some kind of archaeologist? Who’s footing the bill?” ->Mission]] [[“You want to loot a tomb? For what, a pile of ancient bones?” ->Bones]] [[“The Lost Capital? Never heard of it. Hell, I don’t even know much about the Forbidden Lands, to be honest.” ->Info]]

You stay quiet, eyes on the road. The others keep chatting: Mercury tossing out jokes, Pavel grumbling, Ezekiel giving yet another lecture about “the good old lost times” and the Empire. But everyone knows: the laughter will fade once the Forbidden Lands appear on the horizon. [[Keep driving ->LostCapital]]

You tear through the haze and push forward. Fingers close around the hilt at your belt, and the sting of the blade’s tendrils biting into your palm shocks you fully awake. A surge, your heart pounding, blood flooding with fire. With a furious roar you swing the sword for a crushing strike. A heartbeat later the world detonates in white. A telekinetic blast slams into you like a giant’s swat, hurling you off your feet. Your back cracks against a stone column before you hit the ground. Anyone else would be dead, or at least knocked out. You’re already up, moving aside. The spot where you fell implodes into dust and bone shards, crushed by invisible force. Another strike, where Mercury was. She rolls clear just in time. Gunfire erupts: the second android drops its cargo and, together with Pavel, opens fire, but their bullets get caught by the invisible shields of constructs, never touching their marks. [[Dive for cover behind the columns ->BodyCover]] [[Get up and charge again ->BodyCloseCombat]]

After a few seconds of silence you both break into loud laughter. “Yeah, yeah,” the slug says. “Good joke, I know.” From the wall detaches another bio-instrument, like a fat, swollen intestine. It slithers to the control panel and spits a small bone plate, slick with slime, onto it. “Here, this is your pass, nomad. Hit the Howling Pit. You’ll find recruiters there who’ll have work for a man like you. {(if: $Wounded is true)[And some pills to patch you proper. ]}That'll be forty credits.” [["Forty credits? What the hell for?" -> SlugPong4]] [[Lay the bills on the table: "Of course, you’ll squeeze cash out of every newcomer." -> SlugPong5]]

You manage to quietly lift the dead merc’s belongings while the players are busy screaming at each other. Nobody notices you slip out of the bar into the alley, where Ezekiel is already waiting. “Clean work,” he remarks. [["Well then, I suppose it’s time we talked business?" ->EzekielWork]]

You yank the injector from your pocket and slam it into your forearm, the long needle punching through the thick fabric of your suit. Your veins ignite with icy fire, and at last your thoughts fall into order. The noise retreats, clarity takes its place. {(if: $Mind is true) [Whatever these creatures are, their shields can’t be broken by ordinary means. Regular bullets just get stuck in them, but your pistol isn’t regular. Will it be enough?]} A thunderous rifle shot echoes through the hall, and one Watcher jerks back, its shield barely holding under Mercury’s fire. It turns toward her, its eye flaring brighter. A telekinetic blast rips cracks through the column she’s hiding behind. [[Open fire ->StimShoot]] [[Close the distance ->Dash]]

You dive hard, rolling behind a mound of bones as the telekinetic blast obliterates a column behind you. Immediately, the Watcher, now deprived of his shield, is struck down by a large-caliber rifle shot. Mercury is alert, but for some reason has gotten too close. The second construct reacts instantly, and a telekinetic blast slams the girl into the floor with such force that you can hear the crunch of bone. You have lost one of your team. [[Revenge!!! ->BodyRevenge]] [[Wait for the opening ->BodyWait]]

Your lunging thrust sends the bone blade biting deep into the glowing crystal eye. A blinding flash. The Watcher collapses like a broken puppet as you’re hurled backward. The second one lashes out instantly. A wave of psychic force turns the last droid into a heap of bloodied metal and fixes its gaze on you. You don’t even have time to dodge. The air around your body constricts you like a boa, your lungs locking and your spine cracking under the pressure. The creature's blue eye is fixed on you. The blue eye of the grim reaper. [[Try to break free ->BreakOut]]

You risk a glance from cover, just for a moment. {(if: $Eyes is true) [Your head is fog. Hearing’s gone. The last android is nothing but a bloody smear on the flor. Ezekiel stands there untouched, same spot as before. Pavel crouches at the base of a shattered pillar, tearing the seal off an injector, blood soaking his side. He’s no help now. Mercury… nowhere. The pillar she fired from behind of is rubble.]}{(if: $Mind is true) [The last android is nothing but a bloody smear on the flor. Ezekiel — still standing in the open, exactly where he was from the start. The ground around him looks like it’s been shelled by artillery, but the mage himself hasn’t a scratch.]} {(if: $Mind is true) [Pavel’s behind a column near you, clutching a bleeding shoulder. Wounded, but alive, fumbling for an injector. Mercury’s likely dead: the cover she was firing from is nothing but a shattered heap.]} {(if: $Eyes is true)[["I have to finish this." ->StimCheckFinalBlast]]} {(if: $Mind is true)[["I have to finish this." ->StimCheckFinalBlast]]}

You roll out from cover, spring to your feet, and fire. The last Watcher swivels toward you. A shot goes wide. Two more, and it shield sparks and cracks apart. You keep the trigger tight, pushing forward. The fourth rips through its shoulder. A wave of raw force smashes into you, tossing you five meters through the air. The pistol skids away. You try to rise, but your legs won’t move. That single blue eye fixes on you, cold and merciless. [["Shit…" ->MageEnd]]

You zigzag, dodging the telekinetic hail. Springing from a toppled column, you hurl yourself straight at the nearest Watcher. A twist in midair, an invisible blast slams into the wall behind you. Your sword crashes against its shield. The living blade shrieks with delight, pressing against the barrier. You land beside it, step aside, and deliver a series of powerful blows to his shield. The shield shudders, the sword’s edge glowing red as it drinks your blood. One strike, then another, the barrier flickers and fades, but the Watcher’s eye ignites brighter. [[Finish it ->StimBodyFinisher]] [[Break away ->StimBodyDash]]

You roll out, plant your feet, and fire. The last Watcher swivels toward you, eye blazing. A shot misses, the next two rip through its barrier, lightning flickering out as the field dies. You keep your aim, firing on the move. A telekinetic blast tears past, smashing into the wall behind. Dust and shards rain down. You squeeze the trigger again — another hit, punching through its shoulder. Another invisible strike, and this one hits. Your ribs crunch as you’re flung backwards, skidding across the bone-littered floor. Gunfire slams into the construct from the flank, dragging its gaze away. Gritting your teeth, you raise the pistol where you’ve fallen, steadying your hands for one last shot. The round pierces its head clean through. The Watcher crumples to the ground like a broken puppet. [["Fuck… that was too close…" ->BadEnd]]

The pin clatters against stone and the grenade arcs forward. The wounded Watcher jerks its head up, catching it mid-air with invisible claws of force, but there’s no time left for it to fling it back. Light and thunder crash together, shaking the hall. {(if: $Eyes is true) [Your ears are already ruined, this only drives the pain deeper.]} When the smoke clears, the Watcher lies on the floor, a heap of scorched steel and shredded cloth. The second one is untouched. Its shield still hums, and the halo behind its back whirls faster, bullets trapped in its barrier trembling like angry hornets. From the ground, bones and rubble rise into the air. [[Empty the magazine into it ->GranadeShoot]] [[Take cover and reload ->Reload]]

You hit the ground on raw instinct. A split second later, a loud hiss, followed by a WHUMP! Like thunder cracking inside the hall. The Watcher hurls its gathered storm. Bones, columns and walls, obliterated, like by a giant shotgun blast . Anything not buried in cover is torn to shreds across the chamber. You slam in a fresh magazine, roll out from cover, snap to your feet, and fire. The last Watcher whirls toward you. The remaining Watcher immediately turns toward you. The first bullet misses. The second and third hit with a crack and a clang. Its shield becomes covered in a web of lightning and disappears. You dash forward again, continuing to fire. The fourth bullet pierces its shoulder. A telekinetic blast smashes into you, hurling you five meters back. The pistol skitters away. You struggle to rise, but your legs won’t obey. That glowing blue eye fixes on you: the reaper’s gaze, ready to crush you into pulp. And then — Mercury’s cannon roars. The Watcher’s head explodes into a spray of shards. The shredded body hits the ground. (set: $PavelGood to it +1) [["That’s what you get, you bastard!.." ->WoundedGoodEnd]]

You drop behind a pile of bones. “Ezekiel!!!” you roar at the top of your lungs{(if: $Eyes is true) [, not even hearing your own voice]}. “Wake up, you son of a bitch!” No reaction. But you manage to fumble a fresh magazine into your pistol. {(if: $Mind is true) [Short bursts echo from Pavel’s rifle, then the heavy boom of Mercury’s cannon, followed by a hiss and a thunderclap that tears the air apart. ]}The floor, the columns, the very walls are shredded as if blasted by a colossal shotgun. The Watcher hurls its gathered shrapnel in a storm, mowing down anything that wasn’t buried in cover. You peek out for just a heartbeat, to check on the mage. He’s untouched. Still standing in the open, exactly where he was from the start. The ground around him looks like it’s been shelled by artillery, but Ezekiel himself hasn’t a scratch. [[You have to end this->FinalBlast]]

You drop flat, fumbling a fresh magazine into the pistol. {(if: $Mind is true) [Gunfire rattles somewhere close, Pavel’s rifle and Mercury’s thunderous cannon. Then a low hiss, and the crash of thunder rolls through the hall.]} The chamber erupts. Bones, stone, entire columns are blasted apart as if a colossal shotgun had gone off point-blank. The Watcher has turned shards of bone and stone into shrapnel, scything down anything left uncovered. [[Leap from cover and dump the whole mag into the bastard ->StimFinalBlast]] [[Check on the others ->StimCheck]]

You lean out from cover and fire several precise shots, aiming straight for the Watcher’s glowing eye. BANG! BANG! BANG! The gun kicks in your hands like a raging bull. The roar of the gunfire almost deafens you. The first shot strikes, the second one too, and arcs of lightning splinter across the creature’s barrier. Third, the invisible wall it built around itself bursts. The fourth, half its head shears away as if sliced by a blade. The thing, machine or mockery of life, screams in a voice not meant for mortal throats, writhing in agony. The second Watcher sweeps in to shield its damaged kin, intercepting the line of fire from your allies. A shriek like an ultrasonic blade rips through your skull, nearly tearing you into unconsciousness.{(if: $Eyes is true) [Then silence falls. Warm wetness runs from your ears, but it doesn’t matter. You’re alive. And your eyes are still locked on the Watcher.]} [["Die!" ->StimShoot1]] [[Throw a grenade ->StimGranade]]

You aim straight at the Watcher’s eye and squeeze the trigger. Its shield flashes, spiderwebs of lightning racing across it, than it shatters. Ka-chink! The slide locks open. You pull the trigger again. Nothing: the magazine is empty. But Pavel answers with a short burst of fire. Mercury’s heavy rifle booms, punching holes through the Watcher’s frame. [[Drop to cover ->StimHide]]

Without slowing, you fire, each shot aimed straight at the glowing eye of the nearest Watcher. BANG! BANG! BANG! The gun kicks in your hands like a raging bull. The roar of the gunfire almost deafens you. The first shot strikes, the second one too, and arcs of lightning splinter across the creature’s barrier. Third, the invisible wall it built around itself bursts. The fourth, half its head shears away as if sliced of by a blade. The thing, machine or mockery of life, screams in a voice not meant for mortal throats, writhing in agony. The second Watcher sweeps in to shield its damaged kin, intercepting your line of fire. A shriek like an ultrasonic blade rips through your skull, nearly tearing you into unconsciousness. A telekinetic blow slams into you a moment later. The edge of the strike clips your side, hurling you across the chamber and slamming you onto the floor. A piercing screech tears at your skull, dropping the world into a blur of pain.{(if: $Eyes is true) [ Then silence falls. Warm wetness runs from your ears, but it doesn’t matter. You’re alive. And your eyes are still locked on the Watcher.]} [["Die!" ->StimShoot1]] [[Throw a grenade ->StimGranade]]

You rip a grenade from your belt and hurl it at the advancing Watcher, never breaking stride. {(if: $Mind is true) [The sphere halts mid-air, caught in its grip. As you expected. You raise your pistol and fire, striking the grenade itself. A blast rips through the hall, shredding its shield and lacerating its frame with shrapnel.]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [The sphere halts mid-air and whips back at you. You dive forward just in time. The blast hurls you into a mound of bones, crushing the breath from your chest.] } {(if: $Mind is true)[[Finish it ->DashGranade]]}{(if: $Eyes is true)[[Open fire ->Shoot]]}

You crash to the ground. “Ezekiel!!!” you roar at the top of your lungs{(if: $Eyes is true) [, not even hearing your own voice]}. “Wake up, you son of a bitch! He’s gonna blow!!!” No reaction. But you manage to fumble a fresh magazine into your pistol. {(if: $Mind is true) [Short bursts echo from Pavel’s rifle, then the heavy boom of Mercury’s cannon, followed by a hiss and a thunderclap that tears the air apart. ]}The floor, the columns, the very walls are shredded as if blasted by a colossal shotgun. The Watcher hurls its gathered shrapnel in a storm, mowing down anything that wasn’t buried in cover. You peek out for just a heartbeat, to check on the mage. He’s untouched. Still standing in the open, exactly where he was from the start. The ground around him looks like it’s been shelled by artillery, but Ezekiel himself hasn’t a scratch. [[Use a stim ->FinalBlast]] [[Finish the bastard ->FinalBlast]]

You step into the alley, where Ezekiel waits. “Crude,” the mage grimaces. “The Vanguard won’t like it.” “Relax,” you shrug. “I didn’t kill anyone. Just took back what was ours.” [["I suppose it’s time we talked business?" ->EzekielWork]]

There will be no second chance. “I choose my path!” You step hard toward Pavel, tear the pins from the grenades strapped to his chest. And as one last act of defiance you flip the arrogant mage the middle finger. “Eat shit, you bastard!” (live: 8s)[(go-to: "GameOverSuicide")]

“One of the local flashbenders gifted me this… in payment for a favor,” Ezekiel announces, voice tinged with hauteur. “A living blade. Have you ever heard of such things?” “Yes,” you nod, and at his curt gesture plunge your hand into the green fluid. Your fingers close around something smooth, elongated. The hilt feels like living skin. Tendrils, like woody branches, yet pulsing with flesh, coil around your wrist as you draw it free. The weapon emerges: a long, bone-forged sword, its edge made of fused vertebrae honed to razor keenness. Scarlet veins of flesh run between them. The guard writhes with ten slick tentacles, each tipped with a tiny, tooth-lined maw that drools as it slides across your skin. A few sink into your palm, feeding. You barely feel the sting. A sentient weapon — a magical symbiote grown in a vat. It feeds on the blood and life force of its owner, turning them into enhanced blows and cutting power. You do not understand the process, but you know this much: the blade could cleave a concrete block in two, and every strike will cost you a piece of your strength. {(if: $LostMachete is true) [Even so, your lost machete would not measure up to a toothpick beside this horror.]}{(else:) [Beside it, your machete is no more than a toothpick.]} “In the Lost Capital, ordinary spellcraft is… ill-advised,” Ezekiel intones. “But this creation feeds only upon its bearer’s vitality. Thus, it may be wielded safely there.” [[“With this beauty in hand, our chances suddenly look far better.” ->Departure]]

“Besides myself, a sniper-scout. Her name is Mercury. Our leader in the field will be Pavel. He’s a lizardlike mutant, Category B: a hardened fighter and capable squad leader. Also a couple of bio-recon drones and a pair of combat androids.” “So four of us, plus… escorts,” you sum up. “A compact and reliable crew,” the mage nods. “Bigger teams are easier to spot and more likely to stumble into trouble. Your role, $Name, will be primary driver, Pavel’s mid-to-close combat support, and mechanic for our transport and kit.” [["Reliable? You’re hiring street people, how can you trust us?" ->Trust]] {(if: $Info is false) [["What does a handful of cheap mercs matter? You have an objective, a route, and powerful magic, what else do you need?" ->Team1]]}

“If it were that simple, I wouldn’t be assembling a band of strangers with whom I must split the spoils, wouldn’t I?” the paragonian answers, returning your question with one of his own. “By the heavens, going alone is suicide. The Forbidden Lands aren’t just a savage wilderness full of monsters and lords-know-what. They are a blighted place, saturated with magic. As you approach the Lost Capital, anomalies multiply and the arcane knits itself wrong. In the capital you can expect chaotic arcane discharges and spatial warps. But fear not: I can detect and avoid most of them. And for the brute encounters we’ve prepared weapons and combat androids: losses we can afford. Technomagical constructs and machines function there, albeit intermittently; spells, however, grow wildly unstable. It’s easier to accidentally blow yourself to pieces there, than to catch a funny disease from local harlots, if you'll pardon the comparison. That is why I avoided hiring other mages or mercs laden with implants.” “But…” you say, thinking hard. “The androids. They won’t glitch out?” “Of course not,” the mage answers with quiet certainty. “They’re mostly made of flesh and meat: former people, after all.”(set: $Info to true) [["And still, you hire street men. How can you trust any of us?" ->Trust]]

[["So, I once knew this doctor..." ->DocAnekdote]] [["I met this merc on the road to Lunard..." ->MercAnekdote]] [["Two mutants meet on the highway..." ->MutantAnekdote]] [["I heard about this trader once..." ->TraderAnekdote]]

“How the hell does that thing still walk?” you mutter, shaking your head. “With a hole right through its chest. It should be nothing but rubble.” “Ghost in the machine! Just like in that movie!” Mercury pipes up, her cheer bizarrely out of place. “A fair comparison,” Ezekiel concedes dryly. “But hardly the strangest thing we’re likely to encounter here. But enough questions. Pick up the pace before some other nightmare sniffs us out.” [[Keep it steady. Just keep moving. ->City5]]

“You said no spells in here,” you blurt out. “They can be used, at great risk,” the mage snaps, irritation seeping into his tone. “I gambled, yes. But without that veil, we’d all be nothing more than a wet smear on the pavement.” He throws a sharp glance toward Pavel. “Enough chatter,” the lizard growls, jerking his head as if to fling away unwanted thoughts. “Pick up the pace before some other nightmare sniffs us out.” [[//Keep it steady, just keep moving //->City5]]

You circle the old moto-carriage, hands running over its panels. The gray paint flakes; rust eats at seams. Side windows are clouded from months of neglect, but the windshield is new, square and oddly glossy, a panel taken from another machine. The wheels wear bare rims and shorn tires. [[Look inside ->Salon]] [[Pop the hood ->Hood]]

You step closer to the open trailer, where Ezekiel is fussing with equipment. Inside you spot several neatly stacked plastic crates, one of them clearly marked Explosive. Two empty racks, clearly meant to secure combat drones during transport. A side compartment where a handful of bio-drones sit idle: human skulls with cameras glowing in their sockets, waiting for activation. And a long, ominous case stamped with the emblem of a skull circled by stars. {(if: $Body is true) [Next to it lies an even stranger container — a glass capsule filled with thick green fluid, large enough to hold a person.]} The battle-droids pivot toward you, joints clicking and servos humming. Their glassy lenses fix on your face as if drilling through your skin. A chill prickles down your back. “Finished looking around?” the Paragon mage interrupts your unease. “So. What do you think of the vehicle?” [[Honest: “Vintage, but in a surpisingly good shape. You don’t see many of these on the road anymore.” ->GoodCar]] [[Talking yourself up: “Pathetic heap. I’ve seen meth-heads who looked sturdier and more cheerful than this wreck.” ->BadCar]] [[“Those robots…” ->Droids]]

You go on, passing halls hung with ancient knightly and arcane orders’ crests above their doorways, descending deeper into the catacombs. Ezekiel pays them no mind. {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false)[Surprisingly, Mercury pipes up — she suggests checking a few chambers for treasure or untouched tombs. Ezekiel just tells her to shut up.]} “The sooner we find what we came for, the better. Don’t linger here: the dead are not very fond of the living,” he says as you come across desiccated remains in protective suits not unlike your own. On one corpse you notice a peculiar pair of goggles, very similar to Mercury’s. Corridors and staircases lead you further down until you reach a dead end: a passage sealed by a monumental stone door. Your lights pick out strange reliefs: two dragons bowing their heads carved across the face of the stone. Above the ancient, long-extincted beasts, a thin crescent moon is depicted, wreathed in tongues of flame. “At last…” the mage exhales, freezing to study the gate. He drops to his knees and wipes the dust from a small plaque at the threshold. Under the grime an elegant inscription appears, forming letters. “Here rests the Second of the Firsts. First of the Masters,” he reads, then lets out a small, satisfied chuckle. “Yes! By the heavens, I found him. The tomb’s sealed, if anyone was here before us, they failed to open it.” [["Well, well." ->TrueCrypt3]]

“And now…” he says, unloading the strange elongated case from his back and opening it. “I will break the barriers that protect this place. {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false)[You two, stand watch.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true)[$Name, step aside.]} Pavel, prepare the explosives.” The lizard immediately sets a crate down and starts rooting through it, pulling out rectangular blocks of explosive, wires, and a detonator. Meanwhile the paragonian takes three odd tripod-like devices from his case. Instead of cameras, he mounts large pyramidal crystals on their heads. He fiddles levers and positions the tripods in a semicircle facing the gate. [[You can only watch in silence ->TrueCrypt4]]

“Hah! It worked,” Ezekiel says, pleased with himself, then staggers and backs to the wall to lean against it. “By the heavens, that was far harder than I expected…” You feel his grip on you, on your body and mind, loosen. Movement returns to you! {(if: $Body is true) [[Draw the blade ->Kill]]}{(if: $Body is false) [["I’ll kill you!" ->Kill]]} [["What difference does it make? I’m not getting out anyway. Might as well get a few more breaths." ->TrueCrypt6]] [[Bolt for the exit ->Run]] [["He clearly won’t leave us alive. I’ll leave on my own terms, to the sound of fanfare and fireworks." ->Suicide]]

“I need to catch my breath. Pavel, you start loading the charges.” When the explosives are fixed to the stone gates and the squad takes cover around the corner, Pavel presses the detonator button. A crash of blast and a tongue of flame! Shards fly outward and the corridor fills with a cloud of stone dust. [[The passage is clear ->TrueCrypt7]]

You push through the dust cloud and the blasted hole in the gates, stepping into a broad chamber. At its center, raised on a stone dais, rests a lone sarcophagus. Unlike the hundreds you passed on the way here, this one bears no carvings, no gilded trim, no ornamentation at all. It looks almost humble, certainly not the tomb of a mighty Overlord. What marks it out is something else entirely. Looming behind the sarcophagus, pressed against the far wall, towers a colossal statue of gray stone, trimmed with tarnished gold and silver. A majestic knight in ornate, rune-etched armor, every inch of his plates covered with scripts and sigils. His face is hidden beneath a horned helm set with a great sapphire on the visor, and behind him spills a cloak that seems to ripple in a wind that does not exist. Blue light streams from the gem in his helm, falling in a single ray upon the plain sarcophagus. In his left hand the knight-mage grips the haft of an immense scythe. In his right, a weighty tome. The resemblance is impossible to miss: he looks unnervingly like the Watchers you fought before. Or perhaps they were shaped in his image. Stranger still is the state of the crypt: not a speck of dust, not a strand of cobweb. Even the air feels fresh, as if ventilated. “Magnificent,” Ezekiel breathes, eyes roaming over the chamber. You might have agreed, if you weren’t his prisoner. “Well? What are you waiting for?” the mage turns to you. “Open the sarcophagus. I want to gaze into the eyesockets of the Lord of ages past.” [[You have no choice but to obey. ->TrueCrypt8]]

Panting, straining, you and Pavel heave the stone lid aside. It topples to the floor and splits in two with a rumble. In the meantime, the sorcerer took the chalk out of his pocket again and began drawing strange patterns on the floor around the dais. “Excellent,” the paragonian nods, tugging the gasmask from his face. “We may begin.” He raises his left hand, curling it into a fist. The air around it ripples and boils. {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [A hiss erupts, the same sound as the psionic strike of the Watchers. Your former companions are yanked skyward, ensnared by an unseen grip.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [A hiss erupts, the same sound as the psionic strike of the Watchers. Pavel’s body lifts into the air, seized by an unseen grip.]} [["Why all this? Why did it have to happen to me!?" ->TrueEndEnd]] [["You really are a vile bastard, Ezekiel." ->TrueEndEnd]]

“Alas, your opinion no longer carries any weight,” the paragonian replies, nodding toward your thoughts. “Right now we carve a path toward a new, better future for the whole world. So don’t cast me as a monster. Had you been in my place, you’d have done the same… except perhaps Mercury might have acted differently: the mind of a madwoman is a puzzle.” When the explosives are fixed to the stone gates and the squad takes cover around the corner, Pavel presses the detonator button. A crash of blast and a tongue of flame! Shards fly outward and the corridor fills with a cloud of stone dust. [[The passage is clear ->TrueCrypt7]]

“By the heavens, $Name,” Ezekiel throws up his hands, frustrated. “Frankly, I don't give a fuck, excuse my sylvanian, about what you believe in and what you don't. We have a goal and we need to keep moving towards it.” {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false)[“Seriously, $Name, did you hit your head too hard?” the sniper asks. “Stop the hysteria.”]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true)[“Rookie, did you hit your head too hard?” Pavel asks. “Stop the hysteria.”]} (set: $NotTime to true) [["Fine. This place is just driving me insane." ->Dungeon]] [["This expedition stank of a setup from the start. And just now the stench became unbearable." ->TrueEnd1]] [[Hide your thoughts. Stay quiet. This isn’t the time. ->Dungeon]]

{(if: $Body is true)[You draw the living blade, tightening your grip until it pulses in your hand.]}{(if: $Body is false)[You draw your pistol and pull back the hammer.]} {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2)["$Name, what the hell are you doing?” Pavel shouts.]}{(if: $PavelGood is <= 1)["Nomad, has this place completely melted your brain?” Pavel snaps.]} The pieces start clicking into place. “You… you’re a psionic. Just like those golems,” your hand twitches toward your weapon. “A mind-mage. The headaches: I felt them when I first met you. And I felt the same pain from the Watchers. You’ve been twisting our thoughts the whole time! Every time, every single time, it came with the same pain.” Ezekiel regards you in silence. After several long seconds, he finally speaks: “You’ve completely lost it, haven’t you? Conspiracy theories now? You seem to forget — you’re bound by contract not to harm me, or any other member of this party. And you are obligated to do whatever is necessary to see this mission succeed.” “I remember,” you answer." {(if: $Body is true)[You press the blade to your own throat.]}{(if: $Body is false)[You raise the pistol to your own temple.]} (live: 30s)[(go-to: "OpenCards1")]

“$Name, don’t mistake me for a monster.” The mage’s calm reply cuts straight into your mind. Not “as if” he read your thoughts, he’s alredy inside them, a parasite gnawing at your brain. You feel him there, writhing, digging in like a worm. “I take no pleasure in what I’m about to do. Especially not with you. You’re unhinged, yes, but brave, and sharp enough to see through me. I should never have tried to seize the Watchers. Greed almost ruined me again.” “Then why!?” your thoughts cry out. “I do only what must be done for this world,” Ezekiel lifts his chin, voice swelling with pride. “I return to life one who can mend it. I am not only a psion, but a necromancer as well. And the mage entombed here will not merely bring order to these ravaged lands, he will bring judgement on all those fools, who were guilty of the Empire’s fall.” [["What’s it to you? All I smell here is your own gain." ->TrueReason1]] [["You’ve been clouding our minds since the very start." ->TrueReason]] [["Why do you need us?" ->TrueNext]]

"And next: you will die," the sorcerer spreads his hand. "Shame it must be so. Mercury irritated me. Pavel's just an unpleasant type. But I liked you. You even have the makings of a mage. Tiny and barely noticeable, but there." "Oh, fuck you." "Only after you," the mage smiles. Invisible chains bind you and lift you into the air. Pain rolls through your body. The chalk pattern on the floor flares with turquoise flame. The fire is far below, but it feels as if you've been lowered into a cauldron of boiling oil. You try to scream, but no sound comes out — your mouth opens without voice. "I'll try not to let you suffer," Ezekiel's voice comes through the veil of pain. "{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [Although with only two sacrifices on hand, that will be difficult.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [But I can't promise anything.]}" {(if: $MercuryIsDead is false) [The mage brings all three prisoners — you, Pavel and Mercury, closer to the open sarcophagus, and the bones inside a engulfed in turquoise fire.]}{(if: $MercuryIsDead is true) [He brings you closer to the sarcophagus, directly opposite Pavel. The bones in the stone coffin begin to burn turquoise.]} [["Bastard!" ->TrueFinale]]

"I didn't choose to come here. You manipulated me. And the rest of the team too." "From the start you were useful to me only as sacrifices for the ritual," the mage shrugs in agreement. "I needed people like you. Lucky enough to survive the route with me, but not smart enough to understand the true purpose of this little expedition. A few tricks on the mind, and three volunteers shrug off their doubts and are ready to risk their lives. Yes, it's dirty. But I had no other choice. To lead you as prisoners, or to keep you under constant mental control would have been too messy." [["This stinks of hypocrisy and personal gain." ->TrueReason1]] [["And what next?" ->TrueNext]]

"I won't argue," the mage smiles. "He will put things in order under my humble advisory, that's what I meant. And what's it to me?" For a moment his face twists with rage. "I'm nearly three hundred years old, boy. They used to call men like me Paladins of the Overlords. I saw what the world once was. I saw fertile lands, the flowering of magic, abundance and utopia. And I watched, powerless to change it, as it rotted away. As heirs tore the Empire apart like starving dogs. As this city, my home, turned into cursed rubble. I decided I'd do whatever it takes to fix that great injustice that fell on all of us, and here I am." [["You're just a lying dog." ->TrueReason]] [["And what next?" ->TrueNext]]

“I can’t,” he smiles ruefully. “Funny, isn't it? But I have a neat solution for that delicate problem.” From the depths of his mantle he produces a curious scroll bound by a white ribbon. “To ensure the team trusts one another, and that protecting my person is the priority, rather than looting, everyone I hire must sign a magical covenant with me. The terms are blunt: you swear to guard me and to do no harm to me or to other party members from the moment of sealing until we return to Lunard. And for an additional week thereafter. You will not flee mid-raid and you will do everything in your power and within reason to ensure the mission’s success. On completion you receive the agreed reward: five hundred as an advance, five hundred on success, and a share of any treasure, excluding the remains I seek…” The mage unties the ribbon and unfurls the paper. [["One last question: what about our equipment? My clothing and weapons aren’t exactly expedition grade." ->Equip]]

“I’m twenty-two, and I don’t have a car anymore,” you correct him. “Pity…” Vincent clicks his tongue. “A courier would’ve been handy right about now.” You want to tell him not every nomad is a contraband hauler, but you remember your clan’s line of work all too well. Better to keep quiet. Vincent pulls a slim tablet from his pocket, clicks something, then slips it away again. “Something suitable should turn up for someone like you soon,” he says. [["Soon? What do you mean by ‘soon’?" ->Vincent4]]

The recruiter raises a hand to silence you. Then, in a flat tone, counts down: “And three… and two… and…” A gunshot cracks behind you, and you immediately turn around. One of the gamblers at the round table, a hulking brute with a mechanical arm and a cleaver strapped to his side, has just painted the wall with his brains. His body slides bonelessly from his chair and falls onto the flor. “Mop and bucket’s in the closet,” booms Big D from the bar. “Ain’t cleaning that shit up for you!” A shout of reassurance is tossed back to him as two of the gamblers immediately start stripping the corpse of valuables. //So much for Black Vanguard protection//, you think grimly. “Took his advance and thought he’d triple it in one spin of the cylinder after I promised him luck,” Vincent mutters in disappointment. “I meant fortune in his next job, not in a game of deadly roulette.” [["So you can predict the future after all?" ->Vincent5]] [["And now you need a replacement. Because your last recruit just blew his brains out? Why didn’t you stop him?" ->Vincent6]]

“Have you ever heard of the concept of a self-fulfilling prophecy?” the fox answers with a small smile. “Never mind. I am no prophet. I prefer the term visionary.” [[“Yeah. But now you need a new mercenary because the one you recently hired blew his brains out? Why didn't you stop him?”->Vincent8]]

Vincent shrugs. “He has his own head on his shoulders,” he says, casting a glance over your shoulder. “Well, he had one… And he wasn’t my hire, didn’t come through my pocket. I merely pointed him out to the client.” [["How did you know he was going to kill himself?" ->Vincent7]]

“Have you ever heard of the concept of a self-fulfilling prophecy?” the fox answers with a small smile. “Never mind. I am no prophet. I prefer the term visionary.” [["Whatever. What’s the job?" ->Work]] [["Who do you want me to work for?" ->Work]]

Vincent shrugs. “He has his own head on his shoulders,” he says, casting a glance over your shoulder. “Well, he had one… And he wasn’t my hire, didn’t come through my pocket. I merely pointed him out to the client.” [["Whatever. What’s the job?" ->Work]] [["Who do you want me to work for?" ->Work]]

Leaning against the counter, you study the bottles lined up on shelves of raw meat-flesh. {(if: $Mind is true) [The mercs who beat that brute out of his contract glance at you with interest. But for now, none of them invite you to join their game.]} “Get you something?” Big D’s bass rumbles behind the bar. {(if: $Wounded is true) [“You don’t look so hot. How about a shot of the Mad Doctor? Put you right back on your feet.”]} [[“Thanks, but no.” ->NoThanks]] {(if: $Wounded is true) [[“Ah, hell with it. Pour me one.” ->HealMe]]}

“An old man,” you say. “Grey hair. Loaded with combat implants: body full of metal from head to toe. His face is sharp, one won’t forget it after seeing it.” “Dark Wanderer…” Vincent tastes the name. “I’ve heard that name before. But I’m afraid I can’t help.” {(if: $Mind is true)[You feel it in your skin: the recruiter lies. Or he’s omitting something. A flash of recognition crossed his eyes when you described the Wanderer. He clearly knows more than he says.]}{(else:)[From Vanguard’s point of view, a carrier of a deadly disease would be a prize to capture or kill. But do you really want to tie your fate to them? And is this scummy recruiter someone to trust with your secrets?]} {(if: $Wanderer is true)[[[“He is the one who destroyed my clan. The same plague he brought started the epidemic in your city.” -> VincentWanderer]]]}{(else:)[[[“He is the one who destroyed my clan. He brought a plague to our camp. People literally rotted alive.” -> Vincent2]]]} [["Enough. What about work?" -> Vincent2]]

Who the hell the Warlords were, and why they went to war, you do not know. Centuries of scorched-earth fighting and total technological war burned away the records, along with most of the world. Not that you ever cared much about history from a hundred years back. All that matters is this: once, they have ruled the world, and in the span of a heartbeat they smashed it apart, like a child kicking down a sandbox when the game gets boring. Now, whole regions lie dead or twisted beyond recognition. Magic storms scar the land like flies picking at a bloated corpse. The line between species blurred long ago by mutations, and what’s left of the thinking folk kill each other over the scraps of a shattered empire. [[Back ->Silence]]

The question goes unanswered. Only after a few seconds do you turn to see your companions frozen in place, glancing about as if afraid to take even a single step. A sharp lance of pain explodes in the back of your skull, tearing you free of the strange hypnosis that had wrapped around the group. Like a giant needle rammed into your brainstem. A thin ringing fills your ears, growing louder by the second, broken only by a whispering chorus in some unknowable tongue. “What’s happening!?” Pavel snarls, clutching at his head. The bio-drones, hovering just ahead, freeze midair, and are crushed instantly by some unseen force. Bloodied shards of bone and metal rain to the floor. You look up, and you see them, closing fast. Two figures in tattered white cloaks, gliding through the air as effortlessly as fish through still water. Strange spinning steel rings orbit their backs, and their faces are hidden by ornate knightly helms, each marked by a blazing sapphire crystal where the eyes should be. {(if: $Mind is true) [You register it all in the blink of an eye. ]}Your hand drifts toward your weapon, but too slowly. The maddening drone in your skull clamps down on your thoughts, chains around your mind. “They’re Watchers!” Ezekiel’s shout cuts through the haze. “Psionic golems!” The android beside you raises its arm-cannons to fire. Only to be hammered into the floor by sheer invisible weight. Flesh and metal erupt into a grotesque pulp. {(if: $Mind is true) [[You’re in deep shit ->MindEyesLine]]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [[You’re in deep shit ->MindEyesLine]]}{(if: $Body is true) [[You’re in deep shit ->BodyLine]]}

[[Honest: “Vintage, but in a surpisingly good shape. You don’t see many of these on the road anymore.” ->GoodCar]] [[Talking yourself up: “Pathetic heap. I’ve seen meth-heads who looked sturdier and more cheerful than this wreck.” ->BadCar]]

“Then our paths part here,” Ezekiel spreads his hands. [[“And if I agree, then spill anyway?” ->NotSilence]] [[“Alright, lets get this over with.” ->Silence]]

You approach what remains of the so-called Watchers. They fought like beasts... If you can say that about machines... Machines? Those do not bleed. But machines do not use magic either. One of the creatures was riddled with bullets like a pincushion with needles. The other looks crushed inward, like a piece of paper balled in a giant fist, by a similar force, that pulped one of your droids. [[Kick the wreckage ->WorstEnd1]] [["Wait… this one. It wasn’t its partner that struck the blow, was it?" ->Ezekiel?]]

“Questions that matter, not idle chatter,” Pavel growls, exhaling into the comm. “You really don’t get it, $Name?” Mercury’s voice cuts in, sly and amused. “He’s from Federation. Accent gives him away. Probably served in a purge squad. Only Federates strut around like such serious big boys.” “Yes. Former Federation soldier. Satisfied?” Pavel snaps back, voice sharp as a rifle crack. “Now take a note from Ezekiel: shut the hell up and keep moving.” [["Aye, captain.” ->Enter]] [["I’ve still got one serious question. Why wide streets?” ->IsItBetter]]

You surrender to the maddening perfume, step into the haze of desire and decadence. The nearest bar, the drinks pour in waves. Beer, vodka, whiskey — one after the other, washed down with hookah smoke. Then the bar dissolves into a motel room. She hadn’t lied. It was a night of fire, ending in dreamless sleep. But you wake alone. Head pounding, body aching. Your money, your comm, your weapon — gone. She even took your boots. And your pass. [["So this is what they call rock bottom." -> GameOver]]

“Hm… you’re right,” the mage allows himself a sly little smile. “But if you want into my group, you’ll have to learn to watch for other people’s mistakes, and fix them. You’ll also need loyalty, obedience, and no trace of cowardice. Start by retrieving Eric’s belongings, your dearly departed predecessor’s. How you do it, I don’t care. Show me some imagination.” [["Fine. I’ll get your things… what the hell do I keep getting myself into?” ->Players]] {(if: $Mind is true) [["Alright, then I’ll show some imagination right now. We wait until there are only two left at that table. Then we move in." ->PlayersWait]]}{(else:) [["Alright, then I’ll show some imagination right now. We wait until there’s only one left. Then we move in." ->PlayersWait]]}

“A fellow from [[Paragon ->Paragon]],” he begins, folding the question into the smoke between you. He's been sticking around here for almost two weeks now, gathering a team for a foray into the Forbidden Lands. I don't know what he's looking for there, but he's not stingy with equipment and money... That big guy they're carrying to the dumpster was the group's driver and mechanic, with quite a bit of experience in all kind of skirmishes. {(if: $Body is true) [With your profile you’d replace him nicely.]}{(if: $Eyes is true) [Mind you, you’re no substitute in all respects, but who said a pistol’s worse than a blade?]}{(if: $Mind is true) [You lack his raw physical bulk, but your head could beat his in most meaningful ways.]}” {(if: $Legend is true) [[“Straight into the Forbidden Lands? That’s the very opportunity I chased! ->WorkYes]]}{(if: $Vincent is true) [[“So you want me, who you just offered a partnership, to jump in with an unknown mage into the Forbidden Lands? That’s like asking me to join those idiots at the roulette table.” ->WorkVincent]]} [["You said he’s not stingy. The Forbidden Lands aren’t a joke — how generous is he paying for risks? ->WorkMaybe]] [["You expect me — as you put it, a ‘kid’ — to go into the Forbidden Lands? I’m not that desperate. ->WorkNo]]

“You won’t need to look far,” Vincent says evenly. “The mage’s name is Ezekiel. He’ll be here any minute. Wait for him at the bar.” You nod, toss a parting word, and rise from your seat, heading for the counter. [[“What a strange man. Let’s hope this Paragon sorcerer doesn’t turn into a problem.” ->Wait]]

“There's no point in threatening a walking corpse,” the fox calmly interrupts you. “But you're still alive, and you should be more careful.” [["Where do I find this paragonian?"->WorkAccept]]

“Payment and mission details you’ll discuss with the mage," Vincent knocks ash from his pipe and tamps it fresh. "I’m only the go-between. But to the brute he hired, he paid five hundred credits in advance. I won’t share details of the raid. That’s for the employer to do. I will say this: he’s leading the run, and he’s done his homework. Solid odds of coming back alive. So, $Name… are you interested?” {(if: $Mind is true) [Some mage. Some crew. And an offer to an untested novice like you. It reeks of madness. But a promising madness.]} [["It’s a fortune. But I’ll speak to the mage myself before I give an answer." ->WorkAccept]] [["I don’t care what he offers. No price is worth the Forbidden Lands. Got anything else?" ->WorkNoNo]]

“Payment and the rest you’ll discuss with the mage. I’m only the go-between. But to the brute he hired, he paid five hundred credits in advance. I won’t share details of the raid. That’s for the employer to do. I will say this: he’s leading the run, and he’s done his homework. Solid odds of coming back alive.” [["That’s... No small money. For me especially. Fine, where do I find this mage?" ->WorkAccept]] [["I need coin, but the Forbidden Lands? The risks outweigh the promise. Do you have other contracts?” ->WorkNoNo]]

“Curious…” Vincent knocks ash from his pipe and tamps it fresh. “Most greenhorns in your shoes would snatch at this chance, grinning like idiots, not even caring about the details.” “Maybe my sense of self-preservation is sharper than theirs,” you say. “Perhaps,” he strikes a match, draws deep, exhales with indifference. “Offering work is my work. If you’re unsure, speak to the client yourself. Hear the terms. Then decide.” [["How much does he pay for a risk like this?" ->WorkMaybe1]] [["Fine. How do I find him?" ->WorkAccept]]

{(if: $Vincent is true) [“Of course there are other jobs,” the recruiter replies confidently. “But then forget about working with me. I don't have enough time to rely on cowards.”]}{(if: $Vincent is false) [“Maybe someone needs debts collected, or bones counted? A repair job, or a missing person?” you suggest. “Are you serious?” the recruiter snorts. “Do I look like a pawnshop or a private eye? I hire shots for hunting the crazed mutants, deranged cyborgs, rogue androids and bandits who forgot their place. That’s why I need hired guns like you. You’re alone, and you don’t have a car, so you take what comes.” Your comm beeps; a message flashes from an unknown user. Vincent explains flatly: “A mutant’s been ripping people apart in the slums. It tore through one of our patrols. Track it and kill it before it kills again. Pay: three hundred credits on proof of the freak’s death. You taking it?”]} {(if: $Vincent is true) [[“You arrogant shit. Think you can take shake me down? You think I won’t find the Wanderer without you?” ->WorkNoNoNo]]}{(if: $Vincent is false) [[“One mutant is not a horde from the Forbidden Lands. I’ll take it.” ->WorkNoNoNo]]} {(if: $Vincent is true) [[“Alright, you son of a bitch. I’ll talk to this mage. But if you lie to me...” ->WorkFine]]}{(if: $Vincent is false) [[“Only three hundred for a whole contract!? The mage offered five just in advance!” ->End]]}

{(if: $Vincent is true) [“Hah. Without me, you wouldn’t last two days in this city, guppy,” Vincent waves his pipe dismissively. “But if you’re so sure of yourself…” Your comm beeps: a message from an unknown sender flashes across the screen. “There’s a mutant in the slums, tearing people apart,” Vincent explains dryly. “It already ripped through one of our patrols. Track it, kill it, and bring proof. Three hundred credits when it’s done. Interested?”}{(else:) [“Fine,” the recruiter nods. “Details are in the message. I’ll be expecting your report.”]} {(if: $Vincent is true) [[“One mutant’s nothing compared to a whole pack in the Forbidden Lands. I’ll take it.” ->End1]]}{(else:) [[“Goodbye.” ->End1]]} {(if: $Vincent is true) [[“Only three hundred? That mage was throwing around five just as a deposit. And this is for a full contract!?” ->End]]}

“A hundred years ago, I’d have said about five to six hours…” Mercury snorts: “A hundred years? What, are you that old?” “Don’t nitpick,” Ezekiel waves her off. “Hundred years ago, before the Overlords’ War. Same matter. Nowadays, it could be five hours… or ten, depending on our luck.” He taps the hand-drawn map with his finger. “Rumors about the Forbidden Lands and the road to the Capital vary wildly. Everyone I questioned gave me a rather conflicting evidence.” “Five?” Pavel raises an eyebrow and takes a swig of beer. “Where’d you find that storyteller? My first run took almost a full day. We only saw the city from a distance. No fancy scanners, just basic sensors, and the car had to be abandoned halfway through. The road just vanished. Dead end into a wall of mutant forest. Second time, it took just under ten, but we had a mage to guide the way.” [["But you’ve been to the Capital, right? What can you tell us about it?" ->WorkTalkPavel]] [["Mercury, you said your brother went there once. Know any details?" ->WorkTalkMercury]]

Mercury lets out a tired sigh. “My brother’s little gang of five scoundrels used to roam the outskirts of the Forbidden Lands, scavenging for untouched ruins. They rode motorcycles and homemade buggies so they wouldn’t have to stick to the roads. Sometimes I didn’t see them for weeks,” her voice turns dull and flat, like the memories of her brother bring her more discomfort than warmth. “If you stayed out of the Scarlet Forest, at the outer edge of the Lands, the chance of running into something lethal wasn’t that high. But you also wouldn’t find much of value there. So when Leniard finally scraped together enough cash for gear, they decided to go deeper…” “Let me guess, that’s when everything went to shit?” Pavel drawls, bored. “Don’t interrupt!” she snaps at him. “If you’re so clever, why don’t you tell a story, huh?” “Alright, alright, don’t blow a fuse,” the lizardman raises his hands in mock surrender. “Go on.” “The first trip was a bust. Waste of time. But the second one? Jackpot. They found a downed transport chopper from the Overlords’ War. Inside was the body of some mage loaded with magical trinkets. Good haul. They partied away the credits, sure, but they made a name for themselves. Then came the third run. Ten people went in that time: all street kids, knew which end of a gun to point. Only five came back…” She lets out a bitter half-laugh. “And the funniest damn part? They didn’t stumble into an anomaly, or a monster nest. No. They ran into some old geezer with pistols.” [["What old geezer?" ->WorkTalkMercury1]] [["You’re kidding." ->WorkTalkMercury1]] [["Lemme guess, he wasn’t just any geezer. He wore a gray bathrobe, had a joint in his mouth and a golden Glock in his underwear." ->WorkTalkMercury1]]

“You, $Name, don’t you dare think I’m spinning fairy tales here,” Mercury hisses through clenched teeth. “My brother told me himself. And if he was anything, he sure as hell wasn’t a liar.” “Alright, alright,” you raise your hands defensively. “So what about this old man?” “Just that. Old, grey, packing pistols. Alone, wearing rags instead of armor, but moving and jumping like the devil himself. He slaughtered half their team before the rest managed to run for their lives.” You feel Ezekiel’s gaze on you. He’s clearly noticed the flicker of recognition on your face but chooses to keep quiet. “They barely carried out any loot, had to ditch everything to escape. That almost broke their crew apart. But my brother? He got inspired. Said the stories were true: this old man must’ve found a Blessing of the Forbidden Lands. He became obsessed with reaching the heart of the Lost Capital. Talked the others into following him. And that’s the last time I saw him.” [["The whole crew didn’t make it back?" ->GroupDead]] [["Your brother died in the Lost Capital. Why are //you// going there? To find him? Or to share his fate?" ->BrotherFate]] [["Are those blessings even real?" ->Blessings]]

The lizardman doesn’t answer immediately. He stares ahead for a few seconds before finally speaking. “Can you imagine hell on earth?” he asks you. You shrug, but he doesn’t wait for a response. “Well, that’s it. Only not your cozy and warm little hell with fire, jolly little imps, and boiling oil pots. No. The real thing. More like ‘abandon hope, all ye who enter here’. Monsters, spirits, a dead world that tries to suck the soul right out of you every second you’re there.” “Pavel, would you kindly stop scaring our driver,” Ezekiel sighs without looking up from his map. Pavel chuckles under his breath, watching your reaction. [["Not scared." ->WorkTalkPavel1]] [["I’ve been to hell already. Didn’t look like what you just described." ->WorkTalkPavel1]] [["Our captain’s sense of humor sucks. Mercury, got anything funny to tell?" ->Anekdote]]

“Oooh, so serious,” Mercury pouts theatrically. “Honestly, Pavel, I don’t believe you either. A place that legendary can’t possibly be that bad.” The lizardman’s expression hardens, and he replies calmly: “Every joke… has a kernel of truth. You’ll see for yourselves when we get there.” [["If it’s really that bad, then why did you even accept this job?" ->Pavel?]] [["Mercury, you mentioned your brother had been there. You know any details?" ->WorkTalkMercury]]

“I’m not offering this job to get rid of you,” the fox says, not flinching. “It’s quid pro quo. You survive: the cards were right. You sniff out what this paragonian does in the Forbidden Lands, and I’ll dig up what I can on the Dark Wanderer. Sounds fair to me, doesn’t it?” “You hire people for him. Can’t you figure out why he needs mercs and what he’s after?” you ask, irritation rising. “He asked for a driver-mechanic, a recon sniper, and a marksman with tactical skills. Also, one of them should be experienced in operating combat androids. With that crew you can both go on a picnic to the mutated woods or try to raid the Lost City’s archives, if you’re brave enough,” Vincent flicks the ash from his pipe as he speaks. “What do you care about some wizard anyway?” you press. “That’s none of your fucking business,” the fox snaps, then pulls himself together. “Apologies, $Name. All you need to know: I have unfinished affairs, and this mage’s expedition might help me settle them. So, are you in?” It’s a chance to make a name, to gain real experience. It’s also a chance to lie down and never get up, especially given who’s putting the run together. Few mercenaries can boast of going into the Forbidden Lands and returning, the place is simply that lethal. [[“Alright. Where do I find this mage? I’ll talk to him myself and then decide.” ->WorkAccept]] [[“I’m willing to take risks, but the Forbidden Lands? That’s too far. You have other contracts?” ->WorkNoNo]]

“I knew someone like you wouldn’t let this opportunity slip,” Vincent knocks ash from his pipe and tamps it fresh. “Payment and the rest you’ll discuss with the mage. I’m only the go-between. But to the brute he hired, he paid five hundred credits in advance. I won’t share details of the raid. That’s for the employer to do. I will say this: he’s leading the run, and he’s done his homework. Solid odds of coming back alive.” [["Fine. How do I find him?" ->WorkAccept]]

You open your eyes to the sight of shattered glass from your visor. Your skull throbs, your whole body screams with pain. Every breath stabs your ribs: at least one is broken, maybe more. (set: $Worst to true) “On your feet!” someone barks, shaking your shoulder hard. You wipe dust from your mask’s lenses and see Pavel crouched over you. He pulls an injector from his pocket, snaps off the plastic cap, and drives the needle into your neck. “Agh…” you grunt, weak and sluggish despite yourself. Liquid fire floods your veins, icy and searing all at once, rushing through your body. The pain dulls, thoughts snap into focus again. {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2)[“Up, rookie. Fight’s not over.” “We made it?” you manage, your head clearing by degrees. “Not all of us,” Ezekiel answers from somewhere behind you. His voice is muffled, ragged. “There were eight of us… counting the droids and bio-units. Now it’s just three. I hadn’t planned for losses like this…” Pavel hauls you upright and presses your lost weapon back into your hands.]}{(if: $PavelGood <= 1)[“Told you he’d just weigh us down,” the lizard mutters. At the mage, no doubt, though you can’t see him. “Pavel, spare me the lectures,” Ezekiel replies from somewhere behind you, his voice ragged with fatigue. “He got us into the city, and with luck he’ll get us out. Just so long as he doesn’t keel over from his wounds.” Pavel jerks you roughly to your feet, peers into your eyes, snorts something under his breath, and steps back. “If you’re both done swooning, move. Before more of those bastards drop on us.”]} {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2)[["Mercury’s dead?" ->MercuryDead]]}{(if: $PavelGood <= 1)[["What about Mercury?" ->MercuryDead]]} {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2)[[Check the remains of the attackers ->WhatisWatcher]]} {(if: $PavelGood <= 1)[[Check the remains of the attackers ->WhatisWatcher]]}

{(if: $PavelGood is >= 2)["Move," Pavel urges.]}{(if: $PavelGood is <= 1)["Cut the crap, rookie," Pavel growls. Then, sharper, almost barking: “Grab the fucking crate and march!”]} [["Fine." ->WorstEnd2]]

{(if: $PavelGood is >= 2)["Alright. Let’s go."]}{(if: $PavelGood is <= 1)["You don’t have the strength, or the will, to argue. You hoist the load onto your back and follow the others."]}(set: $NotTime to false) [["Let’s finish this and get the hell out of here." ->Dungeon]]

“Yoohoo!!!” Mercury whoops, voice ringing across the ruins. “That’s how it’s done, boys! And you, $Name, you’ve got some bite. Didn’t think you had that raging dog it in you.” {(if: $PavelGood is >= 2) [Pavel slings his rifle and helps you to your feet.]}{(if: $PavelGood <= 1) [“Even a broken clock’s right twice a day,” Pavel mutters dryly.]} {(if: $PavelGood <= 1) [You scramble back to your feet. ]}Your head pounds, ears ringing, as though the Watchers’ psychic pressure hasn’t vanished, only eased. “We need to move!” Ezekiel snaps, his voice edged with panic. “If there were two, there’ll be twenty more. Pavel, grab the charges. Mercury, forward, under your cloaking. $Name, with me. We waste no time.” (set: $MercuryIsDead to false) [["Yeah, best keep moving." ->BetterEnd]] [["Those… machines… they were using magic." ->Ezekiel?1]] [["How the hell did you survive?" ->How]]

“Excellent!” the mage beams. “Please, sign here.” He passes you the scroll and a pen. The moment you scratch your short mark across the parchment, it bursts into blue flame and disintegrates into ash. “Don’t worry, that’s how it’s meant to be. I only hope there’ll be no more incidents, and I won’t be forced to find myself a third driver. That was my last covenant scroll.” “And I hope just as much,” you answer with a faint smile. “So, when do we leave?” “As soon as you are ready. In other words, immediately,” Ezekiel pivots on his heel and strides away from the Howling Pit. “Come. You need to see the transport and get equipped.” “It’s nearly midday. If we set out now, or in a couple of hours, we’ll reach the place at midnight,” you remark, puzzled. “Precisely. Trust me, it makes no difference. In the Lost Capital there is neither day nor night: only eternal twilight. And whatever the hour, the shadows there are always full of dangers.” [[//Follow Ezekiel// ->Car]]

So, I once knew this doctor. Claimed he could heal any wound with simple herbs — stuff you’d find in any kitchen. One day, a merc shows up with a bullet hole. So the doc tries one of his tricks: soaking moss in cheap vodka and pressing it on the wound. Said it ‘killed everything.’ And, well… he wasn’t wrong. It did work, in a way. The patient died of infection, and the doc and his buddies got so drunk on the leftover moss vodka that they forgot why they started treating him in the first place. “Ha… not bad,” Mercury nods approvingly. “Meh,” Pavel grumbles. [["Alright, alright. Let me tell another one..." ->TellAnekdote]] [["Your turn, captain." ->AnekdoteEnd]]

So, I once knew this doctor. Claimed he could heal any wound with simple herbs — stuff you’d find in any kitchen. One day, a merc shows up with a bullet hole. So the doc tries one of his tricks: soaking moss in cheap vodka and pressing it on the wound. Said it ‘killed everything.’ And, well… he wasn’t wrong. It did work, in a way. The patient got so drunk he forgot he was even injured. “Ha… not bad,” Mercury nods approvingly. “Meh,” Pavel grumbles. [["Alright, alright. Let me tell another one..." ->TellAnekdote]] [["Your turn, captain." ->AnekdoteEnd]]

I met this merc on the road to Lunard once. Fresh rookie, green as moss... [["Bought himself a really fancy gun..." ->MercArmorAnekdote]] [["Told me he wasn’t afraid of anomalies..." ->MercAnomalyAnekdote]]

Two mutants meet on the highway. One asks the other... [["How do you help a drowning pureblood?" ->MutantPureAnekdote]] [["Why so pale and miserable?" ->MutantBloodAnekdote]]

I met this merc on the road to Lunard once. Fresh rookie, green as moss. He told me he wasn’t afraid of anomalies, said he knew a trick... [["An anomaly won’t touch you if it thinks you’re already dead..." ->MercAnomalyPunchline1]] [["You need a stick and courage..." ->MercAnomalyPunchline2]]

I met this merc on the road to Lunard once. Fresh rookie, green as moss. But he had a fancy gun loaded with attachments. Spent all his money on it… and completely forgot about armor. And since some kind of protection is better than none, the genius strapped frying pans and cooking pots all over himself, and wore a cast-iron cauldron on his head. Real cookware, top quality. When he walked through the woods, every mutant for miles could hear: ‘Dinner is served!’ Mercury bursts out laughing. “Hah! I believe that.” [["Hold on, I’ve got another one..." ->TellAnekdote]] [["I told mine, now it’s Pavel’s turn." ->AnekdoteEnd]]

I met this merc on the road to Lunard once. Fresh rookie, green as moss. He told me he wasn’t afraid of anomalies, said he knew a trick. According to him: ‘An anomaly won’t touch you if it thinks you’re already dead. So you just hold your breath, and walk through.’ Didn’t believe him at first. Until I found him later. Had to bury him still blue-faced. Mercury snorts with laughter. “Hah! Not bad, I’m stealing that one.” [["Hold on, I’ve got another one..." ->TellAnekdote]] [["I told mine, now it’s Pavel’s turn." ->AnekdoteEnd]]

I met this merc on the road to Lunard once. Fresh rookie, green as moss. He told me he wasn’t afraid of anomalies, said he knew a trick. According to him: ‘All you need is a stick, courage, and confidence. If you walk forward boldly and wave the stick ahead, the anomaly gets scared and backs off.’ I found the stick a few hours later. Don’t know what happened to the merc… but if that stick made it through all those anomalies, that was one hell of a brave stick. “Ha… not bad,” Mercury nods approvingly. “Meh,” Pavel grumbles. [["Alright, alright. Let me tell another one..." ->TellAnekdote]] [["Your turn, captain." ->AnekdoteEnd]]

I heard about this trader. Set up a shop on the edge of Lunard. Selling gear dirt cheap, right? But... [["He had a //special deal// on grenades..." ->TraderGranade]] [["The thing with his ‘premium’ rations..." ->TraderFood]]

I heard about this trader. Set up a shop on the edge of Lunard. Selling gear dirt cheap, right? But his rations were pricey. ‘Premium,’ meat-based, sealed in fancy cans with golden labels... [["Only if you tapped on the can..." ->TraderFoodPunchline1]] [["And it tasted great. Shame the business didn’t last long..." ->TraderFoodPunchline2]]

I heard about this trader. Set up a shop on the edge of Lunard. Selling gear dirt cheap, right? But he had a //special deal// on grenades. Five credits apiece, sometimes he even tossed one in as a freebie... [["You have to pay extra for the pin..." ->TraderGranadePunchline1]] [["A truly explosive business..." ->TraderGranadePunchline2]]

I heard about this trader. Set up a shop on the edge of Lunard. Selling gear dirt cheap, right? But he had a //special deal// on grenades. Five credits apiece, sometimes he even tossed one in as a freebie. Then one day a merc walks in, buys a grenade, and the trader goes: "Five credits for the grenade." "Sure, I am taking it!" The trader hands him the granade: "Two hundred for the pin." Mercury and Pavel chuckle. Ezekiel just rolls his eyes and sighs. [["Hold up, I’ve got another one..." ->TellAnekdote]] [["Pavel’s turn." ->AnekdoteEnd]]

I heard about this trader. Set up a shop on the edge of Lunard. Selling gear dirt cheap, right? But he had a //special deal// on grenades. Five credits apiece, sometimes he even tossed one in as a freebie. Only catch: the pin costs extra. So, naturally: his business exploded. Literally. Mercury lets out a quick laugh. Pavel and Ezekiel both roll their eyes. [["Hold up, I’ve got another one..." ->TellAnekdote]] [["Alright, I told mine. Pavel’s turn." ->AnekdoteEnd]]

I heard about this trader. Set up a shop on the edge of Lunard. Selling gear dirt cheap, right? But his rations were pricey. ‘Premium,’ meat-based, sealed in fancy cans with golden labels. And it tasted great. Nice food, really. Shame the business didn’t last long. He had to close down once all the hobos, stray dogs and cats in the area ran out. Mercury lets out a quick laugh. Pavel and Ezekiel both roll their eyes. [["Hold up, I’ve got another one..." ->TellAnekdote]] [["Alright, I told mine. Pavel’s turn." ->AnekdoteEnd]]

I heard about this trader. Set up a shop on the edge of Lunard. Selling gear dirt cheap, right? But his rations were pricey. ‘Premium,’ meat-based, sealed in fancy cans with golden labels. Only if you tapped on the can with your finger… you could hear a muffled ‘woof-woof’ from inside. “Ha… not bad,” Mercury nods approvingly. “Meh,” Pavel grumbles. [["Alright, alright. Let me tell another one..." ->TellAnekdote]] [["Your turn, Pavel." ->AnekdoteEnd]]

I met this merc on the road to Lunard once. Fresh rookie, green as moss. But he had a fancy gun loaded with attachments. Spent all his money on it… and completely forgot about armor. And since some kind of protection is better than none, the genius strapped frying pans and cooking pots all over himself, and wore a cast-iron cauldron on his head. Real cookware, top quality. Then during a thunderstorm, lightning struck him dead center. Smelled like steak and fresh stew. And I never thought the phrase ‘fried his brains’ could be used so literally. “Ha… not bad,” Mercury nods approvingly. “Meh,” Pavel grumbles. [["Alright, alright. Let me tell another one..." ->TellAnekdote]] [["Your turn, captain." ->AnekdoteEnd]]

“Alright, fine,” Pavel grumbles reluctantly. “So, two rookies go out on a raid…” And so, between jokes and stories, with music buzzing through the speakers, the road slips by almost unnoticed.(set: $PavelGood to it +1) [[But all good fun comes to an end eventually… ->LostCapital]]

“Why did he accept the job? Especially since, by his generous assessment, we’re not exactly cut out for this mission.” “Money,” Pavel answers plainly. [["Money?" ->ReallyPavel3]] [["That’s it? No tragic story about a ‘final job,’ sick relatives, or a dream of retiring from merc work?” ->ReallyPavel3]] [["This is kind of anticlimactic." ->ReallyPavel3]]

“That’s fair,” Pavel nods. Mercury just snorts, clearly unconvinced. You might’ve been honest, but neither of them seems to have bought it. [["All this talk about goals and lofty ambitions is making me want to hang myself from boredom. Mercury, weren’t you the one complaining earlier? Tell us something funny, then." ->Anekdote]] [[Keep driving in silence ->SilentRide]]

Two mutants meet on the highway. One asks the other: "How do you help a drowning pureblood?" "Never seen a pureblood drown," tells the second mutant. "How do you?" [["No way..." ->MutantPurePunchline1]] [["You need to throw in the others..." ->MutantPurePunchline2]] [["It is simple: stop drowning him..." ->MutantPurePunchline3]]

Two mutants meet on the highway. One asks the other: "Why so pale and miserable?" The other can barely stand, swaying side to side. He grumbles... [["These damn mercs..." ->MutantBloodPunchline1]] [["I’m tired. Just coming back from a funeral..." ->MutantBloodPunchline2]]

Two mutants meet on the highway. One asks the other: "How do you help a drowning pureblood?" "Never seen a pureblood drown," tells the second mutant. "How do you?" The first replies: "You don’t. The sin of mommy and daddy’s inbreeding drags him straight to the bottom!" Mercury and Pavel chuckle. Ezekiel just rolls his eyes and sighs. [["Hold up, I’ve got another one..." ->TellAnekdote]] [["Pavel’s turn." ->AnekdoteEnd]]

Two mutants meet on the highway. One asks the other: "How do you help a drowning pureblood?" "Never seen a pureblood drown," tells the second mutant. "How do you?" The first replies: "You throw in the rest of the pureblood fanatics so he’s not lonely!" Mercury and Pavel chuckle. Ezekiel just rolls his eyes and sighs. [["Hold up, I’ve got another one..." ->TellAnekdote]] [["Pavel’s turn." ->AnekdoteEnd]]

Two mutants meet on the highway. One asks the other: "How do you help a drowning pureblood?" "Never seen a pureblood drown," tells the second mutant. "How do you?" The first replies: "Step one: stop holding him underwater." Mercury and Pavel chuckle. Ezekiel just rolls his eyes and sighs. [["Hold up, I’ve got another one..." ->TellAnekdote]] [["Pavel’s turn." ->AnekdoteEnd]]

Two mutants meet on the highway. One asks the other: "Why so pale and miserable?" The other can barely stand, swaying side to side. He grumbles: "These damn mercs. You can’t even drink their blood without getting a hangover. They chug vodka and beer like it’s water!" Mercury and Pavel chuckle. Ezekiel just rolls his eyes and sighs. [["Hold up, I’ve got another one..." ->TellAnekdote]] [["Pavel’s turn." ->AnekdoteEnd]]

Two mutants meet on the highway. One asks the other: "Why so pale and miserable?" The other can barely stand, swaying side to side. He grumbles: "I’m tired. Just coming back from a funeral." "Who died?" "Mercenaries." "Then why so tired?" "Bastards kept digging themselves out. Three times." Mercury and Pavel chuckle. Ezekiel just rolls his eyes and sighs. [["Hold up, I’ve got another one..." ->TellAnekdote]] [["Pavel’s turn." ->AnekdoteEnd]]

“Boooring,” Pavel yawns. “Another pocket vigilante with the classic ‘bandits killed my family, now I’ll wear a mask and fight crime’ story.” “And who exactly are you planning to ‘bring to justice’?” Mercury asks with lazy curiosity. But there’s a hint of something more behind her tone. “This is my business, and mine alone.” [["All this talk about goals and lofty ambitions is making me want to hang myself from boredom. Mercury, weren’t you the one complaining earlier? Tell us something funny, then." ->Anekdote]] [[Keep driving in silence ->SilentRide]]

“Eh…” Mercury sighs. “What is it?” you ask. “Nothing,” she waves it off. “I was just hoping to hear something a little more interesting.” Unexpectedly, Ezekiel cuts in: “Ambition is healthy. A person who doesn’t strive for greatness or progress might as well already be dead and forgotten by this world.” [["All this talk about goals and lofty ambitions is making me want to hang myself from boredom. Mercury, weren’t you the one complaining earlier? Tell us something funny, then." ->Anekdote]] [[Keep driving in silence ->SilentRide]]

“Heh, another wandering drifter with no backbone,” Pavel remarks dryly. “Oh please,” Mercury shoots back. “Like you’re some paragon of willpower and strength? If you were, you wouldn’t be heading to the Capital with us.” Seems she hit a nerve, Pavel doesn’t find a comeback. [["All this talk about goals and lofty ambitions is making me want to hang myself from boredom. Mercury, weren’t you the one complaining earlier? Tell us something funny, then." ->Anekdote]] [[Keep driving in silence ->SilentRide]]

“Especially since, by your own generous assessment, we’re not exactly cut out for this mission.” “Money,” Pavel answers plainly. [["Money?" ->Pavel?1]] [["That’s it? No tragic story about a ‘final job,’ sick relatives, or a dream of retiring from merc work?” ->Pavel?1]] [["Well, that’s kind of anticlimactic." ->Pavel?1]]

“Money. Just money,” the lizard repeats, just as calmly. “The rest is none of your damn business. We’re not friends, we’re not comrades, we’re just traveling together. No reason to dig into each other’s lives.” “Fine, keep your secrets,” you mutter. “And you, $Name,” Mercury turns to you. “Why did you agree to this insanity?” [[What is my goal, anyway? What should I tell them? ->ReallyName]] [["Why don’t you tell us about yourself first?" ->ReallyMercury]]