It had been on Kurma that you'd first heard the stories. Intricately woven orated fantasies of a world where the sea didn't rise up as the teeth of a beast and the sky didn't strike as a terror in the night. Where Jörmungandr and the Rok and Leviathan didn't plague the mind of every poor soul.

Places that exceeded even the tall grandeur of Kurma. Places where men sat in tall towers and drank golden wine as it streamed down the cleavage of the most beautiful virgins any man had ever witnessed. A world without hunger, without fear. A world of only pleasure and late nights and all manner of pleasure. And not a damn spot of rust to be seen.

Cut off from the rest of the world when the climate became too harsh for most to live after a solar storm of unprecedented power had taken most of the world off the grid. Left to rot after no company found it worth the investment to reclaim. Thus this chunk of earth and sea had been left to fall back into nature.

And the people, it seemed, had turned to fairytale and mysticism to explain what they no longer fully understood.

“Fuck!”

The man next to you pitches aside his handful of net, cursing and kicking through gritted teeth as his boot slams into the faded white fiberglass of the port gunwale. Likely a sliver of rope to the finger. Last one went right through your glove a few days back.

Taking this as the right opportunity, the captain calls for a break through his bushy, gray beard. His remaining good eye never leaving the exasperated sailor, lest he need to step in and diffuse a potential situation.

After all, it's not as though you're merely here to fish. The rust-red amalgamation of metal and wood hanging against your back serving as a constant reminder of that fact.

While it's certainly true that Kurma sends out a fair share of fishing parties, that isn't the reason you're here on this deck.

And now to attempt something I haven't tried before, which is some actual character building.

First, you need a background.

[ ] Mercenary – A relatively common career for anyone willing to accept great risk at the prospect of decent pay, mercenaries are found throughout the corporate sector. Usually employed by domineering empires of business or even small upstart companies in need of security from larger companies. Private armies have more or less become commonplace.

[ ] Assassin – No matter the place, year, time, or occasion, there is one simple fact of life. Someone, somewhere, wants someone else dead. A thriving marketplace of contract killing has emerged on the black market.

[ ] Bounty Hunter – With most police agencies being little more than fronts for either the mob or the iron fist of a corporation (sometimes both), it is quite easy to purchase your way out of a crime. Thus it falls to those willing to track down a criminal and bring him to justice, which all too often means hauling in a thief to the company he stole from. Where they are usually... Disposed of.

[ ] Engineer – System analysts and builders are perhaps the most sought after individuals. Usually offered a high salary within a massive company, most find themselves working long days and countless nights in order to push out the next product. Some, however, prefer the less legal trades.

>>26075341
[X] Engineer.

Oooh! Dis gonna be good!

[X] Engineer

>>26075341

[x]Engineer

We must appease the machine spirit for suffering the slight of the fleshbags upon it's decks.

>>26075341
[X] Engineer – System analysts and builders are perhaps the most sought after individuals. Usually offered a high salary within a massive company, most find themselves working long days and countless nights in order to push out the next product. Some, however, prefer the less legal trades.

Let's throw science at problems until they stop being problems.

>Papa-N
>Quest
>Not ZWQ

We'll never see the ending... And this greatly saddening to me.

>>26075341
[ ] Bounty Hunter
This sounds like fun.

>>26075419
Z&W is next this is just to get my foot back in the door. I don't expect it to hit more than maybe 10 threads at the most.

>>26075419


I agree, Bounty Hunter sounds sweets, though a combination bounty hunter/engineer sounds even better.

>>26075341
>[ ] Bounty Hunter
Time to be Loli Fett.

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>>26075463
LIES! I won't believe you anymore!

>>26075463
A-And then HLQ 1.5?

It appears Engineer has won out but I suppose there's nothing wrong with being a bounty-hunter as well. You may continue to vote on the background choice as these additional selections are made.

As this takes place in the future, and you're the MC, you're obviously a cyborg. Please select a type.

[ ]Type 1: Industrial

Industrial implants in humans are relatively old-tech now. Used primarily for coding machinery and field repairs in situations requiring more than a mere human, though too delicate for a robot. Industrial cyborgs are equipped to survive in harsh, unforgiving conditions. However their tough bodies are made for industry, rather than combat.
-Jacked in: Hardline capable on any accepting port
-Engineer: Boosted repair capabilities

[ ]Type 2: War

War cyborgs are not much more than one would expect from the name. Commissioned mostly in private armies of the wealthy and powerful, War cyborgs forgo many of the abilities of their Industrial counterparts in lieu of toughened frames, armor, and weapon suites.
-Hard to Kill: Advanced armor and reinforced frame make War cyborgs more impervious to damage
-Warmachine: War cyborgs come not only equipped with strength several times that of any human, but with in-built weapon systems as well

[ ]Type 3: Black Market

Black market cybernetics is nothing new but remain the only cyborgs in any sort of production numbers. Relegated mostly toward assassins, thieves, and thugs, Black market cyborgs encompass a wide range of functions. Most common, however, are those made for less than legal operations involving great bodily harm toward unlucky individuals and or high net robbery.
-Flayer: Black market weaponry geared toward making a mess and inflicting gruesome wounds. Additional implants provide enhanced hacking of a different nature, primarily breaking though security measures.
-Stealth: Buffered musculature and dampened parts reduce noise, while modern coatings reduce IR and electromagnetic signatures.

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>>26075509
You'd best start believing.

>>26075519
More like 2 since it's a direct sequel and not a spin-off.

>>26075527
[X]Type 1: Industrial

Full techgeek up in here.

>>26075527
[X] Type 1: Industrial.

>>26075527
Mmm... tough pick.

>[ ]Type 1: Industrial

The Black Market one could be fun though.

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>>26075555
>You'd best start believing.
No! You've broken my heart too many times now!

Lets go Black Market. Full Shadowrun here~!

>>26075555
I meant the Olympics Interlude.

>>26075527
>[ ]Type 1: Industrial

>>26075527
>[x]Type 3: Black Market

Anything else is child's play

>>26075527
Black Market Bounty Hunter, awwww yeaaaaah.

>>26075527
[X] Type 1

Combat Engineers are some sturdy folk, and they can stay calm while shit's blowing up around them. Which leads me to vote for stability.

>>26075527
>[x]Type 1: Industrial
Good to see you Papa.

>>26075618
To be honest this quest is just to shake off the dust and get back into things, I already have several steps planned out for Z&W. The most difficult part being opening it back up with enough following for it to run.

>>26075636
Well we could do that but I'd rather write about very important individuals winding up dead, Eight growing two feet in under a year, and the issue of the 'nids starting a massive offensive.

It appears the choices have been made. Since this is for fun let's go with an Engineer with a black market industrial cybernetics package.

And for the last choice...

Nanomachines

[ ]Standard:

Standard nanomachines are still relatively new, groundbreaking tech. Primarily marketed toward the wealthy with a variety of functions, nanomachines have become quite the sought-after addition. Their newfound status as a symbol of wealth and fashion has only drove up costs further, making them quite unobtainable by the poverty stricken masses.
-Hands Free: Nanomachines can uplink with the global neural net and perform a variety of functions through information databases, privately run nodes, and if the user is skilled enough, underground hives of scum and villainy. As expected, hackers have already found a plethora of uses.
-Regeneration: Nanomachines can work together to some extent on healing tissues and repairing circuitry. Though still in the early stages, this field is being explored at an ever more rapid rate as humans strive toward a cure-all.

>>26075802

[ ]Viral:

Viral nanomachines emerged during the earliest stages of nanomachine research. It was found that these machines took quite readily toward infecting new hosts. However they were not always found welcome by new bodies. As a result of a plague of deaths, Viral nanomachines quickly found themselves outlawed. To little surprise, the underground quickly adopted their development, tweaking them for their own, usually nefarious, uses.
-BSOD: Viral nanomachines are quite adept at destroying the functionality of any compatible machine or opposing nanomachine. Massive security systems have been put in place in attempts to stop these occurrences, however often find themselves several steps behind. As expected, Viral nanomachines have become quite a hot item in the crime world.
-Overload: All nanomachines are powered by the user's own body, which generates enough energy to power the miniscule devices. However Viral tech has branched off significantly in terms of charge capacity. Viral nanomachines can be used in interesting and often lethal ways not seen in their more legal counterparts. It should be noted, however, that any such use carries a substantial risk to the host, as this technology has not been fully explored, especially in any sort of scientific setting.

>>26075802
>[x]Standard

>>26075802
>[ ]Standard:
Sounds good to me.

[X] Viral.

>>26075802
[X]Standard:

We seem like a fixer, not a hitter.

>>26075802
>[x] Standard
Sneaky, hacky, hard to kill? Sounds like a good time.

>>26075463
>25 THREADS LATER

Regen sounds good, and with the type of body that was picked we should be pretty hard to kill.

>>26075802
Standard, hands-free

...We're not suppose to be picking subpowers too, are we? Or just the broader class?

>>26075896
Don't jinx me, now.

Most fishing boats aren't armed with deck guns of this caliber.

Said deck guns looming overhead serving as a fairly constant reminder of exactly what it is you're here doing. Because while fish certainly have a market price, it is insignificant when compared to bringing something back like, say, a working holoprojector. Or sexbot. You'd heard the stories and those guys apparently live like kings now. As soon as they figured out how to get it to stop breaking things, as it were. You didn't have the heart to tell these people that their treasured finds were decades-old tech where you come from.

No, the bounty of the sea isn't why you're here. You and the gang comprised mostly of the known murderers of Kurma are here for what hopefully lays abandoned on the small island seen only two days ago by the barely-working systems of the vessel. Never mind that it had been you who'd programmed in the coordinates, as you very much know what you're looking for, here. In a place described to you by the last coded whispers of a dead man's nanomachines.

The violent, unpredictable seas swallow land whole often enough to where this is not an entirely rare occurrence. However, for the most part, there is next to nothing to be found.

A month ago it had been piles of rusted chain, crumbled concrete, and an uncomfortable amount of high tide odor thanks to several giant sharks that had found themselves trapped in quickly evaporated pools. Nothing worth a damn.

That had been your first time out with this crew, and judging by the reactions you'd seen, such pitiful discoveries were quite the norm. Though there had been some revelry in the fact that nobody had gotten sliced, burned, or shot full of holes. Which apparently is not an infrequent occurrence.

Now, as you steam headlong toward the crashing waves of that distant beach, you can't help but feel the building apprehension. It has taken you far longer than you'd originally anticipated to steer this crew toward this location, at the right time.

To that small island in the distance, only hours ago still undersea.

>>26076056
I think that jinx would make this quest short lived.

now, if he said you'd be on schedule THAT'S when we get a new record for longest running quest ever.

Besides, more Z&W means more Goat quest. and who doesnt want more of Goat kiara in the Zone?

Not all these men are here for riches and glory. Nor even for the steady, if meager pay. Some of these men have yet to clear their names and most of those wonder if they will last long enough to see that day. Which isn't something you can promise them with where you're headed.

It takes five years as part of this crew to redeem yourself for ending another man in cold blood. And what might seem like first as an easy choice compared to the decades rotting in the cold guts of Kurma is made quite more complex when one notices that very few ever clear their names. Most don't last that long. Though you notice there has been no official tally as to the number of those men who managed to, for instance, slip away into a pirate crew or otherwise escape.

A call comes out from the captain, and again you begin hauling the nets. A task made no easier by several men griping that, not too long ago, they'd had a real, working winch to do the job in their stead.

One mundane catch of potpourri of the sea later, and the ship can get to really steaming. This leaves you and the rest of the men with enough time to do whatever it is they do before embarking. For you, it's a simple check of gear and your internal systems.

After that, it's to the boats. Horrible little fucking boats. Awful, rubber-sided glorified rafts with sputtering ancient engines bolted on wherever they find room to make one fit. Everything else is stripped out and lightened up. Perhaps in hope that there might actually be bounty to be had that is worth hauling back to the ship you're now leaving in the distance.

If it wasn't immediately made obvious to you that you're toward the lower end of chain, the difference in equipment makes that quite apparent. Compared to your truly ancient and primitive rifle, those more seasoned are usually armed with substantially newer and certainly superior equipment. Flat black carbines, some even with working electronics, fill the hands of the veterans. Weapons usually pilfered from some place or another, though some were procured through more legal means. Or so you've been told.

Well, you admit, at least you don't have the worst gun of the crew. Yours might be old, rusty, corroded. The faded wood, long absent any finish, might give you splinters. The thin, wire stock may be only half as comfortable as it was before becoming pitted and warped. But at least it shoots straight.

...ish.

Not that you really know how to use it as well as you'd perhaps like, here in this untamed wild. Your experience with firearms has been brief, to say the least, and you find you'd much rather someone else be doing the shooting. You're substantially more comfortable working with a holo than you are with a trigger.

This isn't exactly where you'd expected yourself to end up. Not after graduating top of your class in systems engineering. You'd been, by all accounts, a brilliant pupil. No sooner had you accepted your diploma than a VTOL had landed to whisk you away to the laboratory you'd be working in.

As you'd expected, you had begun in relatively mundane works. Tweaking new generation nanomachines to fit the whims and desires of those who could actually afford them. Though dull, the lab had garnered you ample experience in all manner of nanomachine construction and programming. After proving yourself quite capable, you had been more or less left to your own inventive devices.

Such tranquil work, however, had not lasted long for you.

You had been transferred, rather abruptly, to a division within your company that you had not previously been aware of. Where what it is you were working on was not made clear to you. The tasks has been as simple as they had been complex, and you knew for certain that what you had been working on was but a piece of a much larger puzzle.

Advanced power management. Cybernetic musculature of unprecedented strength. These things you had surmised on your own. Whatever it was you were working on, you were more than a little suspicious was not merely a new-age warehouse drone.

Just as bizarre, you knew that whatever the end product was, it was not even in the same facility as you and the rest of the team.

However the pay had been substantial. Enough to afford you all the comforts you'd never had growing up in the slums. A costly high-rise apartment with a view overlooking the city beneath, a city that never slept, paused, or even slowed. One of the greatest technological centers of the thriving world. Robots had seen to your every whim in what little time you'd actually spent at home.

For just as strange as the work had first been, it had only grown more so after you'd first met with Dr. Kurchev. A middle-aged man in his sixties, and the head of the entire project.

As upbeat and industrious as you and your fellow workers had been, so wrapped up in the luxuries of modest wealth, Kurchev had been perhaps entirely opposite. A hermit, by all account, who spent every waking hour with drink in hand. Neurotic, eccentric, and crazy. That's how you first would have described him.

That was, until, he'd called you into his office mere hours before the building had exploded.

An industrial accident, they'd called it. Unfortunate issue with the reactor or some such, you hadn't bothered with the press release. Some of Kurchev had rubbed off on you, his paranoid vigilance, when you'd realized you had been the only one that survived of the entire project.

Kurchev had been short, curt, and to the point. He informed you that you should flee to somewhere, anywhere that was off the grid. That you needed to leave the building. That a hostile take-over of the corporation had occurred and plans had changed.

You hadn't time to question him before he'd ferried you out, through the loading docks, and into the crowded streets beyond. According to him, there wasn't time to explain.

According to him, you need only find project Vibrant. Before the one he simply referred to as “WD”, found it first.

Even more eerie, startling, even, was when you'd found a vial of blood in your labcoat pocket. A vial you certainly hadn't put there.

You'd had to analyze it from the shady motel in the east side ghettos that had become a temporary refuge. It hadn't taken a day even before your name was on every screen, citywide. The corporate police apparently seeking you out to question, implications that you had somehow triggered the blast.

After listening to the brief, garbled message left in Kurchev's blood, you knew that if you turned yourself in, it would likely be the last thing you did.

What he had left to you was little more than a warning and a set of coordinates. Those very same you'd plugged into the systems of Kurma. Why you were heading to somewhere this remote, you did not fully know. However you had an educated guess that, perhaps, this was where that final product might indeed reside. Why else would he have directed you here?

>>26076667
Everybody, turn your paranoia up to 11, trust no one, trust nothing, everything is out to get us.

>>26076667
>>26076693
Copy that, Mr. Johnson. Escalating to 1.5 Shadowruns

Oh god Papa-N! I missed you bro. Thank the god's you're back.

>>26076693
Its worth remembering that all of our dudes are expendable. Hell, we don't even know yet if we're the loli in the OP or if shes what we find down here.

“Yo, Grant!” The shout comes again, this time sounding quite annoyed, “How long are you planning on sitting there? Let's get moving already!”

Ah yes, “Grant”. The name you'd sputtered out when first asked, barely saving yourself from revealing your actual name. Though you're still not aware if anyone here would know the name Vadik Domnin. The young doctor that the world thought had perhaps blown up one of the largest tech labs in the world.

“Yes, right, I'm coming!” You announce, very aware that no one in particular cares as you climb out of the raft onto a glass shore.

As you gaze about this barren place, you're even less certain as to why you're here. What you'd expected and what actually is are so far distant that you're rather at a loss.

There are no giant buildings, no bustling movement of man and machine. There is only silence apart from the crashing of waves and cry of gulls. In front of you lays only desolation.

Resembling more the skeleton of a long rotted beast, pillars of steel spindle, twisted, toward the sky. Chunks of concrete the size of tanks litter the place, many burned black, many more melted against the glass beneath.

You're not much of a military nerd, but even you can tell that something hit this place. Something hit it hard.

Bending down to scratch your finger across the ground, feeling the glass warmed by the sun, you can only imagine the heat that caused all of this. You're not left to your thoughts for long as the captain calls you and the rest of the men over into a circle.

“Well boys this place ain't nothing like I've ever seen. Flyover didn't get us much in the way of pictures of these ruins, but we have a few things to go on.” He points out a few places on a rudimentary printed image, circled in red.

“Place to the north looks like maybe there's a building standing. Hard to be sure. Over here on the east, well this looks like maybe a loading door to me, in the rocks, see it there?” He taps his finger around.

“And over here,” he gestures, “Well boys, now that's a ship. Cargo, looks to me.”

The veterans of the crew murmur noticeably at this, as to them it likely represents the greatest opportunity for salvage.

“Take your pick and call in anything you find. As for me...” The captain pulls out a flask and an expandable rod, “I've got better things to do than muck about in some rubble. That's what I've got you lot for!” He laughs heartily.

[ ] Join the crew north toward what could be a standing building.

[ ] Head east toward the possible underground entrance

[ ] See if you can throw in with the veterans on the remains of that ship

>>26076919
[X] Head east toward the possible underground entrance

If there is anything to be found it will be in the lower levels of the facility.

>>26076919
>[x] Head east toward the possible underground entrance
Adventure!

>>26076919
>[ ] Head east toward the possible underground entrance
Sounds like a super secret.
Maybe we can find some electronics unglassed.

>>26076919
>[ ] Head east toward the possible underground entrance

>>26076919
>[ ] Head east toward the possible underground entrance
We're here on a secret quest to find... something. Sticking with the main group isn't gonna help.

Though the tall building is certainly a point of interest, your experience with electronics tells you that anything inside of it has likely been turned to slag. Judging by what you can see, nothing on this island has been left untouched by whatever weapon wrought such destruction.

A point made only more obvious as you begin to head east, which is as much a trek over land as it is scaling up and down the remains of what were, at one time, buildings. You're even more aware, as you step into what little remains of a foundation, that someone wanted this entire place to vanish.

“Yo Grant, keep up. Nothing to gawk at here, wait until we actually find something.”

Despite those words, you really can't help but stare. The scientist in you wants to know what caused this, the same as it ignores the possibility of dangers. You were never one for mockups or small scale.

You are, however, the only one with his gun slung and not in his hands. A point that somewhat amuses you, because if anyone had been here, the heat alone that had taken place would have turned them to vapor almost instantly. Even the temperatures underground must have reached insane levels, judging by pits that sink down into dark abysses too deep for the eye to see.

It takes a good several hours of hiking to finally reach the destination, an imposing rockface extending a few hundred feet upward. Even here, things are melted, burnt, glassed.

Sure enough, the giant steel doors set into the side of the cliff have not survived unscathed. Though you notice, they don't appear melted shut, either.

“Looks like we're blowing our way in. Tick, get out the charges.” One of the veterans shoves a small, wiry man forward, which nearly topples him over, so top-heavy is he with that stuffed backpack.

[ ] Interject. The doors might still have power and you may be able to open them without charges.

[ ] Let them blow it open.

>>26077210
>[x] Let them blow it open.
No need to reveal anything important.

>>26077210
Hmm, if we interject we might be giving ourselves away as someone who knows way more than they should, which could make everyone else untrusting and jumpy. Could even lead to a confrontation.

On the other hand, letting them blow the doors could damage or even destroy whatever's in there.

>>26077210
Can we use cyborg strength to rip the doors open?

If not, let them blow them.

>>26077210
>[x] Let them blow it open.

Blow the door. Its more important to keep a low profile for now.

>>26077210
[X] Let them blow it open.

Looks like the area was destroyed by large scale energy weapons.

>>26077210
If we can do it sneaky like, and pretend there was an override button or something, I say we do it that way.

Otherwise, thar she blows.

As much as you'd rather forgo the explosives and let yourself have a bit of fun hacking the door open the less-barbaric way, you remain silent. You have yet to meet anyone else on Kurma who openly has any cybernetic enhancements, let alone nanomachines. Better to stay quiet and not reveal your hand.

Tick, his actual name unknown to you, is more than happy to oblige the request. No sooner have the rest of the group found somewhere to sit and dig out their own flasks before Tick is already sticking explosives all along the seam of the massive doors.

Truthfully you don't know much about explosives in practice, just their chemical compounds and the like. Which is why you know that despite the charges being some old and rather outdated formula, they should be enough to achieve the desired effect of opening up the door enough to allow a man to duck in.

You watch the skinny man work with growing anticipation as he goes between sizing up his own work and applying more charge. Though you can't help but suspect that he isn't exactly using it as per regulations, what with the head-sized chunks he sticks on before pushing detonators into.

“Yo Tick! TICK!” The veteran in charge finally has to stand up and pull the smaller man back, “That's enough, man. We want to get in here, not collapse the tunnel.”

“What? Ah, ah right, yeah. Well no but I might need... See there's this empty...” The man sputters, his token eye tick going full-tilt, almost as if he's seizing right then and there.

But the veterans aren't having any of it as they trudge off to take cover behind the remains of what was, perhaps not too long ago, a wall.

“Everybody down!” The call goes out, and you duck low just as everyone else does.

Not a moment later and Tick, grinning ear to ear, depresses the detonator switch.

And nothing.

“Fucking damn it, Tick, I thought you were supposed to be...”

The resounding explosion is so violent that the unglassed sand kicks up all around you into the air, swirling in the sea wind. You work your jaw and blink your eyes, thankful your implants prevented any sort of concussive damage.

Whereas everyone else seems to have gone a bit deaf, being that they all begin to talk in rather loud yells interrupted by a lot of “WHAT?!” and “I CAN'T HEAR YOU!”

But as the sand and dust settle, it's plain to see that the explosives have done their job. Certainly not a pretty one, flakes of metal littering the ground, but workable. A gap large enough to walk into opened in the underground, you see, which appears to lead quite far down.

“Alright, everybody on their guard. I don't know about you fags, but I don't fancy a cluster of flechettes in my back.” The leader grunts as he ducks into the passage first, switching on his weapon light to see inside the pitch black cavern.

You rather wish they hadn't brought the lights, as your ocular implants are more than capable of piercing through the darkness, and the lights just cause issues. Though after a few moments of tweaking systems, you make it workable.

>>26077844
Watch for traps! If we've got night vision filters, we may have the best eye for problems before they start.

Despite yourself, you can't help but heft your own rifle in your hands now. No matter what your scientific mind says about odds and heat death, lack of power, you can't help but feel the trepidation as you descend.

The presence of a great deal of heat, even down here, is evident. What may have been screens on the wall at one time, now remain little more than melted remains, as if the walls themselves had bled black.

One of the men, in addition to holding his rifle, also has an old wide-range electronic scanner in his other hand. You neglect to tell him that any technology worth its salt stopped being picked up by those at least a decade ago. A metal detector would do him more good.

Despite the inky blackness of this place, your nanomachines have already picked up on what remains of the building's net. Though much of it is behind a security system that would require some work on your end to break into, some parts are quite open.

Perhaps most important of all is a layout.

Roust Combat Plant, orient location.

This raises more than a twinge of suspicion, paranoia, and alarm.

You used to work for Roust Corporation, before they announced you were suspected of blowing up one of their tech branches.

Shaking off these feelings, you analyze the map, though much of it remains censored. You can tell this loading area leads to the warehouse of a manufacturing plant for what appears to be drone tankettes. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that would be worth blowing your work up and glassing this place over. Roust may be the world's leader in such things, but it isn't as though competition has reached that level of animosity.

No, you're far more interested in what lies in the sections of the map not available for regular access. Even your 08 level security clearance doesn't let you see what's there.

The group your with show no signs of branching off toward those censored sections of map. Rather, they're headed right toward the drone warehouse. Which though it may yield untold wealth for them, isn't of particular interest to you. Drones don't operate without command from somewhere, usually a series of control locations elsewhere.

You could certainly split off, rather than remain with the group.

>action(s)/talk?

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I came to this thread for lolis in hard-light suits.

I'm only somewhat disappointed.

>>26078006
Wait until we find the drones and then go all "gotta find the controls, eh"

>>26078006
just keep swimming

>>26075555
>>26075235
Did you draw these?
>>26078006
Be subtle.

>>26078006
Tell the boss this will be quicker if we split up. Then scram.

>>26078006
Tell them that you're going to go look for what passes for a command room, and that you may find the codes to activate any machines that remain useable.

>>26078006
Split off, say you're going to look for some sort of control room.

>>26078171
Yes. I'm improving, if only a tiny bit.

Rather than branch off on your own, which would most certainly arouse suspicion, you decide to stick with the reset of the group. Which certainly has its own advantages, mostly safety and availability of manpower.

It's not as though they won't explore as much as they can, but they will most certainly stop to gawk at what is almost assuredly row upon row of drone. A long time ago you might have shared that schoolboy glee, but now a drone is more or less just another drone to you.

Sure enough, after walking past silent conveyers and all manner of truck and lift, you come to the first actual painted arrow.

Some old traditions die hard.

Warehouse 01 ->

It points the exact way you've been walking.

"Warehouse! Hell yeah, betchu there's some shit down in there!" One man hoots, which is followed by a torrent of speculation as to just how many sexbots a cavern this vast might hold.

The warehouse doors, you find, are already open. The small beams from the weaponlights barely penetrating, so dark the insides.

"Flares!" The leader calls, and one by one men toss handfulls of flares into the open beyond. Red lights dance across the concrete floor, sliding to a stop only after skipping and sliding.

All to reveal.

"Nothing?" One man pipes up, as all of you gaze about, not a single drone in sight.

You seem to be the only one aware of the vague traces of oil on the floor, and the tread and bootmarks imprinted in them.

>talk/actions?

>>26078327
Point out the boot and tread marks, tell them that there might be something around, have them take point and head that way, tell them that if there's good stuff it'll probably be over there.

>>26078327
"It's been looted. There must be another way in."

Check if the bootprint is old or recent. If its new we should be careful. If its old then there's not much to worry about.

>>26078327
Try and see if there are any markings on the floor to indicate the direction the drones left, and then point out the boots to the others.

>>26078327
Run up in the middle

"Hey you were right, it's the new invisible model"

>>26078450
Trolling the boss? I'm all for it. But let one of the expendables go first.

Bending down once inside the vast empty space, you run two fingers through the oil and let your nanomachines work. Only 7% breakdown. This has to be relatively fresh.

"Well shit, let's hope this entire place hasn't been emptied out." One of the men grunts, followed by a flurry of similar comments.

"These are tracks." Another pipes up, saving you the hassle. He points out the spots on the floor.

"Fresh?" The leader asks, pointing his weaponlight.

"It's oil, impossible to know."

[ ] Pipe up

[ ] Remain silent

[ ] Suggest someone has already been here or it was otherwise cleared out

>>26078450
A little late for this so keep quiet

>>26078549
>[x] Suggest someone has already been here or it was otherwise cleared out
We need to start herding them toward the areas we want, so they can walk into all the traps for us. This seems like a good time to start subtly moving our pawns around.

>>26078549
[X] Suggest someone has already been here or it was otherwise cleared out

"No idea, and also no idea if whatever did this is still here or not, I know I wouldn't stick around.

That being said, this warehouse was cleared out by something, it should have been full of things."

Get them to follow the footprints, they take point, they take the hits from whatever is over there and any traps, we reap any rewards.

>>26078549
>[ ] Pipe up
But lie about it. Say it's a gut feeling.

>>26078549
>[X] Pip up.
Say something about dust being disturbed or something.

>>26078644
I like this plan. We can hit up the restricted areas undisturbed on the way out.

"Looks like someone already cleared this place out to me." You speak up, all eyes turning toward you, as this is rather unprecedented for you.

"Foot tracks and some sort of motorized cart I'd guess. I'm no tracker but to me these look fresh, disturbances in the dust, which means someone else might still be here and might have all the loot we want. I mean check this place out, it had to be full of something." You continue.

For a moment, there isn't a reaction.

"Mother fuckers. Ain't nobody got time to come all the way out here for nuffin." One of the newer recruits spits.

"He's right, this shit is ours to take!" Another chimes in.

The stamp of a hard boot heal silences the group and the leader steps into the red, flickering light cast from one of the flares.

"If anyone else is down here then they're probably at least as armed as we are. We aren't taking any chances so I want you all on alert." He says through the stub of a stimstik.

"Looks like they went that way to me." You gesture toward the direction that will lead you to the darkened parts of the map. Luckily enough, the tracks do seem to be heading that direction.

The group gets back on its feet and starts moving. These men aren't here to mess around, especially with the scent of possible treasure in the air. Thus it doesn't take long before you're on route to where it is you really want to explore.

Notably absent after a few long hallways and several already opened blast-proof doors. Leading you to believe anyone who was here left in a hurry. The entire place gives off a rather disturbing aura.

>>26078960
>Notably absent after a few long hallways and several already opened blast-proof doors are any signs of direction. Replaced by clutters of machinery and dropped holoscreens.

blah

>>26078960
So whoever did this had the clearance or they have everything you have. Either way they are waiting for you.

>>26079152
Also probably have heavy weaponry.

Though every once and a while you catch a glimpse of slick oil on the ground, sometimes with a tread or bootmark or both. Whatever it is that's leaking, it seems to be moving.

Or rather, they seem to be moving.

Deeper and deeper now into the blanked parts of the map, where your only sense of direction is forward and back the way you came, leaving little to go on.

At least you aren't searching alone, men ducking into doorways all around you, scanning for anything of worth. Already many of them have backpacks out, stuffing in screens and parts, assorted things that are probably nothing more than trinkets to them. You doubt any of them could wire a drone receiver to work in any sort of way, after all.

The further you walk, the more bored you become. Certainly you weren't supposed to come here for some assorted parts and meandering, orderless drones. At least, you assume and hope they are orderless.

Drones can be set to simply wander, or patrol, when disconnected from any control signal or program.

"Whoa!" One of the men cries from a side-door as he scrambles backwards, trying to get his gun sling untangled from his backpack.

Following him out is a model you recognize. A RID02, or Recon Intelligence Drone, model 2.

A squat, lightly armed quadruped that was designed to investigate places you didn't want to send more expensive machines without information.

Judging by its current state, weapon angled down and sensors scanning but neck not extended, it's no threat.

This doesn't stop no less than eight men from lighting it up.

By the time the leader gets them to stop, the small drone is resting against the doorframe, its hull in tatters and its sensor neck extended, though broken in half.

"Sheeit, that all?" The first man to fire boots the little robot back into the room it had emerged from.

The far-off sound of at least a dozen dynamic reactors firing to life, signals to you at least, that no, that was not all.

>>26079290
What a senseless waste of valuable robots.

>>26079462
This is how the uprising in the Matrix started. Someone shot a robot, surrounding robots ripped him apart.

>>26079512
Why can't it be robutts instead?

"What's that noise?" "You all hear that?" "Someone fire a bike up?" Comes a myriad of voices from the group. All wrong, but how could they possibly know?

"Whatever it is, get ready because it's coming." The leader grits his teeth and loads a grenade into his launcher.

As if that could possibly have any real effect on a TK-17 and its depleted uranium armor. That is if he could even get a shot off before a .480c caseless tri-barelled machinegun didn't shred him first.

Or if the concussive blast from twin rocket pods didn't turn you all to jellied corpses first.

And that's if there were only one of them. There's a good chance these guys are going to get you killed if this is how they handle things.

[ ] Try to talk them out of fighting and into running

[ ] Dig in and try to fight

[ ] Leave them to the drones while you push on ahead

>[ ] Leave them to the drones while you push on ahead
I think its time to cut our losses

Pretend to panic and run screaming into the darkness.

>>26079646
[X] Try to talk them out of fighting and into running

Make up a story about a previous scavenging run in which the noise ended up being a kill bot.

>>26079646
>[X] Leave them
I'm sure they'll be fine.

>>26079646
>[ ] Leave them to the drones while you push on ahead
Pray we can amuse whatever SHODAN runs this inst-Oh fuck thats the OP image isn't it?

>>26079646
>[ ] Leave them to the drones while you push on ahead
Shout at them that this is a terrible idea.

>>26079646
[X] Try to talk them out of fighting and into running

>>26079646
>[x] Leave them to the drones while you push on ahead

Maybe yell back that it's hopeless

>>26079646
Now that I think about it if they all run, the motion will pick up on the drones' sensors. If you stay still they may just bypass in pursuit.

>Papa-N is back from the dead and is gonna continue Z&Q quest after this as well as HLQ2 electric boogaloo
truely all is right in the world now.

>>26079646
"Everyone who wants to live, RUN!"

Run and have Tick use his explosives to detonate a part of the ceiling onto the drones.

Or run and try to take control of the drones.

You know how hopeless staying here and trying to fight would be, and thus you can only impart a few words of wisdom before fleeing into the dark corridors beyond.

"Anyone who wants to live, run! Can't beat them drones, man!" You shout, taking your own advice and running full-tilt toward a side hallway leading off to who knows where. But anywhere is better than in the paths of those things if they're in kill-mode.

Quite to your dismay, all that follows is a stream of curses intermixed with "coward!" amongst other less sociable names.

The first thing you hear in the distance behind you, before the screaming wall of noise of several chainguns, is a small thump.

Guess he got that grenade off after all.

Now that you're on your own, you don't hide the fact that you're not exactly a regular human anymore. Your legs, built to carry impressive amounts of weight, are also capable at propelling you at a decent clip. Fast enough to outrun a TK-17? No. But fast enough to where they won't find you.

It also opens up the opportunity to take the time to hack the remainder of the map, though this carries its own risks. You check your remaining energy levels, which you haven't had a good chance to charge with how little eating you've done recently. 65%. Not as much as you'd like, but not terribly low.

[ ] Clean hack - Low chance of detection. Slowest. 25% charge use.

[ ] Dirty hack - High risk of detection. Fastest. 10% energy charge

[ ] No hack, who needs a map?

>>26080172
>[ ] No hack, who needs a map?
Just follow our nose.
by which I mean straight forwards, as far away as possible.

>>26080172
[x] Clean hack - Low chance of detection. Slowest. 25% charge use.

A moment of silence for our loving convict buddies

>>26080172
>[ ] Clean hack - Low chance of detection. Slowest. 25% charge use.

[x] Dirty hack
Save that charge for when we -really- need it.
At this point, it's probably already known that there are intruders.

>>26080172
>Clean hack
Nothing like a few casualties to prove your point, make it look like combat stress "I've never been in some shit like this before. Sorry guys"

>>26080172
>[X] Clean Hack
One of the rooms may be a generator room or mess hall.

>>26080172
[X] No hack, who needs a map?

No need for maps where we're going. If there's a wall in the way then it will blown up.

>new papa-n quest
I'm on my phone so I can't post an image, so just pretend I posted the dis gon be gud image of your choice.

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>>26080459

After you make it far enough away to be out of the path of the drones, you hope, you stop and find a space in a small closet to perform your hack. Thankfully the systems here are quite familiar to you, closely resembling those of the building you used to work in. Possibly designed by the same engineers, even.

However this isn't to say you don't take your time and make a proper job of it. A dirty hack, while fast and cheap on energy use, would likely alert the central computer to your presence and could possibly result in drones or other countermeasures being made aware to look out for you.

In a few quick moments, you're back out of the net dive with a full, working 3d map. No longer is anything censored, which means you can see every marked area.

Entire bays of drone assembly lines, some models of which you don't even recognize beyond the designation codes. More warehouses. Power plants. Even a agridome. This place was built to be rather self-sufficient.

However one thing, more than any other, really catches your eye.

Sector 03b - Vibrant Project.

This is what the doctor was talking about. This is possibly what you spent over a year of your life working on.

Possibly what your entire world was put into a tailspin over.

Even if you didn't initially want to go there, curiosity would have gotten the better of you. Even with the threat of drones, the threat of whatever you might find, you can beat down that inner scientist but he'll keep crawling back to you like a slum wife.

Which is why your feet, moving on their own, lead you toward sector 03b and whatever it is that resides there.

Absent the waving flashlights now, this place may as well be fully illuminated for how well you can see. Your advanced implants piercing the shroud of darkness, relaying everything right to your chip-laden brain. With the hack you pulled off, you're also able to open doors with a simple command, rather than needing to resort to anything as blatant as explosive.

You also have limited access to the security systems. Not control, but enough to have a faint idea as to where the drone herd is at. Which is far enough from you to afford a bit of relaxation.

When you finally find it, perhaps an hour later considering these halls were meant to be ridden through, not walked on, sector 03b is not quite what you had expected.

No flurry of android or flicker of holomonitor. No daunting guards.

Just a quiet, large expanse full of just as imposing and silent machinery. All leading down to a rather quaint little tube with something quite unexpected inside.

"...This is project Vibrant?" You mutter. Can't be.

But looking around again, there really isn't anything else in here. Aside from what appears to be some sort of backpack power source, likely made for a prototype war drone.

Perhaps this sight would be more impressive if you perhaps knew what project Vibrant was, what it was about, but the power to the local systems is off and the global net offers no such clues.

So for a minute you simply stand, staring at the little thing floating in suspension, eyes closed, annoyingly blue hair drifting upwards, blank expression on small face.

Something tells me that we're not leaving this place without it blowing up.

Either this is project Vibrant, or you've been put through a quite elaborate prank. Wouldn't be the first time. Some scientists get their kicks in bizarre ways.

You touch the glass, which draws no response. Eyes searching for anything, you spot something equally out of the ordinary. An analog jack. Tossing caution aside, you hook yourself in, your own body becoming a secondary power source for the machine. It offers you a few standard options, such as a system scan and such.

Far more interesting is the "release" option.

[ ] Active the release

[ ] Attempt to hack

[ ] Break open glass yourself

[ ] Other?

>>26081011
>[x] Attempt to hack
and if that doesn't work:
>[x] Break open glass yourself

>>26081011
[X] Attempt to hack

Try and find out what the container specifications are. It may give a clue as to the capabilities of the thing inside.

>>26081011
>[ ] Active the release

Sometimes the simplest option is the best.

[ ] Active the release
we came this far....

>>26081011
hack hack hack!

>>26081011
See if will tell you whether opening it will set an alarm off. If it doesn't
>Activate
If it does
Hack.

>>26081011
Activate

>>26081011
Release the whatever it is.

>>26081011

RELEASE THE PAPA-N

With caution not at the forefront of your thought process, the glaring orange "release" option beckons to you. If there's one thing you've learned in all your years of science, it's that to learn anything, one must experiment. Sometimes that involves a bit of risk.

You cue that node before backing out of the fiber optic connection, unplugging yourself in the process, and stand back.

For a brief moment, nothing happens.

Until her eyes fly open and all at once she comes exploding out of the tank, shards of glass and drops of liquid following in her wake.

The little girl rolls to a stop before pushing herself up onto two legs and simply standing there, staring at you.

Before you get a chance to speak, however, she acts first.

"Oi mighty fine weatha out there for seven bong, innit? You looking at mah globbers ya kiddididla? Outta plonk ya one right inna face fur that, swear on me mum m8."

>>26081378
Oh god, what have we unleased.
This isn't what I asked for.

>>26081378
U wot m8?

>>26081378

oh god what

>>26081378
>Britbong

into the trash it goes

>>26081378
Oh GREAT! She's Scottish! She's going to be a tiny girl version of the Scotsman!

>>26081378

I'm rekt I swaer on me mum m8

>>26081378
AHHHHHH KILL IT NOW. KILL IT NOW BEFORE IT CAN SPREAD.

>>26081378
oi m8 gab that @ me mug see whut happens wanker

Oh god. This isn't the hue I wanted.

>>26081378


Bravo, sir, what a tweest!

>>26081378
Purge the facility. It must not be allow to roam free.

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Oh god my inner ear. Why, Pap? You beautiful bastard, WHY?!

>>26081378
Maybe we can help her. Teach her to sound like Capt. Price mixed with Emma Watson.

>>26081610

BECAUSE HE LOVES US...

to frost a cake with our butts.

>>26081488
This is not the hue we once knew. This hue has been processed. Refined. Cut to the sharpist point before being ground down to a blunt, tearing tip. Years of research went into this specimen, hours upon hours of tweaking, testing, trying and twisting to create the most potent hue known to man. This is the neo-hue, and it finds us wanting.
It also probably wants some booze.

Rather, things around her start to act.

The backpack power source, sitting on a nearby pedestal, fires to life. Literally, as multiple boosters fire to life as the pack spins around the little girl once, before coming to rest with a resounding *click* on her back. A panel on its right side opens and as she raises an arm, a gauntlet begins to piece together over it, until, fully formed, the fingers work a few times.

The little girl tromps over to the pedestal, which you had thought empty, before hopping atop it. It depresses for several moments, covering the lower half of her body, and when she again emerges, it's wearing what appear to be some sort of boot.

For a second you think she's done as she turns back to face you, before something seems to click in her mind and, whipping back around, she plunges an arm into the pedestal device and withdraws it, now clad in what even you recognize as a weapon.

As all of this goes on, you're only growing more and more confused. This, to say the least, is not what you had expected.

A second time now, she turns toward you, and as she does, the entire facility snaps to life. Computers begin booting, the lights flick on, roomba12.0's zoom out to hastily clean the floor of broken glass and unknown fluids.

Which gives you ample time to see the TK-17 approaching from a side entrance.

Scratch that, two TK-17s.

Please tell me you have linguistic settings and this is just someones idea of a joke.

Oh god please.

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>>26081705

Before you can react, though you're quite uncertain as to the course of action that would involve, she does.

With an imposing battle cry for someone of such small stature, she leaps forth, gauntlet poised to strike. The TK-17 fires first, but the rounds only seem to whiz by her, harmlessly.

You're quite uncertain as to the little weapon's course of action as she grabs the turret of the nearest TK-17; but as she rips it out of its base, the metal of the drone screeching as cords and cable are snapped in two, and wings it at the other TK-17 with enough force to send the drone into the far concrete wall...

Well...

Maybe this is actually Project Vibrant. A thought you're not quite sure how to act on, as again, she turns to you.

And as her pupils reappear and turn to little hearts, she dons a toothy grin.

>incredibly powerful loli weapon wat do

>>26081705
Prayer seems appropriate.

>>26081735
She won't stand out at all.

>>26081735
Right. I suggest we book it back the way we came, in hopes that we can have the first drone kill us before she has time to speak.

>>26081735
'that was unexpected'

>>26081735
Give the poor girl something to wear, showing that much skin at her apparent age, just isn't right.

Then ask her what her name is, keep a calm face while screaming on the inside.

>>26081735
>loli wat do
Rene_descartes.jpg

>>26081828
The hue is strong with this one. She's gonna plonk us one in da gabber, m8.

>>26081735

Raise a fist to the air.

Scream KURRRRRRRRRRRCHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVVVVVVVVVVVVV

Realize that he was a registered pedophile

Sceam KURCHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV again

proceed to scream at Papa-N incoherently via Twitter

>>26081735
Pat head for a job well done. Hope that hand returns intact.

>>26081823


This, let her use our shirt. We are wearing a shirt, right?

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>>26081828
Captcha has just named her: Angell estaibu

>>26081735
Pat her on the head.

THEN RUN LIKE FUCK.

>>26081735
Deadpan "U wot m8"

It's a loli, so I want it. It's a loli superweapon, so I want it more.

But I don't want it to talk, and duct tape may not work on a super weapon. The Descartes will have to tread carefully, here.

>>26081735
Pat on head, show belly button, then go to bed.

>>26081977
Remove voice module?

>>26082018

REPROGRAM voice module.

With our D.

>>26082018
>>26082028
But there's the whole superweapon bit...

>>26082028
I don't think we carry around disk drives, or decryption programs strong enough to penetrate her defenses.

"Uhh... We'll you're uh... I'm... I'm Vadik..." You blurt your own name without even thinking, so at loss for words, "And you're um... You."

The little girl stares at you, her face faltering to a more puzzled state during your ramblings.

"And those drones, uh... I mean wow, that is some arm you have there..." You gaze around and even take a few small, tentative steps backwards. Until your heel actually comes into contact with a piece of the central vertebra system of the first TK-17.

Holy mother of satan you aren't even sure that level of strength is possible. You've heard of some new breakthroughs in carbon muscle fibers, but nothing to this extent. A TK-17 is supposed to be able to withstand a direct hit from a 175mm HEAT round fired from a MBT, and while full tanks are rather outdated, that is still a whole lot of munition.

And you just witnessed her dispatch two in less than a few seconds. With nothing more than a single hand. Though you digress, you really don't know what that gauntlet is.

"So um..." You falter.

"You're not supposed to be here, are you?" She finally interrupts with a sly tone and raised eyebrow.

>talk/question/action/flee

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>>26081854
>proceed to scream at Papa-N incoherently via Twitter

>>26081735

Pat that head!

>>26082100

Whoops.

>>26082086
"I so totally am. I have access codes and everything!"

"And thank fuck you can speak normally."

>>26082086

Ask her if she recongizes the name Kurchev

>>26082098
Hail comrade goat, lord of the tower. We seek your omnivorous wisdom. Loli superweapon, what do?

>>26082086
Take off our jacket and give it to her.

"Hey, you can talk. Great.

I was involved in this project and well everyone thinks it's my fault so I may as well find out what actually happened."

>>26082086
"Not according to the people who took over the place, but screw them they tried to frame me."

Try and see if she recognizes Kurchev's name.

>>26082086

"Do you know the name 'Kurche-'"

"KURRRRRRRRRRRRRCHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV"

pick up a Roomba 12.0. Attempt to insert head into Roomba. Violently.

>>26082315
And what if these future Roombas are the size of small buffaloes?

>>26082359

skip pick up. Proceed to bash head into one of these Roombas.

"Let's ignore that glaring detail at the moment and just say sort of." You remove your coat and offer it to her, a gesture she ignores by leveling her left arm at you. Perhaps you'd best tread cautiously.

"See I was involved in this project, err... Your project, actually. Do you perhaps recognize the name Kurchev? Doctor Kurchev?" You inquire.

She blinks once.

"Database confirms project lead Doctor Ivor Kurchev. Database search brings up code command. Confirming Vadik Domnin as secondary command in absence of primary user." Her left arm falls to pointing back at the floor.

"Oh man, Kurchev, what have you gotten me into?" You grimace, rubbing your temples. Damn it doctor, you're a doctor, not a babysitter!

"Oh, the Rok is here." The little girl suddenly remarks, tilting her head to look up.

"The what?"

"You know, the Rok?" She frowns and flaps her arms in some sort of bizarre gesture.

"Not following."

"Ah well. You'll see soon enough. My primary objective is your continued safety so it's quite imperative we leave this island."

"I've got a boat?" You shake your head. You aren't sure where this conversation is going.

"Too slow." She shakes her head and at the same time, her gauntlet wraps itself around your torso, "Much faster to fly."

"Fly?" Is all you manage before dozens of jets emerge from those boots and pack she has on.

"Fly." She affirms, before the ceiling begins to open.

She couldn't possibly mean...

Suddenly, takeoff.

>>26082496

SCRANDAAAAAAAAAA OOOOOOOOOOOOON

With unprecedented and unbelievable force you rocket upward, still clutched in that rather imposing mechanical arm. The thrust to weight ratios required... The mere power needed for something like this... Your mind struggles to wrap around the mere physics, mostly because you're too busy screaming as you fly out of the building and up into the sky.

A dark sky.

The sun...

Blacked out by something far too massive to even be real. Immense, gargantuan, godly. There are no other words. A giant flying beast with wings that span wider than any plane you've ever witnessed. Skin of brilliant white, large domes of cameras that stare intensely toward you.

"The Rok." The little girl announces, as though this were nothing at all impressive.

It couldn't possibly be the same mythical creature you'd heard in the stories on Kurma, of a huge bird with wings that covered the sky and children that devoured men.

But as you gaze at it, gaining more and more altitude, you think that perhaps there might be some merit to the tall tales.

So wrapped up in it are you, that you don't even register as the rows and rows of turrets on the underbelly turn toward you.

"Beginning evasive maneuvers." The thing carrying you announces, all too chipper about it, before the boosters adorning her flare and you're propelled at ever greater speeds.

"Are we running?!" You manage to shout, unsure if you can even be heard through this level of wind noise.

"Currently I am only carrying a thirteen percent charge. It is not advisable to engage the Rok in combat at this time."

"I suppose I'll let you make that call, then." You watch as the turrets continue to attempt to track you, but can't seem to git a fix on the small, fast, erratic target.

"Please select a designation." She responds.

You think about your closest options.

[ ] Kurma - The giant floating structure you first ran to. Its low level of technology means it is mostly ignored by anyone and everyone.

[ ] New Detroit - An immense city now on the coast of the Atlantic ocean. It has become a bustling, self-governed hub of trade and technology, mostly owned by General Dynamics, one of the largest companies on earth.

[ ] Glitch City - A haven for the underground and less... Ethical companies. This city plays host to all manner of underground and is the epicenter of a booming drug trade.

[X]Glitch City or Bust.

Or lack thereof, as our mode of transportation exemplifies.

>>26082836
Whichever one has the most rust. I think that's New Detroit?

>>26082836
[x] Glitch City

seems the best bet

>>26082836
[X] New Detroit - An immense city now on the coast of the Atlantic ocean. It has become a bustling, self-governed hub of trade and technology, mostly owned by General Dynamics, one of the largest companies on earth.

Both of them are going to need to charge up their batteries.

>>26082836
[X] New Detroit - An immense city now on the coast of the Atlantic ocean. It has become a bustling, self-governed hub of trade and technology, mostly owned by General Dynamics, one of the largest companies on earth.

>>26082836
glitch city

>>26082836
Glitch.

Also, it's 8 in the morning here in Finland and I just woke up. How much longer can you go, you crazy man?

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Tie votes, my greatest foe

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>>26083068
Until the vodka runs dry.

Glitch city selected

>>26083119

Detroit.

>>26083319

Aww, fuck it. Glitch city it is!

"Do you know where Glitch city is?" You yell over the din, unable to even hear yourself, so loud are the boosters and the wind.

"Locking on to Glitch city coordinates, estimated flight time at current speeds given non-direct route to evade tracking, one hundred and fifty minutes, thirty four seconds." She responds,

Already you're leaving that thing she called the Rok behind in the distance. Much to your unreserved delight as you actually relax inside the powered fist gripping you. Though really, you know you have no cause for relaxation yet.

But Glitch city, for all its... Interesting characters... Will certainly give you time to lay low and assess your current situation. Which now that you even pause to think about, is frankly downright bizarre. For not too long ago, you were exploring a laboratory, and yet now, here you are. Clutched in a giant hand and flying to a city you've only read about on the net.

Within ten minutes there's no longer any visible sign of the giant machine that had been in pursuit, not even with your vision magnification ramped up to maximum.

The flight passes as quickly as it does quietly. It isn't much fun to yell to converse, and you honestly aren't sure where to even begin.

At least the weapon carrying you has the sense to not simply land directly in the city center, but rather outside, in some hills beyond. The jets flaring further to slow you to an admittedly smooth stop, all the way until your own two feet meet terra firma once again.

"That was... Interesting." You note as you attempt to pat down your black hair and attempt to fix your clothing.

Ah, clothing.

Something noticeably quite absent on your rather alien compatriot, aside from the meager cover from whatever sort of suit she's wearing.

"I'm already wanted for arrest, but I would much prefer I didn't get nabbed for an unrelated crime before even finding out why I'm accused of the first one. Is there any way we can get some clothes on you? Though that backpack seems in the way..."

At your words, the girl's suit darkens to a grey. You see now that it must cover more than simply what you'd seen, as the color change occurs all the way down from her neck to where her thighs enter the boots.

"Better?"

"Good enough."

>>26083471
We need to secure lodging, then interrogate her to find out her specs and limitations, as well as any hard-wired commands.

>>26083606
And a power supply for the both of us.

As you trudge along now, quite aware now at how slow a pace humans really do move, you can't but help steal glances to your right.

What she is, exactly, you are not sure. A weapon, an experiment gone wrong, or right? Is she even human?

At your further insistence you'd manage to convince her to retract her weapons back into the pack, though apparently not the boots, as she'd lacked any other footwear. At the very least now you won't be questioned as to what it is she's carrying, and how, as she isn't exactly what you would call large.

Even in the fading daylight, the cityscape of Glitch certainly makes itself known. You can already hear the blaring noise, of music and bustle and mankind. The lights flashing above belay the nature of this city.

This is not a place for upscale business, for men in suits. Glitch, or at least what you know about it, is a city unlike any other. A place where almost anything goes, where not even the great economic powers of the world can touch.

Because one simple, small thing keeps them all at bay.

Glitch city sits atop the greatest stockpile of leftover nuclear armament on the planet. Enough to firmly assert that any other may do well to think twice before attempting anything hasty. Though nuclear arms are certainly ages-old technology, their ability to cause wanton destruction has made itself quite known in the not too distant past. Now Glitch is mostly just ignored and pushed aside as "that city of the insane" by the more self-declared "civilized" places.

To be perfectly honest with yourself, however, you've always wanted to visit at least once.

After all, it's said that whatever happens in Glitch, stays in Glitch.

Except for viruses, because the last one that found itself in the market systems of Delhi had the global market on the verge of collapse.

As you approach the outer city, you see a stream of traffic flowing every which way. Roads and their signs are more guidelines here in Glitch, as you've heard numerous times.

It isn't hard and doesn't take long to flag down a cab, because it doesn't matter where in the world you are, denarii is denarii, and denarii is king.

The slew of rapid words that come out of the driver's mouth is unintelligible to you, but you simply say "A quiet hotel" which seems to be enough for the mohawk-adorned cabbie.

For as much as you know you need to talk and certainly have plenty to discuss, you know this isn't the time.

Also you're far too mesmerized by what you see outside to even think straight.

There are entire buildings coated in speakers. Buildings. Light of every color flashes from their windows as a heavy bass can be felt even through your seat. This level of noise apparently having no effect on inhabitants of the city, who are on the streets in the thousands.

In your world, body modification is rather taboo. Even cybernetic enhancements are made to be as discrete as possible. Here, though, those rules seem to have been tossed aside without hesitation.

Men and women are covered from head to toe in all manner of adornment. From visible computer hardware protruding from their skulls, to illuminated, glowing tattoos. Even stimulant packs attached right to arms, direct lines.

Even as the cab stops, you continue to gawk. Until the cabbie makes it quite known that he's ready to be paid and you should "gitdahellouttadiscabmahn."

You drop a few extra of the universal bills in his hand even as you exit the hatch.

Finally your gaze works its way up the giant pillars covered in flashing orange and purple neon to two massive illuminated red words, the letters of which also seem to be tanks holding dozens of sharks.

"Murder Inn." The little girl reads off for you.

"Well... Not exactly what I had in mind, maybe we should... Ah?" You're cut off as she begins to walk in all on her own.

>>26084192
quickly catch up, and tell her she needs to stay by our side, as she will be pretending to be our daughter for the time being.

>>26084287
That seems to cover it.

The inside is just as decorative and flavorful as the outside. Apparently "quiet hotel" translates to "the lobby has only one strip club" here. While this place is crowded, it's nothing compared to the bustle outside.

Either nobody notices the little girl watching a dancing sexbot on the stage, or nobody here cares.

"Alright that's enough gawking at that, I should think. If anyone asks, you're my daughter."

Pulling her along behind you, away from the stage, you approach the front desk and ask for a room.

The android working doesn't so much as pause before accepting your payment and handing you a keycard. Old school, surprisingly.

Just one short elevator ride later, and you find yourself sitting across the room from this little weapon that you know next to nothing about as she sits on the tall bed, kicking her legs, now sans-boots, which don't reach the floor.

You crack open the beer you'd found in the small fridge. This is probably going to be a long night.

>action/question/etc/other?

>>26084430
See if the bed goes pomf.

Ask her what she knows about the project that created her. What her purpose is/what her name is/where the off switch is, etc.

Ask if she wants a beer.

>>26084430
Ask her if she knows what we're gonna do on the bed.

>>26084430
"What's your preferred name?"
"Is any part of you human?"
"Why do you look like a little girl?"
"Any idea why I'm wanted dead despite not even knowing of your existence before I saw you?"
"Any idea who it is that wants me dead?"

>>26084430
We need food/energy for the both of us. Then more money because i'm sure what we have will go quick for some reason of another. But this can all be done after we ask her what's up.

Also does she have a name?

>>26084430
Ask about her capabilities, any mission guidelines, and if she knows where Dr. Kurchev is.

Also, plug ourselves in (if we need to recharge our cybernetics)

>>26084430
We've got a lot of questions. Ask what she is, what her purpose is, how she works, tell her about the part we played in making her, if she's the only part of project Vibrant or if there are others like her.

>>26084595

Ask her if she could stop talking like a damn britbong

"So I need to know some things as I'm sure you do as well. As is, I know next to nothing about you. You said I'm a registered user, correct?"

"Right." She nods.

"Great. Then let's get this started. You're part of project Vibrant, but are you the only part?"

"Unknown." She blinks.

Perfect...

"Alright, well... How about this, why do you look like a little girl?"

This seems to perk her interest a bit.

"Because I am a little girl! Project Vibrant was an expansion on existing cyborgs and a perfection of a plethora of systems that were integrated into the project."

"So you're human?" You take a swig of beer.

"As much as you are."

"Ah, so you can see I'm a cyborg, then?"

She merely nods.

"Still not understanding why a project of this magnitude wound up as a little girl... But I digress." You sigh and sit back into the relatively comfortable electric green chair, "Do you perhaps have any idea as to why I've been framed, who wants me dead, anything?"

The girl looks up from her attempt to gnaw on a coaster.

"I don't really know anything except what I was programmed with. I know my designation as Vibrant zero zero, I know that Doctor Kurchev is the project lead and you are one of the system developers."

"And a purpose? A mission, parameters, anything?" You press.

"I'm supposed to follow and take orders from designated users, you. And I don't think this is food." She dejectedly sets aside the coaster.

"Speaking of, what kind of charge do you need to get back to full?"

"Huh? Oh, power? To get my charge back to full, I require twenty four kilowatts." She says without so much as a stutter.

"I'm sorry, can you run that by me again? Did you say twenty four kilowatts?"

"Twenty four." She beams.

"Kilowatts...?"

She nods.

You can't help but shudder. That sort of power can light up a city.

>>26085115
*24 million kilowatts

I'm getting a bit tired, probably going to wrap this up in the next few posts.

>>26085115
How much charge are you at currently? How long can you keep going without charging on ordinary activity and strenuous activity?

>>26085166
she mentioned 13% earlier

>>26085115
>>26085166
After that, we need to find out where Glitch city draws their power from. (Probably a nuclear reactor somewhere, but need to check)

We also need to figure out some way to contact Kurchev, if he's still alive.

(And I think we should consider taking control of Glitch City, as it seems like having that sort of fire power at our beck and call will be the only way to stay alive, long term.)

>>26085330
That was before we went for a long flight. Seeing how much that took out of her will give us a good idea of how much she gets out of what percentage.

"Damn where do you even get that sort of... And what percent of charge are you holding currently?" You inquire.

"12.95 percent!" She exclaims, appearing proud of this fact.

"Alright let's switch gears here for a moment. I know that you don't know about any current events, but might you know anything about Kurchev? I don't even know if he's alive or dead."

The little girl blinks several times.

"There is currently no information on the global net as to his whereabouts at this time."

"And you don't know anything?"

"I never said that!" She laughs, kicking her feet again, "I know that mister WD is currently broadcasting a wide-range signal that I should kill you and bring you his head."

You swallow hard.

"But he isn't a registered user so I don't have to listen." She giggles, as though this should alleviate any worries.

Wait a second. You raise your head from resting on your fingertips.

"Did you say *mister* WD, as in, a person?"

"Well sure! Mister WD, the man who acquired Roust, the company you worked for!"

>additional questions before I call it a night?

>>26085511
Does she have a current location for WD?
And would she be able to get there and kill him? (Let's cut the head off this snake)

>>26085511
"Any idea why I'm getting targeted by him?

Do you know where Mister WD is? Is he well defended?"

"And this WD, do you know where he might be?"

"Weeelll... The signal is originating from Kingdom city, so I imagine he's probably there?" She shrugs.

Kingdom city?

Certainly a massive center of industry on the southern coast, but not any sort of place you'd expected this trail to lead. As far as you know, that city isn't run by any one particular company, either.

"Any idea why my life is in danger? Why anyone would want to come after me?"

"If I had to guess, probably to wrap up any loose ends?" She shrugs, "Its obviously related to your work but even I don't know how."

"So if we find him, can you kill him?"

"If that's a user order, sure!" She smiles.

With a deep sigh you sink deeper into the chair, closing your eyes. This has been far too much to take in, in much too small a timeframe.

"One last question."

"What?"

You peel one eye open to look at her.

"What the hell do I even call you? Project Vibrant is obviously too long."

"Vibe?" She offers.

"Absolutely rejected."

[ ] Accept Vibrant as name

[ ] Give her a nickname
>what?

[ ] Other?

>>26085511
>that I should kill you and bring you his head."

I think she needs to get her programming double checked.

>>26085860
[X] Give her a nickname

Sparky

>>26085860
your nickname until further notice is Bert

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>>26085892
I knew I was going to get sloppy eventually, it was merely a matter of time.

>>26085860

Bisha-moe-tan
or Bisha-tan for short.

>>26085938
I like bert. next we must aquire an ernie

>>26085860
[X] Give her a nickname
I second Sparky

>>26085860

[X] Other
Ask her what her name was before Project Vibrant

Alright I think I'm going to wrap this up for the night, seems like as good a time as any as I'm out of vodka and cigarettes.

I'm not sure when the next installment will be. After the weekend since I work twelve hour shifts fri/sat/sun/mon and won't have much free time to do much of anything.

I'll take all of these
>>26086045
>>26086020
>>26085970
>>26085947
>>26085938
>>26085927
into account at the start of the next thread.

Anything else I'm forgetting before I head off for the night?

>>26086059
gud thread
gud quest

>>26086059

I missed you Papa! I didn't think this was real.

>>26086059
Thanks xD

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>>26086080
>>26086097
>>26086097
>>26086107
Thanks for the support. It feels good to be back, especially since for a good long while I didn't see it happening myself.

At the current pace I see this quest likely wrapping up in 5 or less threads, which works as it's more or less just a fun little side-project to get myself writing again.

If nothing else, this too-long of a hiatus has left me with a lot of time to figure out where I want to take Last/Kiara and Eight in their respective stories.

But anyways, I'll post any update and the next expected thread time on the twitter.

>>26086164

I hope so. I missed the tension between the goat whisper and totally not ararararararararagari

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>>26086164
>that image

Moot please get your shit in order. I'm not sure I have that image.

>>26085860
>[ ] Give her a nickname
Rant.

>>26086059
Yeah, there is one thing.

Thank you for coming back