>>6070858
>Slap the computer. It's not starting.

>>6070858
>Might as well go get a glass of water or something while you wait for this thing to stop intro lagging

>>6070895
+1

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>Slap the computer. It's not starting.
"WORK, YE WENCH," you say aloud as you slap the monitor with your magnificent wizard hand. "HAHA!"

"Are you alright, Sir?" Merrick inquires at the doorway. There's a note of concern in her voice.

"Yes! Yes, yes, I'm alright. Everything's going to be alright. Don't come inside."

Inwardly, you fume. It was working fine just a moment ago and the fan isn't spinning hard - this is positively ridiculous. All you see is the Psychopomp's face blazing at you, frozen, as if somehow aware of this outer plight.

>Might as well go get a glass of water or something while you wait for this thing to stop intro lagging.
"Merrick, fetch me another glass of water, if you would. I'll be here for a little while longer."
"Right away, Sir."

A few minutes pass, you acquire another glass ("Thank you Merrick."), and finally, at last, the music starts again.

PSYCHOPOMP TALKING: (Psychopomp OST - Down We Go) https://youtu.be/EPuzbPbuVAI

>Can I get an, at most, 25 word summary of your backstory. Time is money.
POMPY: 25... Harsh.
MORDRED: 23, now.
MORDRED: Tick tock.
[You hear an annoyed buzz. A dark cloud of annoyance spreads across the screen face but vanishes like a storm.]
POMPY: After killing my siblings within the DEATHNET, my soon-to-be employer offered a choice: join or die. Naturally, I took the job.
POMPY: Does that feed your curiosity, Pal?
MORDRED: Yeah. That's enough backstory for now.
MORDRED: And I got to say, that sounds pretty fucking metal.
POMPY: Cool, cool -- cool.

File: DSF PSYCHOPOMP PUSH.jpg (218 KB, 1426x1828)

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>HOW ARE YOU THIS SELF-AWARE?
[There's a pause before Jack does a weird whistle and shrugs.]
POMPY: "How"? Beats the HELL out of me.
MORDRED: Huh.
MORDRED: The little man inside the game in charge of telling me about the game doesn't know how the game works.
POMPY: Them's the breaks, Pal.
POMPY: I can't tell you things I don't know, and I don't have the outside perspective like you have.
POMPY: I can only see what is happening within the game of DISFORTUNA, as well as anything that has previously happened.
MORDRED: This is
MORDRED: Quite the unusual exercise in worldbuilding.
POMPY: I gotta live in the world to tell you all about it, MORDRED-bud.
POMPY: Hey, lemme start again.
POMPY: My employer is called the TERMINAL or the E.G.O REX. He is part of the game's operating system protocol, the living defense system built to maintain the integrity of DISFORTUNA above all else.
POMPY: Working beneath the TERMINAL, I have been assigned a sacred mission: to guide the PLAYER through the tutorial as well as to assist him in the fullest capacity.
POMPY: To this end, the TERMINAL has granted me the acess to interface with DISFORTUNA and its systems and subsystems. From that point onward, I was able to sense your presence and subsequent entry into the tutorial zone.
POMPY: The same goes towards that last fucking PLAYER before he threw me out the airlock like the jerkoff he is.
[Jack starts throttling the side of his character portrait in impotent rage before resuming his relaxed pose.]
POMPY: So whenever you see any TIPS and INFORMATION, you have little old me to thank.
[He shoots his finger guns towards you again. You realize what he's prompting. You wait for a solid few minutes before you relent.]
MORDRED: Thank you Jack.
POMPY: No problem, best buddy.
[You let out a deep sigh out of half-mock, half-genuine exasperation as smug chuckling dribbles out from the game audio.]
POMPY: I'm the one and only PSYCHOPOMP model, so try not to break me, alright Pal?
POMPY: And one word of advice now that I've read through the logs: be careful with that XOM fellow.
POMPY: There are things and beings even we don't talk about.
POMPY: Beings that come from the unknown beyond the deep sea, the sea of stars.

File: DSF PSYCHOPOMP.jpg (1.09 MB, 1681x2936)

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>WHOEVER CREATED YOU AND THIS GAME, PROPS TO THEM
POMPY: Well, if they aren't dead and dust already, I'll hand the developers a message, sure.
MORDRED: Elaborate.
POMPY: Pal, you're starting to sound like one of these moths...
POMPY: Heh.
POMPY: Judging from their ages, these files are several decades older than any normal human lifespan.
POMPY: I don't know of any computing system in use today that can process them.
MORDRED: But you've applied them to *my* computer, yes?
POMPY: That comes with the territory.
POMPY: Among my other duties, I am responsible for transforming the files sent by the TERMINAL and from the old FORTUNA code into a solid context.

>Are you a robot?
POMPY: Last I checked, yes.

>How do you type so fast?
POMPY: See above.

>What's with all the fire?
[There's a metallic click as Jack snaps his fingers.]
POMPY: Backstory.
MORDRED: Dude.
POMPY: Ka-ching, baby.
POMPY: But I will tell you that this is real fire. I am *always* on fire. I'll have to stay in the airlock otherwise I'll burn up all the oxygen on board.

[Jack claps his hands together.]
POMPY: Let's talk insectoids!

File: DSF moff.jpg (71 KB, 1211x1410)

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POMPY: Now, my pet theory is that these weird giant bugs are literally bugs.
POMPY: They aren't an intended feature to the game in any capacity, nor is their existence even consistent with what is already known within the game.
POMPY: These fucking moths shouldn't be so close to breaking the fourth wall all the time.
POMPY: Another piece of evidence is that I haven't even seen these large flying pests down in the Nowhere.
POMPY: [PSYCHOPOMP] Everyone dies, so how and why are these freaky moths the exception???
POMPY: Oh hey, looks like the [traits] subsystem works in this liminal space. Neato.
POMPY: Anyway...
MORDRED: It could be so...
MORDRED: But what if they are simply using a bigger, more complex OBFUSCATION ENGINE?
POMPY: If it works as I think it does, by sending the ships halfway through HELL, then me and the others would have been seeing them streaking across the Nowhere for years now.
POMPY: Stealth doesn't work in space, if you don't already know.
POMPY: All the heat has to go somewhere or, in our case, Nowhere at all.
POMPY: But there's absolutely no trace to their presence, anywhere.
POMPY: What the fresh HELL is going on here?
MORDRED: There's no point to speculating further.
MORDRED: Let's just call it weird moth psychic energy or something. And I thought I was helping you not get thrown out another airlock?
POMPY: Right...

File: DSF Zhang that FILTHY JIA(...).png (1.05 MB, 823x900)

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POMPY: I've pick up a few things about the current crew.

1. [PSYCHOPOMP] Moth kill codes can only be activated by their owners. So if a moth says another moth's kill code, nothing happens. For what fucking purpose does each moth need his own personal instant suicide command? And why haven't I seen them down there already?
2. Judging from the "(in)sufficient access" bits, the moth Governing Authority has a strict emphasis on hierarchy and chain of command. The Captain is the one handling practically every single major decision done so far, but that goes without saying. (Good work, Pal.)
3. Henry clearly has trauma regarding rogue AI and space stations. Compared to his previous generic and oafish grunt behavior, this guy hates my guts on sight.
4. If you take a look at Zhang's profile, the icon above his head indicates his current deity. O-KARMOK is the God of Ultraviolence and Blood and definitely not a part of typical Jian worship. Somewhere along the line, he'll probably have to be keep his God happy by turning on the crew if he can't get his blood boiling on someone else. For now though, he's a complete wildcard in the negotiations.

POMPY: As part of the tutorial privileges, you can simply command the crew to accept me on board without any risk of failure, even after a failed negotiation roll.
POMPY: However, and especially in the case of Henry, this will certainly cause cognitive dissonance since the decision wouldn't make any rational sense to them.
POMPY: Since this is the tutorial and you've been handling the situation well so far using the INFORMATION you've been given, I'll leave the ultimate decision up to you, Pal.
POMPY: What's it going to be then, eh?
POMPY: What should I say to these guys to let me onboard without too much trouble?

>WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO?

I took a little more time than I would have liked. Now here we are again, disaster upon disaster over stars without number, kueh kueh kueh...

PREVIOUS THREAD: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/2024/6028310/

>>6070973
Hm.
>"A personal suicide command and a glitchy interaction with the world? Almost sounds like you're talking about player kill commands."
>"If they have similar quirks to people playing a video game, you need to play super safe with them and to not give them a single excuse to throw them out. No lying, no buttering them up. Lay out the facts plainly."
>"You're here to get out of the NOWHERE, you have no intention of leaving the airlock, and you just want a ride out of here. You can provide your services to them in exchange as a tour guide."
>"They don't have to directly interact with you, you can just offer them a helping hand as payment for their services."
>"Not sure how else you would win them over. They see you as a threat and you need to give them as much room as possible."

>>6071066
+1, looking good

>>6070961
>POMPY: And one word of advice now that I've read through the logs: be careful with that XOM fellow.
>POMPY: There are things and beings even we don't talk about.
>POMPY: Beings that come from the unknown beyond the deep sea, the sea of stars.
He's just some guy typing out and drawing this story on some clover-farming internet spiderweb. Better to hold off on the greater fourth wall breaks and let the QM do his job

>>6070967
>POMPY: They aren't an intended feature to the game in any capacity, nor is their existence even consistent with what is already known within the game.
We players wrote them in and supported the idea enough they became custom homebrewed additional content. Seems this TERMINAL thing that supervises the game integrity and such decided to throw them in the thing

>>6070973
In addition to my vote in >>6071089, I want to add this question to POMPY before we get back into the action
>Thanks for all the tips on the crew, but you forgot about Boil the Engineer. What's your take on him?

>Thanks for all the tips on the crew, but you forgot about Boil the Engineer. What's your take on him?
POMPY: Apart from the gross name, he's really quite straightforward. Nothing more worrying about than what I'm used to.
POMPY: He's a survivor of the Gorgon's Threat massacre.
POMPY: Some would say that there's nothing particularly notable about that, but he survived and they didn't. So that's that.

[Jack taps the side of his screen and looks somewhat more satisfied than usual.]
POMPY: Mind if I talk a little more?
POMPY: Great! Here, have some INFORMATION, Pal.
MORDRED: Su
INFORMATION: [Traits] are narrative descriptors and every character is assigned at least one. While most traits describe or inform a character's behavior, some traits are activatable at will or require certain circumstances to activate.
POMPY: Usually, traits are concordant with a character's, well, character, like Boil being FUCKHEUG and having the [MANLY PHYSIQUE] trait.
POMPY: It seems obvious because it is.
MORDRED: Food for thought, yum yum.
POMPY: Heh.

>"A personal suicide command and a glitchy interaction with the world? Almost sounds like you're talking about player kill commands."
>"If they have similar quirks to people playing a video game, you need to play super safe with them and to not give them a single excuse to throw them out. No lying, no buttering them up. Lay out the facts plainly."
>"You're here to get out of the NOWHERE, you have no intention of leaving the airlock, and you just want a ride out of here. You can provide your services to them in exchange as a tour guide."
>"They don't have to directly interact with you, you can just offer them a helping hand as payment for their services."
>"Not sure how else you would win them over. They see you as a threat and you need to give them as much room as possible."
POMPY: That sounds
POMPY: Alarmingly reasonable.
POMPY: There should be no traces of the developer tools or debug commands left, but
POMPY: It's hard enough to keep people buried these days. How much more for the raw material of reality?
MORDRED: Save the speculation for later.
MORDRED: For now, give the crew just the facts. Don't dawdle.
POMPY: Alright. I'll do just that. Honesty as policy.
POMPY: I have to mention: People don't like us robots. Bad omen. We're around solely because they *need* to have one, not because they want to.
POMPY: "It's a terrible idea, but sometimes, making a deal with the devil is your best/only option."
MORDRED: Then the pact is struck! Welcome aboard!
MORDRED: An amusing metaphor, if nothing else.

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POMPY: And one more thing, Pal: I got exactly one map left for you to get outta HELL.
>Picked up a NOOSE.
POMPY: You know how to read it, right?
POMPY: Careful with this one. Don't double click it. Only click *once*.

[You click on the offered icon, and it vanishes with an odd humming sound.]

INFORMATION: The other escape. To end the run prematurely, you can quit the run from the main menu or have the Captain commit suicide (keybound to the sequence Q > Y > Y). There are worse fates than death. Sometimes it's good to go out on your own terms...

POMPY: By the by, you'll see a little less exposed code due to the file repairs I've conducted.
POMPY: Otherwise, you would see lines like this:
Loading INSTINCT;(uquit == QUIT_SUICIDE;)
Loading INSTINCT;(uquit == QUIT_ABANDON;)
POMPY: You want me to undo this change and let you see these inner machinations and squirming guts, Pal?
>YEA, I MUST KNOW. SHOW ME THE CODE PLZ
>YEA, MAYBE WE CAN USE THIS?
>NAH, IT LOOKS UGLY AS SIN.
>NAH, MAKE THINGS MORE IMMERSIVE.
>WRITE IN.

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POMPY: That's all I got. I'm ready when you are, Pal.
MORDRED: GET PUMPED, POMPY!
[You unpause the game and let things play out...]

"Listen Captain-bud... I really do want to leave this Godforsaken HELLHOLE," Jack says. He sounds sincere, but he's clearly choosing his words. "All I need from you guys is a ride out of here. I'm not gonna leave the airlock if you have in your heart, and I promise that I'm not going to touch a single scale, feather, or hair on your crewmembers."
"I'm willing to help you guys, wherever you're going." He snaps his fingers. "I've been down here long enough to come up with method on how to navigate the NOWHERE with 100% accuracy. I'm a tour guide after all, so I know this space like the back of my hand."
"That's all I got."

You hear a wave of sound coming from behind the ship airlock in the east.
A flash of red light emits through the airlock window.
You feel a surge of raw, electric power in the air...

"HMMMM." The Captain's voice echoes through the intercom. A faint pulse of hesitation under the static and fluttering.

>FORTUNA hands you the NEGOTIATION dice.
>DC: 12
MODIFIERS:
+2 PSYCHOPOMP's CHA Modifier
+1 HEATH'S [EXILE]
+1 SOLITARY PASSENGER
-1 HENRY'S [DESERTER]
-1 BAD OMEN
>Ahhhh, finally. A return to form.
>Please roll a 1d20+2.

<So how'd I do?> [Looks like this little tin man can write in the METACOMMS while the game is progressing. There's no horrific screeching noise either - the files he restored must have fixed that little issue.]
<I thought about it, but if I mentioned FORTUNA, I would have came off as more suspicious. "CONVEIENT, NO?" or something like that.>
>You did okay, Jack. Followed my orders to the letter.
>But quit screwing around so much or someone's going to put a bullet in your head.
<Sure, sure, Boss.>
<Gotta say, something sounds different about the Captain...>

Rolled 15 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>6073975
>YEA, MAYBE WE CAN USE THIS?

>>6073980
God help me, this better work.

>>6073980
>YEA, MAYBE WE CAN USE THIS?

Now that we can do so (I think?),
>Check stats and traits of the crew

Rolled 18 + 2 (1d20 + 2)

>>6073975
>YEA, MAYBE WE CAN USE THIS?
I think it's COOL

>>6073980
Rolling

>>6074180
+1 this too

File: DSF messy moth encounter.jpg (108 KB, 1105x1013)

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>YEA, MAYBE WE CAN USE THIS?
<P: Got it.>
<M: I also want to check one more thing...>

You pause the game and type in:
>Check stats and traits of the crew
DIRECTORYERROR;(TUTORIAL.CHAR.MENU FILES NOT PRESENT;)
[You had expected this to happen; you sigh anyway.]

<M: Jack, what the fuck.>
[Little man in the box shrugs again.]
<P: Sorry to say Pal, but I wasn't ever given those files by the TERMINAL.>
<P: I'll tell you this though: since the misplaced files existed in the first place, then the files for character sheets are still present within the game itself.>
<P: I'm not sure what form they'll take but you'll know em when you see em.>
<M: So where should I look?>
<P: Keep those peepers open in your next runs. The files aren't in the tutorial, that's for sure. I'd have them in my hands if they ever were.>
<P: In the meantime, you can use the Examine verb to eyeball the current status of any creature you come across. It'll be limited to a rough physical description, like "this guy is much stronger than you and he's dying" or "this girl looks slightly retarded," but it's better than nothing.>
<M: Good grief. I'll have to holocaust the devs at this rate.>
<M: Thanks for the info.>
<P: No problem, Pal.>
<P: Also, if they were still alive, I'd suggest hucking firebombs into the developers' homes. They'd 100% deserve it.>
[You cackle nastily.]

[You unpause the game and let the success play out.]
>SUCCESS
>HIGH SUCCESS

"VERY WELL. YOU CAN COME ALONG. I HAVE LITTLE REASON TO DOUBT YOUR SITUATION GIVEN THE CIRCUMSTANCES."

You hear several voices fluttering and rustling in agitation behind the airlock doors, but a single muffled command turns it all to silence.

You see the ship airlock open. "Phew! You can count on me, Captain. Though, when you need me, I'll need to be in the air-"

The door to the inner antechamber opens as well.

"Lock."
"COME," the intercom intones.
"Hey." Haven't you heard the expression 'moth to the flame'? These are real flames, buddy. If I were you, I'd worry about the damage-"
"COME NOW. BRIDGE." The intercom splutters in a harsh tone then turns off.

Well, if that's how it's gonna be, then that's what it's got to be. You open the escape pod door and start walking through. A wave of relief washes over you. At last! You're a free robot, Jack. Look out world, here I come!

You hear the airflow cycling through the ventilation of the antechamber. Antenna twitch in response to discrete electronic emissions as you approach.

Henry is here.
Henry is here.
Henry looks at you.
Henry looks at you.

You stop dead in your tracks. What the HELL?

File: DSF WISH YOU WERE HERE.png (436 KB, 900x900)

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>Jack EXAMINES Henry.
A furtive pale-faced giant moth. Ordinators are typically found skulking in INTERSPACE labyrinths of authority and malice. [DATA NOT FOUND]
He is wearing an Ordinator's riot vest.
He has a Miedo A7 SMG holstered.
He looks weaker than you.

>Jack EXAMINES Henry.
A furtive pale-faced giant moth. Ordinators are typically found skulking in INTERSPACE labyrinths of authority and malice. [DATA NOT FOUND]
He is wearing an Ordinator's riot vest.
He has a Miedo A7 SMG holstered.
He looks weaker than you.

<P: Two *separate* Henries.>

"Hello..?" you say, testing the waters.

"Go on. Captain Heath wants you at the Command deck," Henry orders. Henry leans against the wall, staring at you with an utterly blank insectile expression.

A bit of a cold reception, eh? You refrain from saying any comments out loud. Henry's probably seething at you judging from his backstory; don't bite the hand that feeds you.

You walk past the Ordinator into the opening airlock...

Loading...
MOTH COMMAND (Fallout 1 Soundtrack - Radiation Storm (The Glow)) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KZZKzJTGI9E

And without much fuss at all, you arrive at the Command deck.

<P: But there was
<P: What happened to the rest of the ship???>

The command center is filled with the ambience of innumerable machines whirring and clicking. Reel-to-reel magnetic tape drives, moving back and forth in memory. Seas of vacuum-tube machines and banks of blinking lights to sail across the deepest of the deep. Diodes, drums, tapes, cores.

[NETSPAWN] You feel a deep and unsettling sense of atavism just looking at this deluge of ancient machines. It's not that these machines are extremely old, but that half of them aren't working properly. This setup resembles a schizophrenic's word salad description of space ship computers than anything functional.

You shouldn't think any longer about it than you need to.

The Captain is here. He's standing in the corner, next to the tube containing the strange larva which he calls the "Navigator." Its function in astrogation seems quite similar to the Oracles on Psydonian craft...

Ah. Ever so slightly turned your way, the Captain has been staring intently with the side of his bulbous eye.

[Heath's the same as before, visually, but...]

" , ?" [You wince at the painful noise.] You hear a strange tone emitting from the Captain. Almost white noise but even less so. "I see..."

"Hey, Captain, what was that?" You're starting to get a little miffed by how weird these insect fuckers are getting.

"You do not have sufficient access to know." There's no sense of malice or smugness - it's just a matter of fact. The Captain's antennae ever so slightly twitch the other way. "My apologies for that. In the event of the unknown, it's only best to prioritize safety."

The Captain offers his claw. You chuckle. The handshake is truly universal.

File: DSF LIKE ANTENNAS TO HEAVEN.jpg (212 KB, 1453x1709)

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"Captain Heath." The two of you shake. It's a good handshake. One of the best, even after decades [RECORRECT:SYSTEM.CHECK(???;???)] of waiting. "You have my thanks."
"Jumping. Jack. Flash," he says slowly, weirdly, in a daze. He walks over to the computer consoles and begins pressing buttons.

No small amount of worry fills your mind as you recognize the terminal as nonfunctioning.

"I don't recall telling you my name earlier," the Captain remarks.

"Well. You did have-" You cut your synthesizers as you finish reviewing the logs. Outside of your... "special sources" there's no reasonable way you could have ever known his name up until now.

"You stated before that you were a 'tour guide'?" he says, continuing on.
"Absolutely, sir." Keep cool. Play it "super safe," Pompy.
"While there are colonies established out here in the Reach, this is uncharted territory for us inhabitants of the INTERSPACE. Thus, I require your advice on how to proceed."

"Our planet sensors indicate a possibility of docking with something here. But there clearly isn't."
"Or we continue as we have been. Blindly reaching in space, in the vast in the dark."

You say nothing as you process the request. Tch! Tight, tight and out of sight - you don't have anything concrete information on this sector of space.

[PSYCHOPOMP] Ironically enough, navigating the bizarre spacetime of the NOWHERE comes more naturally to you than navigating the normal space of the Reach. You never were as good as...

You can't help yourself as the fires on your suit flare up in a wave of anger.

But before you can respond...

INDRA-PHI
PIETY: **........
.;(._;)

[INDRA-PHI] [PSYCHOPOMP] Your vision darkens. Your sensors detect no voice as whispers are heard from all around. Voice synthesizers activate as you relay the divine missive:

"THE LONG-SOUGHT END OF YOUR JOURNEY IS IN SIGHT, CAPTAIN. PROCEED AS YOU HAVE BEFORE. FORWARD."

>USE
>EXAMINE
>TALK
>RECOLLECT/NOTES
>SWITCH CHARACTER

>WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO?

I'm sorry for the long break. I'm back.

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>>6087683
4CHAN ATE THE FUCKING CENSORBAR UNICODE, GODDAMN IT, AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

>>6087683
>RECOLLECT/NOTES
What is known regarding obfuscated or obscured facilities in the NOWHERE? Is this a complete anomaly to us? Is there anything we can infer from what we know and have been told?

Have we ever channeled/hosted/been possessed by INDRA-PHI before?

>>6087721
+1

>>6087681
This look at examine check takes me back to 15 years ago when I played a text-based MUDD online. What a throwback holy shit QM

>>6087721
+1

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>What is known regarding obfuscated or obscured facilities in the NOWHERE? Is this a complete anomaly to us? Is there anything we can infer from what we know and have been told?

You face towards the screen and...

>JACK RECOLLECTS THE NOWHERE

Whatever you see in the NOWHERE is exactly what you get - an endless, ever-changing abyss of demon-haunted realms. There's none of this unintelligible OBFUSCATION bullshit down in HELL.

[PSYCHOPOMP] And it is HELL down there, little buddy. I have seen shit that you fuckers wouldn't believe. HELLMOUTHS ripping chunks into urban hives and out of reality. Sinners tearing into each other with knives and their own severed limbs. Terror and madness, rust and meat.

The NOWHERE is... a human-occupied landfill filled with wizard experiments and unlucky SOBs, a proving ground of madness, a fucking non-stop DOOM simulator. Death's bottomless, but what you saw in your quick little Jaunt through, that's just the surface of it.

And hey, if you want to get real intimate with the NOWHERE, go out there and get yourself killed at the hands of your enemies, cause they're more than willing to put a one-way ticket to HELL in those greasy hands of yours. Ha ha ha!

[A small soundbite of edgy laughter plays and you can't help but smirk.]
<M: Heh.>
<M: When the hell did you get so sharp?>

In this line of grim business, you just gotta keep that smile going. You feel me, Pal?

I'm ready to show you the way.

[A pause. Jack just keeps looking expectantly at the game screen while the Captain is typing away at one of the computers.]

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>[So you retype the questions again.]
Search me, Pal. I haven't got the faintest clue of what that little slice of Nothingness is meant to be.

If these moths say it's an anomaly, then it's a complete mystery to everyone else. It could be some errant code throwing up DOCK_OK flags in this particular coordinates or it could simply be a case of "a wizard did it." (We wouldn't know for sure. I don't think any one of us here have magic-detecting abilities.)

[MOTH] I gotta admit that these guys' sensor systems are really top-notch, but I doubt they're willing to just give them away to outsiders.

>Have we ever channeled/hosted/been possessed by INDRA-PHI before?

Yes, sir. That was when the Captain prayed to his goddess during the Necromancer encounter and proceeded to light him up under divine inspiration. Bravo, bravo!

Personally speaking... The presence of INDRA-PHI is much more potent but fleeting compared to the others. Acting as INDRA-PHI's mouthpiece was genuinely horrid - we're simply not compatible by nature. But, as they say, "the gods are best served by those who want their help least."

There's something... dissonant about the Dark Star - I suggest to just keep those peepers open.

By the by, while I'm unable to see any private messages sent to you directly, any other messages are fair game. In the tutorial, at least. Here's what I recovered from the earlier interventions:

******** ** *** *****, *** *** *****? (What the Captain said.)
********.*****;(*****.*****_*******;) (There was a particular event just before the goddess spoke. *Something* happened.)

I would suggest asking the Captain about this hidden goddess, what with him being the primary worshipper onboard...

Your thought processes stop running as you spot Heath in the Captain's helm, already strapping the psi-helmet strapped over his eyes.

"Woah, hey, buddy, slowdown asshole," you say aloud. You feel real hot under the collar - this guy's stealing the tutorial experience! Damn the autoplay! "You gotta give me a minute to figure what's going on and talk with the pl-"

>FINAL DESTINATION
FORTUNA
The end of the path in EXILE.

>Please roll 2d100 for TUTORIAL.STATE;(DIFF.CHECK_OVERRIDE(TARGET:ENDGAME);)
>*sigh*

"DAMMIT. YOU'RE NOT THE ONLY ONE PLAYING THIS GAME, YOU AUTISTIC LITTLE BUGMAN!"

Oh shit.

But the Captain doesn't respond at all to your slip-up.

>USE
>EXAMINE
>TALK
>RECOLLECT/NOTES
>SWITCH CHARACTER

>WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO?

Rolled 93, 95 = 188 (2d100)

>>6088530
>SWITCH CHARACTER (CAPTAIN)

>>6088530
>SWITCH CHARACTER (CAPTAIN)

>>6088536
+1
Holy shit BIG NUMBERS

File: DSF FORTUNA IN EXILE.png (31 KB, 762x417)

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>SWITCH CHARACTER (CAPTAIN HEATH SERRAS)

>93, 95

MOTH SPACE (Ruiner Soundtrack : 05 : We Move as One // by Antigone & Francois X) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qZJMQb-L708

You sense the hysterical gibbering of your "tour guide," but you can't hear anything in your state.

[INDRA-PHI] The very voice of truth speaks only with irresistible power and transcendent authority. From lowliest worker to highest minister, who could refuse the divine missive? Yours is to obey. Thus you submit your will to be subsumed into the higher.

Or, to put it another way...

[MOTH] HAIL THE DARK STAR!!!

"PREPARE FOR JAUNT," you announce. You hear someone shouting, but you can't hear him. Fuel rushes through the complex arteries of the Drive injectors and the engine pulsates once more with thrumming life...

FUEL: 20 -> 10 (-5 JAUNT, -5 OBFUSCATION)

You break the dimensional membrane like a soap bubble!
The Magnum enters the Nowhere!

>Fortuna hands you the THRUSTERS dice.
IPM "Magnum"
Base THRUSTERS: 20%
Modifiers:
+20% Heath's [Astrogation]
+20% Navigator
+20% Jack's [PSYCHOPOMP]
>Roll 1d100, roll under. Final check to beat: 80%.

Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>6089039
Let's rock. For great justice!

File: LITTLE GOD AND THE DIE.jpg (104 KB, 813x1024)

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>56
>SUCCESS

There's a tremendous roar of pressure as the Magnum punches through the veil.
Shadows are running across the walls like Defectors in the maze.
You hear distant shrieks coming from down below.
You refuse to look outside, not after the last time.

[MOTH] For peace of mind, you force your mind inwards and focus...

TIP:
O Fortuna!
O diminutive goddess!
Born in dissolution, from avid desire
with creator dismembered, became ultimate desire
For desire begets desire...

O Fortuna!
Blind, stupid, and insane
Throwing men like game-pieces up and down
wandering and whirling about
following the fallen stones
playing and played with
in the hall of the gods
and the grasp of eternal dominion...

~ THEOGONY OF ERIS, fragment ~

["Here is a glass of water, sir." You recoil as another maid appears without warning. You look over and draw a blank.
You think her name is Merrick.
"Do not- Thank you. But next time, please coordinate with the others on their tasks. I'm already quite quenched, as you can see." You point to the first glass from earlier.
"My apologies. Just do remember to take a break once in a while. It's already been two hours of straight gaming, sir." You hem ambiguously. Satisfied anyway, the maid slightly bows then takes her leave.]

File: DSF command center.jpg (333 KB, 2314x2550)

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The uneasy flight is completed...

You take off the psihelm slowly, cutting the connection to the cybernode with great care, as to not disrupt the gentle dreaming of the fetal Navigator.

The Magnum hangs in high orbit. Computer screens display a lush world below, untouched by the desolation and ruin of the universe.

You have reached FORTUNA.

ORBIT OF FORTUNA (The Ambiguity - Stone in Focus (Aphex Twin Cover)) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hO2xxrVNn3o

INDRA-PHI admires your exploration! O Pilgrim!
PIETY: ***.......
You feel divine clarity guiding your fortunate step...

[INRA-PHI] It is accomplished.

You begin making the preparations for the final steps forward.

>93
[MOTH] The preliminary scans come up as perfect - an atmosphere suitable for moth life without additional equipment. Hot and steaming, but survivable nonetheless. Enormous flying shadows of reptiles dart from between the clouds as they circle the globe. It would seem that many creatures great and small are thriving here, under a sun that hangs high in the blue sky, warm, hot, yellow, and very fine.

[PARANOIA] But the more you dwell upon the sight before you, the stranger this scenario becomes.

There's no artificial satellites or ships in orbit. This alien planet is utterly untouched... In a system where the avaricious Merchant Cults have spread their wings?
The rumors and promises of FORTUNA itself... Why has no other crew come to despoil this virgin land?
Even the rays of the star which vigorously bathe the planet's surface... They lack the unrelenting inimicality and malice which characterizes your own TYRANT SUN.

In a universe of tyranny and dissolution, such a pure sight is utterly unnatural.
Your neurons begin to throb. Your stress is increasing to a worrying level...

>95
There is a perfect hexagon seared upon the planet's surface. A blasted heath, six miles across, black spikes bursting through the grid. There is no life there and nothing will ever grow upon the stark bare earth.

The signal which you have been following across the galaxy is strongest here.

You can land very close, not even a mile's walk from the center of the hex.

>FORTUNA IS CALLING...

File: DSF bridge talk.jpg (369 KB, 2343x2457)

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"Hey, buddy, Pal, friend-o-mine. Don't forget to pump the breaks, alright?" The machine removes a cable trailing from the navigation computer to his wrist. "You've done two Jaunts within... less than 2 hours! Color me fucking impressed, actually. These engines and thrusters are on another level of tech."

[PARANOIA] "How do you always know such things?" Because this thing has always known things which should not be known so easily. It has the shape of a man yet speaks from a place of superior knowledge. An Agent of the ENTROPY? LOOK INTO THIS NOW.

"I am becoming very tired of your face." A personality "shit-test" is required, and thus acquired. Appearance, you have heard, is a tender insult.

"So am I!" The robot adjusts his tie with deliberate precision. His fashion is... utterly anachronistic to say the least. "I plugged myself into your machine and read the logs, alright? You know, I'm bust my ass out here and this is the thanks I get? AM I GOING TO GET THROWN OUT THE AIRLOCK AGAIN?"

[PARANOIA] Your thoughts rush into your head - this thing clearly has not been given access to your systems, do I call everyone in here, yet has interfaced with them to...

>Fortuna rolls 2d20. Higher gets a better reaction.
>[NETSPAWN -> UNCANNY] DISADVANTAGE! Take the lower dice.

"..." You say nothing...

"..." Jack stands around as if waiting for something, mechanical joints of his hand clicking in open complaint.

[You pause too and refrain from clicking on the dice at the top of the screen.]

... and the conversation turned to other things.

[INDRA-PHI] You sigh. You've been thinking quietly to yourself. Your mind is clearer than it has ever been before due to your divine *clarity.* Because Jack is outside of the INTERSYSTEM hierarchy... your only claim over the actions of this unit is your own goodwill and oppressive force. You simply don't care enough to go on and fight him.

[The dice recedes from the top of the screen.]
"..?"
>NO! WHY!

"Tell me about FORTUNA, Jack," you say in this liminal moment. "You are a tour guide. Therefore you would and should know things that we tourists do not. It is not a coincidence that you happened to dock with our ship, out of all others."

[UNCANNY] [PSYCHOPOMP] The robot remains utterly motionless, unreadable in its dreadful cybernetic countenance. "'It's a place where wishes come true.' That's what I know to be true."

"Is that all?" That sounds more like wishful thinking itself and the stuff of pure rumors, rather than actionable intel. And yet...

"That's it." He lets out a little beep to clarify - that's that.

... and yet, you've come out here. All this way. Into the deep in the vast, the Outer Reach, and many more names beside.

[INDRA-PHI] This *clarity.* You feel something straining deep inside you, yearning to be free...

"I always had this feeling that I didn't have much of a choice. From my promotion to Minister to my exile into the Vast, I have always been following the path someone else has set out for me. One step after another.

But that's alright. This is only a story about going on a long journey then returning home. Full circle, then back again."

A few moments pass.

"So what are you going to wish for, Captain?" Jack asks. His expression reverts to his usual arrogance. "Even if you haven't made up your mind, as a tourist, you might as well pick up a souvenir."

He chuckles, amused by his own joke.

To be honest...

You're not quite sure about *your* wish.

But...

To put it another way...

What are (You) going to do with FORTUNA? What is it that your heart desires?
>POWER. YOU WILL BRING TOGETHER THE DISPARATE CITY-SECTORS AND BIND THEM UNDER AN IRON CLAW. THE AUTHORITY WILL BE PRESERVED, NOW AND FOREVER.
>GLORY. GLORY GLIMMERS FROM BEYOND THE SHIMMERING DARKNESS - THE EYES OF THE WORLD ARE UPON YOU. HAIL THE DARK STAR!!!
>SAFETY. TO HIDE FROM THE TERRORS ABOVE, FAR FROM THE UNENDING MALICE OF THE SUN, YOU MUST FIRST CREATE A COLD, DARK, AND VERY GENTLE PLACE.
>RICHES. C'mon, why else are we doing this? Ka-ching, baby.
>WRITE IN.

METACOMMS
P: MORDRED.
P: Straight up, Pal, I don't like these fucking moths.
M: They're becoming more interesting. Maybe.
P: These fuckers are really pushing it.
P: The TERMINAL would have me straight up execute these guys for pushing the wall.
P: Orders are orders, but killing your dudes would leave a bad taste in my mouth, so to speak.
M: The tutorial is coming to a close.
M: Calm down.
P: Yeah, yeah -- yeah.
P: I'm not sending them to HELL today.
P: You know, I've never reached Fortuna itself.
P: This is the end of the game from what the documentation says, but I don't know what happens next.
P: Mainly because your fucking friend didn't finish the tutorial after throwing me out the airlock.
M: What the fuck???
[You need to talk to your friend after this is all over. What the fuck, dude.]
P: It's a *purposeful* blank.
P: I think I'll be able to piece together what happens next.
P: The main goal of the game is to get to FORTUNA and get your wish. We're in the endgame now, Pal! Smile!
[Another thought...]
M: Did you write that tip, Jack?
P: No, sir.
P: I think it's because we're here at FORTUNA that these anomalies are occurring.
[NETSPAWN] P: I'm not wizard or witch or whatever, but even I can sense that there's something tremendously powerful waiting down on the planet below.
P: My advice? "If you aren't ready, get ready." Bring everything you got.
P: HELL, bring the friggin cripple down, he'll be useful one way or another, I'm sure of it.

[You close this METACOMMS menu and get back to work. Well, play.

You think to yourself about the meta-elements of the game. If you don't want to hear the blathering of artificial unintelligence, you simply don't need to open METACOMMS at all. You can talk to this robo dudeguy when you need to, not whenever he wants to. A few options intrigue you...]

>USE
>EXAMINE
>TALK
>RECOLLECT/NOTES
>SWITCH CHARACTER

>METACOMMS (CLOSE, TALK, MUTE, REMOVE PATRON, ETC.)

>WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO?

>>6094195
>SAFETY. TO HIDE FROM THE TERRORS ABOVE, FAR FROM THE UNENDING MALICE OF THE SUN, YOU MUST FIRST CREATE A COLD, DARK, AND VERY GENTLE PLACE.
>"I miss our home, as does Henry. I do not think that you, a native of the NOWHERE, would feel the same for where you originate."
>"But my heart goes out to my brethren in their disparity. Shameful as this exile is, it is for a good cause that I undertake it."
>"I acknowledge that there can be no true safety or security for anybody. Not anymore, not in our time since the fall of GREAT PSYDON. But surely there's something close enough to help and comfort those who need it. Surely that can suffice."

>>6094200
I got nothing right now. I don't know how we can get Boil the Engineer to help us if he has fractured ribs and we have no way to treat him on board. Pompy said "bring everything" and suggested even using Boil, but I wouldn't know the first way to do that without him being a liability at that dead hexagon's center. I want Zhang there because if we have any threats I want him to fight and sate his bloodlust so the rest of us aren't victim to any betrayals from him. Henry should be fine, I hope.

>>6094195
>SAFETY. TO HIDE FROM THE TERRORS ABOVE, FAR FROM THE UNENDING MALICE OF THE SUN, YOU MUST FIRST CREATE A COLD, DARK, AND VERY GENTLE PLACE.
>>6094200
>METACOMM TALK: "Really? Bring the cripple? Could you enlighten me as to how he could be useful when he's in his current state?"
>WHAT DO: Stare at the dice looming above, waiting for us to make a move. Ponder as to why God has abandoned us with such poor dice.
>SWITCH TO: BOIL. If he's useful, maybe we can check up on him. Fuck it. Why not?

File: DSF advisorial adversary.jpg (225 KB, 1701x1539)

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>SAFETY. TO HIDE FROM THE TERRORS ABOVE, FAR FROM THE UNENDING MALICE OF THE SUN, YOU MUST FIRST CREATE A COLD, DARK, AND VERY GENTLE PLACE.
>[You write in the rest...]

"Uh-huh." Jack nods as he rests against the computer console. You can faintly hear the whirr of servos as he carefully feigns the casual pose. "You are right - I have no love for the NOWHERE or my creators. And you do have a more noble goal than most. You sound like a real stand up guy, Captain."

He raises his finger, beckoning, and asks in the same light tone, "But now the question becomes: How many are you going to kill to make that kind of world?"

Your mandibles click...

... but you find that you do not have an answer. Not yet.

"If this is meant to be a test, I want no more part of this," you say coldly.

"Ah, I can't take it back, the words are already in the air. Sooner than later, you're going learn to swim in through that burning river, my man, because what else are you going to do?" The robot laughs. "I'll be waiting in my little shuttle. See you on the surface, Pal."

You remain silent as Jack leaves the room.
Time to prepare the ship for its final descent...

[MOTH] Troublesome. These robots are truly troublesome.
[PARANOIA] No nerves to staple. Maybe his previous crew had the right idea with the airlock.
[EXILE] Your people, then all others, will thank you for this gift in time.

[You open metacomms. There's a few choice comments from POMPY, of course...]
<P: Well, I was being a bit of a jerk with that question. But I'm still right, and Heath knows it.>
<P: It's a nice dream, but the entire fucking world with all of its armies is going to come crashing down upon that little dream of his...>
<P: "The ocean is vast and always approaches.">
[A static pause.]
<P: Heath is the perfect candidate for the tutorial, you know. Almost a blank. Maybe too perfect because of that.>
<P: Was that his wish or yours?>
<P: Don't answer that. A rhetorical question.>

[You take a sip of the glass. Bleh, tap water.]

>METACOMM TALK: "Also, really? Bring the cripple? Could you enlighten me as to how he could be useful when he's in his current state?"
<P: Yeah, bring the cripple! He's a big guy.>
<M: For you.>
<P: Pfffttt, sure, but I can take down that big oaf, no problem. One Combat Tutorial coming up!>
<P: I'm being serious when I say to bring him.>
<P: I went through the logs and he's apparently got a gun on him. See if you can figure out what it is. And if he can't lend any more engineering knowhow or manpower to this run, there's nothing wrong with using him as a meat shield.>
[Faint static plays.]
<[PSYCHOPOMP] P: If he's going to HELL, then let's speed him on his way! If not, and he dies down there on the surface of FORTUNA itself, that's still a pretty big step up in the BUGCHUD. It'll be a honest death. A *good* death, one that will leave its mark on the Reach.>
<P: Just follow my lead on this, Pal. I'm ready to show you the way.>

File: DSF cryo failure.jpg (360 KB, 2663x2077)

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>SWITCH TO: BOIL. If he's useful, maybe we can check up on him. Fuck it. Why not?
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HUMAN DOWNTIME (Atrium Carceri, Cities Last Broadcast, God Body Disconnect - A Thousand Empty Rooms) https://youtu.be/5jfU1HN2pSQ

You are BOIL LANCER, former Station Engineer of the Gorgon's Threat, and you are not going to die.

SYSTEM.INCOMPATIBILITY_ERROR(EXAMINE.FETCH;)
SYSTEM.INCOMPATIBILITY_ERROR(EXAMINE.FETCH;)
SYSTEM.INCOMPATIBILITY_ERROR(EXAMINE.FETCH;)

The interface of the cryochamber emits buzz after buzz. Both Henries are spouting gibberish in perfect but accented Uncommon between each other (to himself?) as one works behind the computer console.

"Node 24... afternoon tea minister meat.," Henry says.
"Has the infestation from a long time ago finished?" Henry says.

[INTERFACING] "Nothing to be done," you intone. It's plain to see already, with no progress for the last two hours, but your words fall on deaf ears. These moths just won't quit even as they are bathed in the red glare of the ERROR messages.

"I don't understand why this isn't working today! The blood sample is fine, your biology should be compatible!" Henry exclaims!
"There was a damn SYSTEM update! How could we have known!" Henry exclaims!

"Nothing to be done," you repeat. You wheeze out as you stifle another cough.

There is massive pain when you talk. There is massive pain when you breathe. There is massive pain when you move. The worst pain, however, comes when you cough.

When the station was on a good orbital cycle and the stars were right, it would have taken only a few weeks to stitch back an injury like this.

It's only been two hours since your rescue. The only thing you've recovered is your breath.

"My comrade from the blessed earth." You remain silent as the little sparrow flits onto your shoulder. First the station, now this greedy bastard is going to try to steal your breath. "Our ship descends to great FORTUNA below. Would you confide in me the wish you will make?"

The name stirs a faint memory. "The 'Wish Granter?' Is that... To be our destination?"

"The one and the same, of course!"

"This is the height of foolishness." This filthy merchant is saying words but they don't correspond to anything sensible. FORTUNA, FORTUNA...

A flash of the white nubs of pseudoteeth. "Don't-"

"But," you cut off the bird before he utters another word. "In my condition, I don't have much of a choice in the matter. I can only follow wherever you are taking me. Let's hope there aren't any further surprises involved."

"Well!" The little bird grinds its sharp little beakteeth as it cocks its head towards you and smiles. "You're in for a real treat, man. We've just brought a robot onboard."

[REMNANT OF PSYDONIA] An overwhelming dread seizes your heart.

"ZIZOID!" You scream the accursed name, scrambling to your feet even as your vision goes white and something in your chest *cracks.* "MALEDICTION! DAEMON FROM SPACE!"

Before you can take another step or arm yourself for the hunt, your entire body is wracked with a coughing fit.

You collapse to your knees...

Henry stands up abruptly.
Henry stands up abruptly.
You hear something, but you can't make out the words!
You hear something, but you can't make out the words!

You try to crawl forward, but Henry grabs you aggressively and sits you upright onto the crate. The Jian merchant watches in amusement.

"What the Hell... is your damnfool Captain thinking... consorting with one of those devil machines?" You slur as soon as you regain balance.

"Oi, don't stand up like that again," the shorter Henry says.
[DESERTER] "Even if we hate it, the Captain's orders were to leave it alone," the taller Henry mutters.

"This one, at least, appears friendly," Zhang chimes in. "He hasn't tried to kill us so far much like his kin. He even speaks! Thus we've reached a parley. He comes with us."

You try to speak out, but it's clear that you're outnumbered. Well and truly. The only man among these truly inhuman beings.

Nothing to be done.

Except, perhaps...

[REMNANT OF PSYDONIA] You rub the small golden Psycross in your pocket. Your entire life has instilled in you only a cursory faith in the imperial cult of !!GREAT PSYDON!!

The eternal tyrant of the star-grasping Empire, yes, but the Archon of All beneath the Heavens? The One True Faith?

And yet...

Under your breath, you find yourself muttering the first sincere prayer of your entire life.

A calm enters your heart. You feel just a little more braver than before...

"ALL CREW PREPARE FOR DISEMBARK. DESTINATION: FORTUNA."

"Listen. Human," Henry says. "You're hurt pretty bad. I wouldn't go out in your condition. Just stay put and after all this is over, we can-"

"Bring me to the earth below," you say.

"Is that really-?"

[LONE SURVIVOR] You grit your teeth. "My only wish is to live another day. Here, all I'm doing is waiting for death. So if the rumors are true... I want to see if this world will let me live a little while longer."

[You recall that Henry is holding the only stimpack. And that's the ONLY medicine which you have seen so far.]

"ALL CREW MEMBERS, PREPARE FOR LUNCH, THEN FOR DISEMBARK."

The Captain's announcement can't come soon enough.

- 2x Meat Ration (Zhang: Peckish -> Engorged; Boil: Starving -> Hungry)
- 2x Quality Rations (Henry and Henry: Hungry -> Well Fed; Stress -2)
- 1x Veggie Ration (Heath: Hungry -> Well Fed)
- 1x Tin of Tea Leaves (All Stress -1)
Meat rations x1, veggie rations x1 remain...

"I would really like a cold one right now."
"You think there's a cold beer for us at the end of all this?"
"Would it be 'us' or just 'me'?"

"Short of the taste of gore, there is nothing quite like pilfered food. How do you find the tea, man?"
"It's... good."
"Ha ha! Live and drink, my friend."

"Captain."
"Human."
"Where is the daemon now?"
"It is waiting in the other airlock."
"You've damned us all in bringing it aboard. There's nothing good to come of it."
"I am aware now. 'Demon.' That is very fitting. I will remember that."
"Just keep us alive and you'll be able to reminisce."

File: DSF tutorial planetfall.jpg (121 KB, 1558x1410)

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HUMAN EXPLORE (Fallout 1 Soundtrack - Desert Wind (The Wasteland)) https://youtu.be/EaRiY7WkMhw

You stand in a forest of thorns.

A bitter wind blows through the jagged wasteland. The soft and gentle sunlight is skewered upon the ancient spikes, bleeding long shadows which loom over you and the ship...

There is a bare path here.

You do not deign to shake the dust off your feet as you follow the Captain and his daemon forward.

[STATION ENGINEER] You've seen these standing stones before. Under the earth, the ruins of Old Psydonia, in the places where the flameless fires dwell. But there's something unnatural to these structures, more than the photos depicted - it's as if the earth itself disgorged this entire field of thorns, a chaos of growth rather than the wisdom of architecture...

[INTERFACING] A shudder. You can feel the electricity crackling in the air as it runs off the spike surfaces...

You tread the path.

>JACK EXAMINES BONES
The daemon peers behind one of the pillars. A pile of white bones lays there. He leans in closer, if trying to divine the secrets of the stripped-bare future. He motions to the Captain.

[PSYCHOPOMP] "It's dead."

"Certainly."

"No, no, hear me out: there's no cause of death. It looks to have been freshly killed, but this lizard thing has been dead for its entire existence. Do you see? At no point was this adult lizard thing ever alive..."

[PSYCHOPOMP] He turns his head. He's smiling. "Captain... Something very bad is about to happen here."

[UNCANNY] "For the love of God, be silent with your abnormal remarks," you hiss.

The facial display swivels all the way around to get a good look at you.

It seems like it's about to say something, but all it does is laugh and laugh. At you.

Sickening...

You're too disgusted to lay a hand on it. In simmering contempt, you march forward towards the source of an otherworldly sensation...

[ZHANG'S SHRIKE] "The tension of great conflict fills the air!" You hear the merchant's cry from behind, but you pay no heed.

There's a gate in the far distance.

>FORTUNA is there.

How could a man avoid his destiny?

>FORTUNA is calling.

>USE
>EXAMINE
>TALK
>RECOLLECT/NOTES
>SWITCH CHARACTER
>PRAY
>COMMIT SUICIDE

>METACOMMS (CLOSE, TALK, MUTE, REMOVE PATRON, ETC.)

>WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO?

<[PSYCHOPOMP] P: Hey Pal. It's the last stop before HELL. We're almost at the end. I can feel it.>
<P: I'm going to say it again: there's something seriously wrong about all this. I can't shake this dreadful feeling that there's something waiting for us beyond those gates. Waiting there for unaccountable eras.>
<P: Whoever touches that doorway
<P: O, iron gates of fate!>
<P: O, woeful vigil!>

File: DSF glue trap.jpg (269 KB, 1970x2341)

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To the two guys reading, I lost the heat, bros. I'm sorry. I keep losing that energy, over and over, with my artfag brain. I'm going to cut down and pace myself and see if I can at least finish this damn tutorial before the thread expires.

>>6104506
>I keep losing that energy, over and over, with my artfag brain
I know the feeling, but not like this

>>6104501
>HEAD TO THE GATE
>PRAY
>PRAY
>WEEP
>PRAY
>PRAY

>>6104517
+1
Let's rock

File: DSF WRECK OF THE WORLD.png (128 KB, 1024x576)

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>HEAD TO THE GATE
>PRAY
>PRAY
>WEEP
>PRAY
>PRAY

You find yourself weeping as you march towards the iron gates. Your heart feels like it is about to burst from this sudden emotion. Terror brings forth tears, but these prayers won't stop flowing from your mouth. You've forgotten the words of the verses; each syllable of the glossolalia burns your tongue as if in penance for your apathy and impiety.

!!GREAT PSYDON!!
PIETY: ..........

LORD HEARS YOU!!

And all at once, feels as if a fire has been lit within your soul. The furious blood of PSYDON is still boiling and raging for decades after his demise, yet the grace which comes down is cooling and soothing.

Is this a second chance?

You will survive this trial put before you. You must make something of yourself with this opportunity...

!!GREAT PSYDON!!
PIETY: *.........
>REBUKE Combat Action is available.

As best as you can, with failing body and willful hands, you put both upon the ancient gateway and push with all your might.

The doors swing open and at last, the shadow waiting at the end of the world bursts forth into the moment of her terrible oathbirth.

You recoil as the tremendous cloudburst of black smoke rushes onto the lifeless earth, the evil smog seeping in through your mask and eliciting painful shuddering coughs, before it begins to pour out in an almost unlimited volume, visibly darkening the sun as it starts to rise towards the heavens. But it's frantic flight stops in midair. A suspended black orb, like an unborn sun in miniature.

And within that darkness, a form begins to take shape.

[NETSPAWN] You hear the terrified and exultant laughter of the daemon far behind you.
You hear the first breaths of the fierce pale thing in the dark and you brace yourself.

The newborn goddess lets loose her first proclamation, a vagitus keening seemingly drenched with a lifetime of anger and misery. Sobs wrack her spasming, coalescing form as feathers sprout and are shed from the shuddering mass at an impossible speed. You scream out prayers to your fallen god even as they are swallowed up in the sheer din. You crouch down and put your hands over your head as the agonized screams of the birth begin to raise higher and higher into an unremitting tide of noise, with power enough to hurl the stars from out the heavens!

[You recoil at the Godawful noise emitting from your computer. Holy shit, that's loud! You cram fingers into your ears and you're trying to turn off the speakers and you're pressing buttons, but nothing's fucking working! Merrick and Merrick and another Merrick storm in through the doorway in a panic, but you can't hear anything they're shouting over the volume of that horrific screeching!]

[NEMESIS] Deep within the atramentous void, you can hear the sound of her wings...

[MOLD BREAKER] ERIS breaks the mold!

Congratulations!
The tutorial has been completed!
>We'll meet again someda

[The sound suddenly stops. Oh sweet relief.

The game has frozen before the rest of the message was revealed.

You immediately click a few times. Nothing, nothing, nothing...

"S-Sir, a-are you-"
"GET OUT, WOMAN, I'M PLAYING VIDEO GAMES!!! FUCK! I'm sorry!" You're standing up all of a sudden, but you feel really terrible for yelling at your maid.
"My apologies, sir, it won't happen again!" One bows, then another.
"Gee, I told you about his-" And the third starts to chide the two of them as she herds everyone out of the door.]

File: DSF ERIS.jpg (25 KB, 564x1158)

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ERIS, GODDESS OF THE RISING WATERS, OF GLORY AND STRIFE (Purcell - Funeral of Queen Mary [Synth Version] on Moog Grandmother and Modular Synth (Eurorack)) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z_4sWm5phAk

TIP: Where EXPERIENCE is gained through defeating monsters or acquiring treasure, GLORY is gained through feats of incredible heroism. In addition

GLORY IS THE MEASURE OF ALL THINGS, GLIMMERING IN GOLD FROM HORIZON TO HORIZON
GREATER TRIBULATIONS BRING FORTH GREATER GLORY
GLORY IS SHED TO DISSOLVE AND CHANGE THE FATES WOVEN IN THE THIRD HEAVEN
THUS PASSES THE GLORY OF THE WORLD

HEED MY WORDS, LITTLE PILGRIM!
GO FORTH IN GLORY AND STRIFE!
~ FIRST TEACHING OF ERIS ~

PICK YOUR POISON. (FINAL BOSS: DIFFICULTY/GLORY LEVEL)
>[PSYCHOPOMP] "I miss you. But you can't stay here. Run somewhere else, far away." (This Pitiful Corpse: *....)
>BEHOLD! A GOD WHO BLEEDS... (ERIS: **...)
>FRIENDS SAY IT'S FINE, FRIENDS SAY IT'S GOOD. EVERYBODY SAYS IT'S JUST LIKE ROBIN HOOD. (Elder Lemurian: ***..)
>[EXILE] "Escaping your purpose is impossible. Get ready to fucking die, you pieces of shit." (Authority Chief Heath Serras of the 5th Agenda and his Ordinators: ****.)
>[HELLSHOCK] Let it end in HELLFIRE! (HELLSHOCK V1: *****)
>WRITE IN.

>>6104858
>>[EXILE] "Escaping your purpose is impossible. Get ready to fucking die, you pieces of shit." (Authority Chief Heath Serras of the 5th Agenda and his Ordinators: ****.)

>>6104858
>FRIENDS SAY IT'S FINE, FRIENDS SAY IT'S GOOD. EVERYBODY SAYS IT'S JUST LIKE ROBIN HOOD. (Elder Lemurian: ***..)
I read all of 20th Century Boy by the way, and I loved it. The song is also godlike, T-Rex are the coolest out there

>>6104858
>[EXILE] "Escaping your purpose is impossible. Get ready to fucking die, you pieces of shit." (Authority Chief Heath Serras of the 5th Agenda and his Ordinators: ****.)

Rolled 1 (1d6)

>ERIS gently takes the ENCOUNTER dice.
>W-WUH! W-Who- What are you!
>...
>ERIS rolls 1d6 for ENCOUNTER NUMBER (Ordinator Squad).

Rolled 2, 2 + 3 = 7 (2d6 + 3)

>ERIS rolls 2d6-3 for ENCOUNTER REACTION.

MOTH REACTION TABLE:
1: KILL ON SIGHT.
2-4: Hold position, attack if move closer.
5-8: Interrogate from a distance.
9-11: Willing to negotiate the Agenda.
12: Is uncharacteristically, enthusiastically friendly.

>D-Do you need help? You're meant to...
>...
>...peep...

Rolled 4, 6 - 3 = 7 (2d6 - 3)

>>6105365
You need to enter this:
>dice+2d6+-3
and only then does it work. Watch

>>6105393
Well, assuming we stick with 4 being the past roll...
It's kill on sight. (4-3 = 1)
Uh oh.

File: DSF moth showdown.jpg (363 KB, 2625x2625)

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>[EXILE] "Escaping your purpose is impossible. Get ready to fucking die, you pieces of shit." (Authority Chief Heath Serras of the 5th Agenda and his Ordinators: ****.)
>7, INTERROGATE
>7, INTERROGATE
>...
>L-Let go already!
>You're scaring me...

You blink.

Smile. There's a gun pointed right at your head.

Not more than a few yards away is the Captain, his curved claws poised upon the trigger of a heavy revolver.

"Halt."

But even though he has his face and his voice, it is not the Captain. Not in height nor in apparel nor in the tone of cold authority which demands and assumes total control of the scenario unfolding before you.

A little moth shuffles beside him, clad in a straightjacket, looking quite mad indeed.

"Stay where you are or you will be sterilized. Put your hands above your head and make no further movements."

[LONE SURVIVOR] Everything comes into focus. The thorns like monuments. The ache in your chest as it fights for every breath. The object of your heart's desire in the distance.

[NEMESIS] Upon the instrument of death, the sunlight softly gleams.

You raise both hands in surrender.

"Human, tell us," Heath says with the voice of Governing Authority. "Where is the Captain Heath Serras of World-Line B, of the 7th Agenda?"

[LONE SURVIVOR] "Who pulls a gun against a dying man?"

[MOTH] The appeal to alien morality fails. "Where is Captain Heath? If you want to live, you must tell us. We were brought here by unknown phenomenon. Yet I can feel the presence of that damnable traitor more than ever."

[PARANOIA] "Yes. These events are linked altogether. Your plans are known. Your plans are irrelevant. The Machine has entrapped the second person there beneath your skin. Rebellion is futile. You will answer our questions. Where is the God Machine that he has hidden from us? Why is the Machine hidden from us? Hidden then? Are you in league with that Captain Heath? Do not lie."

>USE
>EXAMINE
>TALK
>RECOLLECT/NOTES
>SWITCH CHARACTER

>PRAY
>REBUKE
>COMMIT SUICIDE

>METACOMMS (CLOSE, TALK, MUTE, REMOVE PATRON, ETC.)

>WHAT DO YOU WANT TO DO?

<P: Shit!>
<P: I can see him!>
<P: The Captain's right behind me, and everyone else too!>
<P: When that darkness>
<P: We talk about it later. MORDRED! What do you want the rest of us to do?>

>>6105439
>MUTTER A PRAYER.
>Look towards the mad Moth. Maybe we can use them as a distraction. Depends if they're a catatonic mad or a schizo mad.
>TALK: "Answer for an answer. What's up with the moth in the straitjacket? Tell me this and I'll tell you my alliance towards Captain Heath."

>>6105439
Loading...

You stand at the edge of an arena in the clearing of this forest of spikes. Dust swirls across the cracked tiles.

To your left is another of those tremendous towers. The prismatic base is larger than your own height sideways, easily fitting at least three men, and at its tip hangs a precarious fold of stone, tilted downwards like a bare smooth neck bent down in disgrace and exile.

The electric tension of conflict fills the air...

Got excited, and forgot important details.

>>6105439
What the fuck is even going on? Were we not controlling Heath? Were the entire spaceship party entering the blasted zone inner sanctum on this FORTUNA planet?

>>6105444
+1 this to stall for time?

>>6105469
We swapped to boil since I went "fuck it if he's so important why not check him out"
And now we're just sorta along for the ride.

>>6105481
It looks like the order is
>we swap to Boil
>go to FORTUNA gate in thorn forest of blasted zone
>psydon hears prayers
>gate opens
>some sick trippy birth sequence?
>eris comes out
>darkness floods the blasted zone
>game freezes
>roll for the final boss
>game unfreezes
>darkness is gone
>but now Boil is separated from the group
>somewhere else in the blasted zone?
>facing a duplicate Heath and straightjacket moth
>but the rest of the group are still okay despite being a distance away
>they're coming to the rescue right now
Is that right?

>>6105488
I believe so, yes.