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3/24/2025, 5:40:24 PM
You stop between two seemingly empty partitions, in a disused part of the city. Nothing seems to have caught up to you, but it's only a matter of time now. The beeping hasn't been helping, and plenty of people have been alerted by it despite your best efforts. You turn around and look up at the distant tower, making sure that the numerous figures are still orbiting it. It's not like you expect Brigadramon to personally turn its Gatling cannon on you, but all naughty children are taught to look towards it when they misbehave, and you're no exception.
Despite the sound it causes, you're forced to take your hand off your mouth so you can check your outfit and make sure you look proper. You clench your teeth and purse your lips tight, trying to muffle the blasted sound with a staunch pout. A quick refresh resets your long hair to the state you saved it in, and your laurel headband returns to its rightful place. You tug on your zipper, loosening the baggy jacket and letting its numerous folds ease onto one another. You know how how it gets inside the workshop.
A tiny rubber duck emerges from your inventory, and you throw it into the gap between the partitions. It's incinerated in an instant, turning into 1s and 0s that drift away into cyberspace. What's left behind is a brass door, covered in verdigris and standing out like a sore thumb between the two slate-grey buildings on either side. You place your hand on the false texture of its surface and load yourself into the smaller chamber.
"Rubber duck, rubber duck... Stephen! That must be you!" Exclaims a voice, as soon as you enter the entry hall.
"It's Marnie, Doc."
"Well, shit. Then what did I give him?"
You shrug, casually moving through the grid of lasers that welcome every visitor. They spare you from their freeze-code payload, courtesy of the key item you've presented. A couple of turns later, you're in the sweltering heat of the workshop, in a partition that's almost filled to the brim with data. The man you're here to see is working away on a table, assembling a whole line of cloak.app files.
"Just a minute, love, need to put on the finishing touches..." Doc mumbles, as he inscribes a thin pattern within the app icon. You wait patiently.
Despite the sound it causes, you're forced to take your hand off your mouth so you can check your outfit and make sure you look proper. You clench your teeth and purse your lips tight, trying to muffle the blasted sound with a staunch pout. A quick refresh resets your long hair to the state you saved it in, and your laurel headband returns to its rightful place. You tug on your zipper, loosening the baggy jacket and letting its numerous folds ease onto one another. You know how how it gets inside the workshop.
A tiny rubber duck emerges from your inventory, and you throw it into the gap between the partitions. It's incinerated in an instant, turning into 1s and 0s that drift away into cyberspace. What's left behind is a brass door, covered in verdigris and standing out like a sore thumb between the two slate-grey buildings on either side. You place your hand on the false texture of its surface and load yourself into the smaller chamber.
"Rubber duck, rubber duck... Stephen! That must be you!" Exclaims a voice, as soon as you enter the entry hall.
"It's Marnie, Doc."
"Well, shit. Then what did I give him?"
You shrug, casually moving through the grid of lasers that welcome every visitor. They spare you from their freeze-code payload, courtesy of the key item you've presented. A couple of turns later, you're in the sweltering heat of the workshop, in a partition that's almost filled to the brim with data. The man you're here to see is working away on a table, assembling a whole line of cloak.app files.
"Just a minute, love, need to put on the finishing touches..." Doc mumbles, as he inscribes a thin pattern within the app icon. You wait patiently.
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