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Previous Thread:

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/33694488/

Archive:

http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=Joker%20Quest

Equipment FAQ:

http://pastebin.com/hYnqjFsi

Player List:

http://pastebin.com/rRSM6LgW

Episode Guide (All credit to Watashiwa):

http://pastebin.com/DNGtTt04

Yui IF scene (Adult content):

http://pastebin.com/8CSEVSXB

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JokerQuestOP

Recap: You are ANON, the RED JOKER. In our last instalment, you infiltrated the DIADEM - With help from UTOPIA RULER - and explored the depths of the PRESERVATORIUM. Upon entering the TERMINAL, you encountered another intruder: AKIRA, the THIEF.
>>
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>>33839206

HOLLOW SUN: 8.2%

http://pastebin.com/JN4Xsuna

RESEARCH:

[X] TERMINUS SCANNER
[X] FALSEHOOD ARRAY
[X] RESEARCH: ASSAULT HARDSHELL
[X] DIRAC TRANSMITTER I
[X] MASS DRIVER
[X] SCRANDER PROPULSION SYSTEM

VOID ANCHORS:

ORIGINAL HIVE
THE TRIBUNAL
NARAKA
THE VAULT

HOLDING: 1

FLARE ORIOLE: 1
IRON OGRE: 1

RED COMET GUIDE:

http://pastebin.com/LJAfQmXy
>>
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>>33839240

STAGE: THE VAULT

Deep within the Vault, a maze stretches forth; A great labyrinth of gantries and pipes, an endless profusion of ladder-shafts and walkways and metal lattices extending ever-downwards, in constant vibration from the pounding of the furnace sublevels and the engine noise overhead.

The air is close, scorched; The Vault's permanent ceiling of black cloud and ash low enough to be scraped with fingertips. A semicircle of exhaust tubes rings the central platform, like organ pipes - Echoing the roar of machinery deep below the twisting corridors, radiating dull heat.

Tendrils of smoke coil against Silver Cross's form - His reflective carapace dulled to grey, limbs articulating nimbly as he skitters across the walls with a spider's grace. The specialized embeds in his spindly limbs - Spindly but strong - click and whirr, adjusting between wall and floor and ceiling, three-sixty differential wrists and auto-lock digits flexing and twisting for optimum grip.

Maglocks disengage, with a low *clunk* as he levers the Void Anchor from his shoulders - Cradling it, as the Anchor whirrs and unlocks, as green telltales flicker to life; the crimson cross of his rank smouldering with low red light. Outside, his squad awaits - Holding their positions, the weapons of the Hollow Sun at the ready, their new toys still uneasy in their hands.

Silver Cross twists the cylinder, and secures it in place. It purrs, primed - The others could have done this for him, but for this task, for the exacting precision required, Silver Cross trusts no-one but himself.

There is a new note in the symphony of power. The Void Anchor purrs, as it begins to leech life from the web of machinery around it, the glow of the reactor dimming; Cross's talons dig into the angled surface, and he *climbs* as the first oily flash spills from within.

And in the Sheol Star Arcade, the lights go out for the last time.

(Continued)
>>
>>33839518
>And in the Sheol Star Arcade, the lights go out for the last time.
Good riddance.
>>
>>33839518
>Tendrils of smoke coil against Silver Cross's form - His reflective carapace dulled to grey, limbs articulating nimbly as he skitters across the walls with a spider's grace. The specialized embeds in his spindly limbs - Spindly but strong - click and whirr, adjusting between wall and floor and ceiling, three-sixty differential wrists and auto-lock digits flexing and twisting for optimum grip.
Man, it must have been hell to learn how to move properly with that body.
>>
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>>33839518

STAGE: THE DIADEM (TERMINUS)

"-What the hell are you doing here?"

The Thief's voice is a dry, toneless *hiss*, a curt exhalation - Each word delivered with the snap of a protracted threat, a counterpoint to the grinding hum of the Fatal Abyss against the Hand of Midas. Black steel against orichalcum; the contact just on the very edge of perception, the bare metal of the floor underfoot a curious contrast to the lush greenery around you - Just outside the bubble of reality, just beyond the anti-light of the Nihl Sphere.

Around you, the jungle thrums with wind-rustle and animal cries, the constant ruffle of leaves and branches high above; smooth, gray-gold trunks of jungle trees supporting walls of leaf and vine, the images startlingly clear, amazingly real - A recording in real-time, only accentuated by the surreal intensity of the Red World.

Totenaz's black coat is ragged, tattered in places - The gleam of wire-mail showing through the dark and stained fabric, even as the same sullen intensity burns in the pits of his skull.

You've heard that skulls always grin, but the Thief puts the lie to those words; the mouthpiece of his helmet twisted in an eternal scowl, a snarl, as bleak and unyielding as the rest of his form.

He twists his wrist, and the Fatal Abyss slides free. The chill vibrates down through your arm; Your fingers flexing as the Thief lowers the black sword to his side, sliding it back into the lacquered scabbard.

(Continued)
>>
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>>33839757

"Joker," he says, and it's an affirmation - Your Argus System prickles, as if registering the faint probe of subtle sensors. Just for a moment, as the Thief looks, judges and relaxes...

-Fractionally.

Coming from him, that's practically a welcome.

"-I asked you a question." his voice is brusque, but not provoking - The Fatal Abyss held in his right hand, bony fingers tight against the scabbard's binding.

"Why are you here?"

[ ] "That's my line."
[ ] "Same reason as you, I'd guess."
[ ] "What have you found?"
[ ] "How did you even *get* in here?"
[ ] "Two in one night. What are the odds?"
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL
>>
>>33839783
>[ ] "That's my line."
>[ ] "How did you even *get* in here?"
"Just the usual stuff. Play with powers beyond my understanding and hope that only the right people die.
Or, in this case, go to sleep.

But don't forget: The walls here have ears. This is Hyades territory, after all."
>>
>>33839783
>[X] "What have you found?"
"I'm here because no one expects me to be here. Isn't it the same for you?"
>>
>>33839823

> "I'm here because no one expects me to be here. Isn't it the same for you?"

The Thief makes a low, rasping sound, a sound that might almost be amusement.

> [X] "That's my line."
> [X] "How did you even *get* in here?"

"-Answers." His skull cants to the side, regarding the phantasmal landscape the borders the vague bubble of reality; "So many people, coming and going. Easy enough for one to slip away."

"Not meant to be here. Neither of us."

There's something grim - grimmer - lurking in his voice, a calculated foreboding; This place, you realize, makes him uneasy. He carries himself stiffly, his posture alert - never at ease, even when at rest.

> "Just the usual stuff. Play with powers beyond my understanding and hope that only the right people die.
> "Or, in this case, go to sleep."

"Convergence." A single word, a knowing nod - Totenaz's boots scuffing against the bare metal of the ground. "Heard the rumours. Didn't believe it. Until-"

The fingers of his right hand twitch, against the black binding.

"-We're not the first ones here, Joker." The Thief's voice cuts through the vague distortion of simulated noise around you. "Someone's been running a game on us."

The rasp to his voice tells you exactly how he feels about being manipulated. The sudden spasm of anger passes, as quick as a cloud across the face of the moon; Totenaz straightening, drawing himself to his full height.

"So. Answers."

> [X] "What have you found?"

His left hand gestures, to indicate the chamber.

"-A simulated space." Two quick strides takes the Thief to the edge of the hemisphere of bare metal - He passes a hand through, a ripple of distortion in it's wake. "Light. Illusion. But..."

(Continued)
>>
>>33840185

"*They* can feel it. The Players you saw - Different from us."

Bony fingers curl against a bony palm. "These - Built for combat. For durability. Their bodies..." The Thief's voice trails off, and he shakes his head.

"...Another purpose? In this place?"

> Or, in this case, go to sleep.
> But don't forget: The walls here have ears. This is Hyades territory, after all."

"Ambitious." His mask never changes expression, but you get the impression of grim amusement. The Thief nods in your direction, at the Nihl Sphere.

"-This way."

He begins to pace, towards the far end of the chamber; The flickering bubble of reality trailing in his wake, the Nihl Sphere so cold it burns.

A glance, over his shoulder:

"-Should stop using that," the Thief says, warning in his voice. "Might be detected."

[ ] "...What did you mean 'they can feel it'?"
[ ] "A simulated space? You mean - Like a demense?"
[ ] "A different kind of Player..."
[ ] "I know. I've been to the Presevatorium."
[ ] "What *is* this place, then?"
[ ] "You think they're watching us, right now?"
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL
>>
>>33839518
Fuck yes Silver Cross you are amazing.
>>
>>33840245
"Wait, they can touch the illusions?"
Shut down the Nihl and follow the guy.

"Up until now I guessed that the girls might be powering the Hyades system with their essence.
But then why can they even gain upgrades?"


Man, the guy seems to have changed.
>>
>>33840245
>[X] "A simulated space? You mean - Like a demense?"
>[X] "A different kind of Player..."
>[X] "I know. I've been to the Presevatorium."
>[X] "A different kind of Player..."

>"Hey, let me bounce a theory off of you. Imagine a player who has one of those useless bodies. Weak, frail, unarmed. So he grafts correctors to himself to get stronger. Over, and over, and over again, more grafts, until eventually you can't even see the frame underneath. More corrector than player. Sound like anybody you know?"
>>
>>33840245
How did you find out about this place?

. . . . are you doing okay in the real world?
>>
>>33840245
Shut down the Nihl Sphere.

>[X] "A simulated space? You mean - Like a demense?"
>[X] "You think they're watching us, right now?"
>>
>>33840245
Hide the nihl.

>[X] "A different kind of Player..."
>[X] "What *is* this place, then?"
>[X] "You think they're watching us, right now?"
>"How have you been?"
>>
>>33840245
>[X] "A simulated space? You mean - Like a demense
>[X] "A different kind of Player..."
"Some of them were preparing for the limiter to drop by acquiring weapons. I suspect they planned to devour the students who haven't taken the Red World seriously while they remained unaware."
"Have you really been here since we last met?"
>>
>>33840384
>"Some of them were preparing for the limiter to drop by acquiring weapons. I suspect they planned to devour the students who haven't taken the Red World seriously while they remained unaware."
wat

Seriously. What?
How the fuck did you get idea? Are you referring to the girls who go out and fight and get upgrades that way?
>>
>>33840432
Last thread. The girl with the Volt weapon talked about not having anyone to fight "yet". Since the weapons aren't built in and most of the girls here treat thr Red like a vacation spot, the implications should be obvious.
>>
>>33840284
>>33840335
>>33840350

> Shut down the Nihl Sphere.

The Helix Gauntlet's shutters close; The baleful light of the Nihl Sphere momentarily banished. The jungle floods in to fill the void, closing over you - You don't walk *through* the illusion like a man through a diorama: Instead, it engulfs you, making you part of the tapestry - A moving distortion, a visual ghost, a shimmering image that blurs the world around it as it continues to move.

Before you, the Thief's striding form is much the same; If he'd been standing still, he might have passed for an imperfection in the simulation, nothing more - But when moving, he drags a shimmering, phantasmal cloak with him, like some kind of invisible predator.

>>33840321

The Thief stops, abruptly - So suddenly you nearly collide with him. He has his right arm up, before his face; the fingers curling into a fist, as he stands as still as a statue...Then exhales, a shuddering sound that comes out in a static-laden rasp.

"-Steel Crusader," he says. In the twitching light, it's nearly impossible to work out the context of his words; The name strikes you as familiar, somehow. You vaguely recall glimpsing someone like that-

...One of the Hyades champions.

"Found him. Followed him. Extracted his intelligence."

There's a taut effort to his words, an audible strain.

"Managing his consciousness...Difficult."

> [X] "A simulated space? You mean - Like a demense."

"'Demense.'" The Thief echoes the word, tasting it, as if it's the first time he's heard it. He nods, at last - A slight, almost imperceptible motion.

"This place-"

"...It's a prototype."

> "Wait, they can touch the illusions?"

"Not only that. They can *feel*, Joker." The Thief sweeps an arm out, the limb ghosting through a tall tree. "-To them, it's solid. To them, it's real."

A glance, over his shoulder. "But not to us."

> [X] "You think they're watching us, right now?"

"They can't."

(Continued)
>>
>>33840485
Have you forgotten that the girls can enter the Red temporarily?
She was talking about how she just gained the ability but didn't have a chance to use it in a fight yet. And the other girls were envious.

Did we even see her weapon? She might also have been talking about a videogame.
>>
>>33840569
>"Managing his consciousness...Difficult."
Huh, that's interesting.
>>
>>33840594
Sounds like he has something similar to the codeburst we can use to absorb memories.
>>
>>33840569
Was Akira friends with our friends in the Real? If so, we should tell him that they miss him and will be glad to hear that he's okay.

Lets poke the unstable man, who apparently might have other people inside his head now.

Interesting that other Hyades champions have been here. Perhaps we should ask if the Hyades are his enemies as well.
>>
>>33840569

"The Diadem is warded. To sensors, to them, it doesn't exist." He looks up - "A blind spot. A secret area; The only way in is by direct access, or by teleportation-"

A flicker, in those burning eyes. "...Which can only be controlled from here."

> [X] "A different kind of Player..."

The words linger in the sweltering air.

"Joker-" The Thief's voice is thoughtful, now. Turning inward.

"-I don't think they know what they *are*."

> "Some of them were preparing for the limiter to drop by acquiring weapons. I suspect they planned to devour the students who haven't taken the Red World seriously while they remained unaware."
> "Up until now I guessed that the girls might be powering the Hyades system with their essence. But then why can they even gain upgrades?"

He makes a low, dismissive sound - But the unease lingers.

"-Do they look dangerous to you?" Animation is returning to the Thief's voice, clearly triumphing in his internal struggle. "They don't know what they have. Arcadia-"

And the glow in his eyes strengthens.

"It's a toy to them. Not Players, but..."

"-tourists."

> "Have you really been here since we last met?"

"No." It's brusque. "-Came in with the Festival, like a proper guest."

Ahead, the curtain of illusion parts, giving way to a gate - Black, glossy, of the same carbon-fibre material the consoles were composed of. And on the surface of the double-doors, a single numeral:

I

>>33840311

"-Kraken." The Thief makes the single word - The sharp exhalation - a curse. His grip tightens against the hilt of the Fatal Abyss. And with it, an unwelcome sound; Surprise. That was something he didn't know.

"You're certain of this?"

[ ] "Who else could it be?"
[ ] "'Extracted his intelligence'? What does that mean?"
[ ] "...How do we get this open?"
[ ] "What do you make of...Well, all this?"
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL
>>
>>33840744
>[X] "Who else could it be?"
>[X] "'Extracted his intelligence'? What does that mean?"
>[X] "...How do we get this open?"
>>
>>33840744
"I saw a recording in the preservatorium. Apparently it allows you to upgrade yourself with corrector parts.

So, what is your goal here? Stop it all? Find something?"
>>
>>33840744
[ ] "Who else could it be?"
[ ] "'Extracted his intelligence'? What does that mean?"
>>
>>33840744
>"It's a toy to them. Not Players, but..." "-tourists."
See?

>>33840731
He was friends with us and Kazuya.
>>
>>33840744
"It gets even crazier: The preservatorium's systems apparently considered Kraken's ID to be a Joker.
He had black blood oozing from his body in his recording. Maybe he spoofed a Black Joker ID."

You know, Capote would be perfect here. We could show a replay on its surface.
>>
>>33840775
>>33840935

> [X] "Who else could it be?"
> "It gets even crazier: The preservatorium's systems apparently considered Kraken's ID to be a Joker. He had black blood oozing from his body in his recording. Maybe he spoofed a Black Joker ID."

"The black oil..." The Thief murmurs, under his breath, as if correcting you.

"'-Lachryma'."

> "I saw a recording in the preservatorium. Apparently it allows you to upgrade yourself with corrector parts."

He goes still, at your words. Deathly still, a meditative readiness that seems to flow from him, that fills the room with capacity for action.

"*A* Joker." The unease wells up in his words, again - Until, abruptly, he shakes his head. "...It doesn't matter," the Thief says, with a stiff finality, as if dismissing the unwelcome thoughts. But it's clear that your words have troubled him, more than he's willing to admit...And can't help but show.

"Nothing to be done. Not now."

> [X] "'Extracted his intelligence'? What does that mean?"

His head swivels towards you. The silence looms, as if wondering how much he should reveal.

"It means that I keep what I kill, Joker." The Thief's words are reluctant, giving up his secret grudgingly. His right arm tenses, involuntarily, at his side...Before he lifts his hand before him, the wrist articulating slowly. "This hand - *My* hand - is an extracting tool."

"-Embeds. Codes. Intelligences. To consume is to become."

His fingers curl into a bony claw.

"Enough of this. We have work to do."

> [X] "...How do we get this open?"

The doors are seemingly a solid plane of adamantite - The seam barely visible, right down the centre. The Thief presses his right hand to the stone besides the door; Green lines, schematic lines, flicker outwards from the point of contact, his shoulders tensing in concentration.

> PROCESSING SYSTEM ACCESS AUTHORITY...

It's not a voice, but a revelation - As if the meaning of the words have been broadcast directly to your brain.

(Continued)
>>
>>33841224
>As if the meaning of the words have been broadcast directly to your brain.
Looks like the Red has WiFi.

On that matter, I wonder if we might need some cyber security. We plug our armor into god knows what, which often modifies it at low-level access, and yet never worried about possible drawbacks.
We might have dozens of Player STDs by now. The Joker is a filthy whore that interfaces with all available equipment.
>>
>>33841224

> SYSTEM ACCESS INVAL-
> ASSESSING PROXY CODE
> RECEIVING...
> ...
> ..
> .

> So, what is your goal here? Stop it all? Find something?"

Your words echo in the narrow space - The Thief doesn't look at you, but his answer comes soon enough.

"-To find sanctuary."

The flat words, redolent with dread, hang in the air like a curse. The unease has returned to the Thief's voice, beneath the steely concentration; A voice that lacks his usual conviction.

"A zone hidden from the Red. A place without Players. A place of safety-"

He stops. "And answers. To everything."

Totenaz says it as if he's trying to make himself believe it.

> If so, we should tell him that they miss him and will be glad to hear that he's okay.

"Hnnnnn."

> PROXY CODE INVA-
> OVERR-
> PROCESSING...

The light changes. The vibrant jungle around you grows ghostly, the flat colour of the walls and floor becoming visible at last. As if the power is being sucked away, as lines of emerald radiance branch forth across the stone.

Abruptly-

"-Anon." Affectless, but with an odd hesitancy. "...There's one more thing."

A long silence follows, until the Thief speaks again.

"I have this...presentiment." Something alien shades into his words. Anxiety? Resignation? "Just a feeling, nothing more: I think - At long last - we may finally be running out of road."

He turns to regard you, at last.

"Joker - I think this will be the last adventure. For all of us."

[ ] "That's not like you."
[ ] "You can't think like that."
[ ] "What brought this on?"
[ ] "I don't think we're at the end. Not yet."
[ ] "..."
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL
>>
>>33841288
>[X] "That's not like you."
>[X] "You can't think like that."

ENDGAME INCOMING
>>
>>33841288
"Well, then let's make the best of it and go out in a blaze of glory.
If we are lucky, we might end up with mundane lives afterwards. Or at least with fried Calamari.

You need to meet me later. I've got some gadgets that you might enjoy."
>>
>>33841288
>[X] "That's not like you."
>"You know, that's probably what they said last time, as well."
>>
>>33841288
"Do you really have so little faith in me? I'm fighting to make sure this isn't the last adventure for all of you."
>>
>>33841288
"You know, I plan for a nice party for when this all ends.
Wanna go out drinking when the time comes?"
>>
>>33841288
"Judging by what I found recently? There are much worse things waiting ahead. The comes either after we deal with them or die."
"I prefer the former."
>>
> [X] "That's not like you."
> [X] "You can't think like that."

The Thief shrugs, in a way that somehow manages to communicate his contempt for the situation.

> "You know, that's probably what they said last time, as well."

"They may have been right," he mutters. "-Look at our world, Anon. Perhaps all this time - Every moment of the past six years - has been nothing more than a stay of execution."

>>33841325

He shakes his head.

"Maybe." It's a word that's laden with meaning. "Or maybe a clean end might be the best we can hope for." The Thief falls silent; as if mulling over that unwelcome possibility, his bleached-bone helm bowed in concentration.

>>33841309
>>33841387

A low sound - A rasp, a cough -

...Something that might almost be a chuckle.

"-You never change, Joker. Not even when things are at their worst." He glances back from his toil - "'When this all ends,' then. And-" There's the shadow of a smile in his words, now. "With Natsumi and Kazuya too, of course."

"It wouldn't be the same without them."

> "You need to meet me later. I've got some gadgets that you might enjoy."

"-It may not be safe to leave."

Before the Thief can elaborate on that alarming statement, the crackle of the system flickers across your HUD - A burst of abrupt meaning.

> PROXY CODE ACCEPTED
> ASSESSING...
> INVALID OPERATION

The Thief exhales, sharply - His breath hissing, a wordless curse as his fingers bunch into a trembling fist-

Sparks fly. Ozone fizzles in the air, as Totenaz stumbles back a step - His free hand clamped to his wrist, as if it pains him. Flecks of smoke rise from his tattered coat, as he growls; An almost-snarl of frustration.

> PANOPTICON CONFIGURATION...INVALID
> SCANNING SIMULATION BODY...
> INCOMPATIBILITY DETECTED
> PROXY ACCESS: ABORTED

[ ] "...It didn't work."
[ ] "Thief, what happened?"
[ ] "-Let me try."
[ ] "'Simulation Body'?"
[ ] "'Panopticon Configuration'?"
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL
>>
>>33841547
Let me try.
What happened.
Simulation body?
Panopticon Configuration?
>>
>>33841547
"Let me try. My body fits every hole.

Am I correct in guessing that the bodies of those girls are "simulation bodies"?"

So, do we have a piece of Hellion equipment that he might like?
We might summon a phase sword or something for him. As a little gift.

Any suggestions?
>>
>>33841547
>[X] "...It didn't work."
>[X] "-Let me try."
>>
> [X] "...It didn't work."

Cradling his arm against his chest, the Thief gives you a Look - You get the feeling he's resisting the urge to say something harsher, before he settles for a rasping:

"-No."

>>33841566
>>33841573
>>33841586

> [X] "-Let me try."

He steps aside. Servoes whirr, as you go to one knee - Reaching out for the contact element, tiny arcs of electricity flickering between your fingers and the wall-

> PROCESSING SYSTEM ACCESS AUTHORITY...
> ...
> ..
> .
> RECOGNIZED

> My body fits every hole.

It seems that may - In fact - be true. A low judder runs through the room, as the adamantium doors shudder in their frames, right on the verge of motion...

> PANOPTICON CONFIGURATION...INVALID
> INVALID OPERATION
> ACCESS: ABORTED

And that's the only message you receive; the simple, bland, somehow quietly infuriating denial.

> [X] "'Simulation Body'?"
> Am I correct in guessing that the bodies of those girls are "simulation bodies"?"

Totenaz grunts - A noncommital sound.

"Quite likely," the Thief admits; his voice slightly begrudging. Apparently, your ease of access has hurt his pride. He regards the seal with a dubious gaze: "-They might be able to open it."

"-Might."

> Panopticon Configuration?

He hesitates.

"'Panopticon'." It's a low, thoughtful echo - Before the Thief glances back over his shoulder, towards the exit. "-There's a 'Panopticon' on the upper floors. There might be teleporter access."

[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL
>>
>>33841663
"There's a place called the "Simulation Nexus".
It might be storing simulation bodies. Which might be of value in this place.

Either that or we go to the Panopticon.
Do you have access to the teleporter?"

I wish Watashi was here.
>>
>>33841663
>"It's worth a try."
>"-Unless you think we can brute force this?"
>>
Wait a moment...
Can we use a phase sword to cut it open?
>>
>>33841758

I think it'd set off a shitload of alarms. We're trying to do this quietly.
>>
>>33841758
Thief would have already cut it apart then. I doubt that the Fatal Abyss is inferior tto he Phase Sword.
>>
(Gentlemen, my apologies: Is there an consensus on a course of action?)
>>
>>33841800
To the Panopticon
>>
>>33841834
I'm unsure if the thief's statement means that he doesn't know about the teleporter next door.
Does he refer to a different type of teleporter access?
>>
>>33841834
>>33841695
>>33841744

> [X] To the Panopticon.
> "It's worth a try - Unless you think we can brute force this?"

The Thief pauses, to consider this - Regarding the gateway with his baleful stare. At last, he shakes his head; Turning, with a sweep of his coat.

"-No," he says, finality to his words.

---------------------------

The teleportation deck - The heart of a four-way intersection, part of a tranverse assembly platform of grey adamantium, the thick plates of the corridor clattering underfoot. The faint *clank* of your armoured boots echoes through the empty passage; At this time of the night, it's no wonder that the place is empty.

The Thief's footfalls make no sound at all.

It's not far to the access point; The menu flickering into existence on your HUD, the holographic filled with alien script that somehow resolves into meaning. When you key:

> ACCESS: PANOPTICON

The rising hum of power sings in your auditory sensors, as the charge builds; Your vision fuzzing over with static, as-

-------------------------

...The world snaps back into focus, discharge sizzling across your armoured limbs, actuators whirring as you wrench yourself upright, through force of will. The Thief makes a low sound, a buzz of distress - His hand at the side of his helm, shaking his head violently, fighting to clear it.

"-Hate this," he rasps, utter antipathy in his voice. "It feels like-"

He stops, mid-sentence. The scale of the chamber around silences him; A vast space, vaulted like a gigantic basilica, bathed in violet light from countless emitters. Consoles spear beams of gold and red up into the violet gloom, alabaster steps leading to grand codifier assemblies, chains of raw data spiralling upwards to join the smoky dome of light.

Underfoot: Gigantic machines, circling streams of light and coherent energy around their spindles and rushing gears.

(Continued)
>>
>>33842101
>"-Hate this," he rasps, utter antipathy in his voice. "It feels like-"
The uniting factor of the Red:
Everyone hates teleportation.
>>
>>33842101

Processing flow, processing data - A background roar muffled by the clear slabs of photo-reactive crystal underfoot, already darkening to opaquecy to give the illusion of solid flooring.

And solid it is. Each smooth, cold slab is at least a meter thick, like clear, dry ice.

It forms a long corridor, a one-way path; Like the grand bridge of a city-sized ship, holographic windows flitting back and forth like moths - Each one filling with alien script, overlaying, comparing, transferring data, interlocking and compressing information into tight holographic spheres that whirl across the room, a visual representation of the ordered chaos.

You can't begin to guess at the purpose of all this machinery, of the hololith hubs, of the throb of power in the gloom; The whirring of cogs and servos and the throb of valves a constant background symphony, the central shaft extending ever-forward, towards the looming shape of the actuality sphere - Like an island in a sea of data, impossibly suspended by some invisible, harnessed force, connected to the outer ring solely by virtue of the long corridor, the meter-thick walls faded to transparency.

It reminds you of Argent Prominence's Reclamation Facility, but on a far, far larger scale - As if the one you've seen before was but a pale shadow, an imitation. It's unlike anything you've ever seen, almost dizzying in its sheer, sprawling scale.

(Continued)
>>
>>33842101
Maybe we should check for security mechanisms
>>
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155 KB JPG
>>33842231

The Thief's voice is low, almost reverent. He raises a hand, lets his fingertips trail against the clear walls; There's a hunger in his gaze, as he peers through the transparent steel, then at the sphere hovering in the midst of virtual light.

"-The heart of the Diadem," he says. "The nerve centre. *Panopticon.*"

>>33842231

> Maybe we should check for security mechanisms.

A wary instinct makes you engage the Argus System - The world around you rendered in fuzzy, caustic shades of red and ochre light. A web of light flickers into existence; Intangible strands, rows of sensor beams and harmonic tripwires, blossoming in mad profusion. Most project diagonally down, from concealed emitters - But others follow the ground, or run perpendicular to the walls, the beams active and live.

The Thief's eyes glow, more crimson than red, now.

"Security web," he says, a warning note to his voice. "We shoul-"

You nod. He glances at you, almost sourly - Noting your complete lack of surprise. Sour...But approving, somehow. You can't help but feel that you've scored a point, somehow.

[ ] "...How do we get through *that*?"
[ ] "That's a lot of beams."
[ ] "What's in there?"
[ ] "-There's no way we're getting through that."
[ ] Free

YOU HAVE CONTROL
>>
>>33842327
>[X] "That's a lot of beams."
>"Maybe I shouldn't have skipped those dance classes."
>[X] "...How do we get through *that*?"
>>
>>33842327
>[ ] "...How do we get through *that*?"
>[ ] "That's a lot of beams."
"Thank god that I can fly."
>>
>>33842327
"Definitely wouldn't want the Smiler's to get their hands on this."
"Have anything up your sleeve for something like this?"
>>
>>33842357
>>33842371
>>33842391

(Gentlemen; My sincerest apologies, but I find that I'm still rather feverish - I'd love to continue, but I think that my writing quality has been affected, and I'll be unable to sustain the same standard at this current rate.

I'll run a follow-up session in a day or two, ideally when I'm more recovered - For now, good night and God bless, and I hope to see you again soon. I find that I need some rest at present.)
>>
>>33842495
Get well OP.
>>
>>33842503

(Again, my apologies. It seems that I'm still shakier than I initially expected.)
>>
>>33842514
Don't worry about it.

Participation seemed to be low, anyway, and I'd wager that no one wants you to drop dead at the keyboard.
>>
>>33842541

(It's unfortunate, but that seems to be a symptom of the late hours. Hopefully, I'll be able to follow up soon.)
>>
>>33842495
Get well soon, OP



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