THURSDAY: 11:44 PM
Black.
That’s all there is at first. Nothing to hear, nothing to see. Just that choking void.
And then—like always—you’re dropped in. Chemical Plant Zone.
It’s strange to think about, how one moment you were alive—walking around, holding a cartridge you never asked for—and the next, you’re here. Wandering through a world that never lets you leave.
For you, it feels like minutes. But by your own count… you’ve been here for weeks.
Eventually, you drag yourself out of the neon maze. Your steps take you to Green Hill.
It should feel comforting. Familiar. But it doesn’t. It never does anymore.
The sky’s the wrong shade. The grass is too sharp. The air tastes like metal. Everything looks off.
You’ve seen others here before—Luther, and so on *But never the one pulling the strings.
Never her.
Until now.
She’s standing in the middle of the field.
''Sarah.'' Or what’s left of her.
Her back is to you, head tilted upward, staring at the sky as if waiting for something. She hasn’t noticed you. Not yet.
Leaving would be smart. Probably the smartest thing you could do.
SNAP.
A branch breaks under your foot. Too loud. Too clumsy.
Her shoulders jolt. Before slumping The quills on her back bristle, shooting out like needles ready to strike—before slowly relaxing again.
Her head tilts, just enough for one eye to catch you in her peripheral.
That’s all it takes. That single, sideways glance.
The first time you’ve seen her since she pulled you in. And the first time she’s seen you since then.
So now, here you are: Caught in her gaze. Nowhere left to run.
…What are you going to do?