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The Narrator : You’re on a path in the woods. And at the end of that path is a cabin. And in the basement of that cabin there’s a Princess.
The Narrator : You’re here to slay her. If you don’t, it will be the end of the world.
- (Explore) This is… familiar? Do I know you?
The Narrator : No, you must be mistaken. I haven’t talked to you before, and I’m sure you haven’t met me before either. And this is a mostly normal path in the woods, don’t let yourself get shaken up. No when you still have a princess to kill.
- (Explore) Are you sure? A thought at the back of my mind is telling me that I’ve been here before, but I can’t remember.
The Narrator : I’m sure that’s just the dissonance or something. Now, let’s move on, we can’t dilly dally too long if you want a chance to properly slay the Princess.
- [Silently continue to the cabin]
The Narrator : You make your way up the short path to the cabin. You’ll find the Princess within.
The Narrator : A warning, before you go any further…
The Narrator : She will lie, she will cheat, and she will do everything in her power to stop you from slaying her. Don’t believe a word she says.
Voice of the Hero : We’re not going through with this, right? She’s a princess. We’re supposed to save princesses, not slay them.
The Narrator : Ignore him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
- [Proceed into the cabin]
The Narrator : The interior of the cabin is almost entirely bare. The air is stale and musty, and the floor and walls are painted in a fine layer of dust. The only furniture of note is a plain wooden table. Perched on that table is a pristine blade.
The Narrator : The blade is your implement. You’ll need it if you want to do this right.
- [Enter the basement]
The Narrator : The door to the basement creaks upon, revealing a staircase faintly illuminated by an unseen light in the room below. This is an oppressive place. The air feels heavy and damp, a hint of rot filtering from the ancient wood. If the Princess really lives here, slaying her is probably doing her a favor.
The Narrator : Her voice softly carries up the stairs.
“H-hello? Is someone there?”
Voice of the Hero : It’s hypnotizing. It’s the kind of voice you only have to hear once to remember for the rest of your life.
The Narrator : Don’t let it fool you. It’s all part of manipulation. You’re playing a dangerous game by coming here unarmed.
- ”Hi! I’m… not quite sure why I’m here!”
“Oh… Well, don’t be a stranger, it’s been so long since I last met someone. Maybe you can even help me?”
The Narrator : You walk downstairs and lock eyes with the Princess. There’s a heavy chain around her wrist, binding her to the far wall of the basement.
Voice of the Hero : She’s beautiful. How could someone like this be a threat to anyone?
The Narrator : I am begging you to stay focused. There’s a lot riding on you here.
“Hi! Do you think you can get me out of these chains?”
- This situation feels… entirely too familiar.
The Narrator : I assure you it is not. Do not help her, and don’t let yourself get fooled. Please .
Voice of the Hero : I’m not quite sure what you mean, but if you say so… Either way, freeing her is the right choice.
- ”I’ll see what I can do.” [Examine the chains]
The Narrator : You’re only making this more difficult.
“Thank you, thank you!”
The Narrator : You’re making a huge mistake.
Voice of the Hero : No. You’re doing the right thing.
The Narrator : You walk up to the chains binding the princess to the wall and give them a tug.
The Narrator: They’re large and heavy, far too solid for you to even imagine breaking apart.
“I’m guessing you don’t have the key.”
Voice of the Hero : Maybe it’s somewhere upstairs.
The Narrator : Doubtful. Whoever locked the Princess away down her intended for her to never see the light of day. They wouldn’t have just left the key to her chains in the cabin.
- ”I’m going to go check upstairs. Maybe the key’s still lying around somewhere up there. And if not, maybe I can at least find another way to break you free.”
“Okay. I’ll be here. Good luck.”
The Narrator : You attempt to make your way out of the basement, but the door at the top of the stairs slams shut. You hear the click of a lock sliding into place.
Voice of the Hero: Is someone else here?
- [Return to the bottom of the stairs.]
The Narrator : You make your way to the bottom of the stairs. This would have been so much easier if you would have just taken the blade like you were supposed to.
Voice of the Hero: Easier for whom?
The Narrator : Easier for everyone . Look at the mess you’re in.
“I heard the door slam… They looked you down here too, didn’t they?”
The Narrator : There’s a slight panic rising in the Princess’ voice.
“If I could just get out of these chains I know we could force our way out of this place together.”
The Narrator : She barely hesitates before raising her arm to her mouth, her teeth tearing through her limb with the determination of a trapped wolf.
The Narrator : As she rips her flesh from her bone, a sound comes from behind you. The clang of bouncing metal.
The Narrator : It’s the blade from upstairs. You’re not sure how it made its way down here, but if there’s a time to strike, it’s now.
Voice of the Hero : Or we could use it to free her.
The Narrator : You won’t like what happens if you do that.
- [Save the Princess]
The Narrator : Ugh. Fine.
The Narrator : Against your better judgment, you place the blade against the ragged, self-inflicted wound on the Princess’ arm, just above the unyielding chain binding her to this place.
The Narrator : You cut into her flesh.
The Narrator : The blade is sharp, and it takes little effort to crack through the bone of her arm.
The Narrator : Her limb falls to the ground, and the heavy chain follows suit.
Voice of the Hero : She didn’t as much as utter a sound through the whole ordeal.
The Narrator : No. She didn’t.
The Narrator : She smiles softly as her gaze meets yours, blood from her wounded arm dripping rhythmically to the ground.
Voice of the Hero : How is she even smiling after everything? It’s like she isn’t even bothered by what happened.
“Thank you. Now let’s get out of here.”
- [Approach the locked door]
The Narrator : No. We won’t have any of that. The stakes are too high. You can’t just let her escape into the world. …no. I can’t just let her escape into the world.
The Narrator : As the Princess approaches the bottom stairs, your body steps forward and raises the blade.
Voice of the Hero : Wait… this isn’t fair. You can’t just do that!
The Narrator : Watch me.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
- [Slay the Princess]
- [Slay the Princess]
- [Slay the Princess]
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- [Slay the Princess]
- [Slay the Princess]
- [Slay the Princess]
Staring at her innocent expression, blood still staining her lips, your knife raised in hand…
You can’t stop yourself. You can’t warn her or resist or do anything.
Yet… You still have a choice to make. And as you don’t do anything, as you don’t make a choice, the moment stretches. And stretches. And stretches. And yet you still stand still, not choosing any of the options before you. Any of the horrible choices before you, all the same as the other.
A single moment, stopped in time, at the crossroad of over a dozen paths that all lead to the same place. A choice that is a choice that isn't a choice.
Nothing to be done but to stab your ally, an innocent, a princess… someone who trusted you… through her heart.
No! This isn't how it should be, this isn't how you want it to be! It isn't fair! Nothing is fair in this situation, for either of you! The Narrator forcing your hand, taking the choice out of your hands!
Trapped in this moment, you realise you can still make a choice: see which one blinks first. Will you wait a lifetime, alone, on your own, without making a single movement or choice or even take a breath . Maybe even more than a lifetime? Maybe two, three, ten, twenty. Forever.
Or
Will you stab her, the one who unconditionally trusted you to help her, who is about to be hurt oh so dearly for no reason at all.
Voice of the Hero : It isn't one really, is it? Killing an innocent person who trusted us because someone wants us, needs us to kill her… or waiting an eternity or two, to see if something changes?
Voice of the Hero : I think we already know your choice, don't we?
You do. It isn’t forced on you. You could break the deadlock, not have to suffer through an Eternity of boredom, of nothingness, and kill her. But the correct one is obvious regardless. You stand still, unable to move or twitch or breathe or talk. Your blood doesn't rush, your heart does not beat and your chest does not rise and fall. No heat or cold, nothing to be felt or heard or smelt, the only sight before you the Princess frozen in time, your scaled hand holding a knife raised towards her.
An eternity passes, or maybe it's been five minutes. Who knows? It's hard keeping track of time, yet not even for a moment do you consider breaking the deadlock you find yourself in, to move forward and Slay the Princess.
You couldn't.
No, you could. It would be easy. Just move your arm forward, sink her blade into her foolishly vulnerable chest, and it would be her end. You just won't. Determination, Will, Spite. Something is fueling you, helping you endure the silence and horribleness of not being.
Voice of the Hero : It's been a while, hasn't it? Quite uncomfortable here.
Voice of the Hero : The fact that we already resisted killing her once, that we are resisting killing her tells me that maybe this isn't the only option, that maybe we can find a way to save the both of us. Hopefully.
.
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Voice of the Hero : Hey! I just had a brilliant idea! Let's-let's sing something! It must be better than this oppressive silence, and I think I heard something about the power or magic of music or something like that before!
You jog your mind, searching for something, anything to fill the empty silence, and suddenly something rushes in, information you didn't have before, at the tip of your tongue, but still unrecognisable. It wouldn't be you that sang. Maybe another voice?
- [Requiem of a long ago murdered King of Lust]
- [The harmonious choir of metal and steel]
- [Song of rot and death]
- [Pounding of drums and an inhuman voice]
- [Legend of a voice mimic and an alarm that warns of death]
- [Old man in a cabin enjoying one last card game]
- [Ballad of a foolish Pale King]
- [False Idol of Death and a Lamb]
- [A hopeful Finale, an end to ceaseless suffering]
- [Song of a slightly insane Court Jester]
- Just… don’t
It doesn't take long to make a choice. For some reason the choir of metal and steel draws you closer, and you take it.
- [The harmonious choir of metal and steel]
Voice of the Singer : The good ol’ Mechanicus classic, ey?
The new voice intrudes, sounding proud and smug at tge same time.
Voice of the Singer : Hope I don't disappoint. Wish me luck!
And with the crack of incorporeal, possibly inexistent fingers, music begins playing.
A strange sound at first, like an organ. High and slow, beautiful, begins making its way into your mind, for the music came from yourself.
Another sound accompanying the first, the sound of a great door closing or similar. Something crashing or slamming, perhaps.
An electrical buzz you couldn't understand, nothing to even compare to, yet still in harmony with the soft, echoing song.
Something almost resembling a voice, yet too inhuman to truly belong. Another slam, more buzzing, more slams and more voices.
Close to human, but as artificial as the buzzing in the end.
The song goes on, indescribable to your sense and the life that you know, devoid of technology.
Beautiful nonetheless. Inspired, almost filling you with hope despite the dire situation you find yourself in.
Voice of the Hero : That… That was beautiful. Not something I could have even imagined. I can't even think of how some of those sounds could be made.
Voice of the Hero : Strangely haunting as well. Yes, it also had a haunting quality to it. Did you come up with it yourself?
Voice of the Singer : Ah, don't flatter me! I didn't come up with it, I just found it stranded and played it out. Don't truly know how to explain it. ‘Twas beautiful indeed.
Sadly for you, you are not suddenly freed from the prospect of making a choice, THE choice through the power of music. Of course, you still reject the very idea with your whole being.
Something tells you that it is almost anathema to your very existence to not have a choice. Perhaps that is why you still have a choice, despite not having a choice?
Voice of the Hero : Should… should the other one try to sing another one?
Voice of the Hero : The silence is getting a little oppressive once more. I-I don't like it.
- [Requiem of a long ago murdered King of Lust]
- [Song of rot and death]
- [Pounding of drums and an inhuman voice]
- [Legend of a voice mimic and an alarm that warns of death]
- [Old man in a cabin enjoying one last card game]
- [Ballad of a foolish Pale King]
- [False Idol of Death and a Lamb]
- [A hopeful Finale, an end to ceaseless suffering]
- [Song of a slightly insane Court Jester]
- Just… don’t
A couple of seconds of pondering, and the choice was made.
- [Requiem of a long ago murdered King of Lust]
Voice of the Singer : Hmmm. Yes, I can feel that this will be a good one. A requiem of freedom, last triumph and glory in combat. And an end.
Voice of the Singer : Do you want to hear the last words of the long gone king as well? The words he spoke to his killer as he challenged them?
- No. Only the music matters.
Voice of the Singer : As you wish.
And music started playing, filling your head with sweet and melancholic notes of a violin.
Was it a violin, or something else instead? Soon enough it felt like there were two violins complementing each other, or perhaps a violin and another, unidentifiable instrument of music.
Soon enough, the sound of the two instruments grew longer and longer, getting drawn out until the music stretched and lowered to a stop for a brief respite.
A couple mere moments of silence, and the previously serene music was replaced with something else.
The violin was completely replaced, its soothing melody replaced by the beat of drums and the foreign sound rocking through your mind like a wildfire, beautiful and almost keen to spread itself.
An unfamiliar instrument, perhaps something called…
No, you couldn't imagine what it could be, but the sound of the music inspired you nevertheless. You wanted to move, struggle, fight ! Fight against the hand dealt to you by The Narrator.
Inspiration coursing through your body, you gave it your all, the rhythmic beats of the song, ebbing and flowing as you pushed back against the control beautiful in their complexity, something no lone person could have done.
Changing and changing, a brief moment as a violin joined to mix with the music once more, only enhancing the experience even more, only to be quickly torn away.
Struggle, fight. Inspired as you were by the beats and electronic sounds you couldn't recognise, no progress showed itself, or at least no visible progress.
Maybe you wore Him down, or maybe you did nothing at all. Who knows?
The music continues, and so does your rage unfold as the beautiful yet saddening sounds tugs at your heartstrings in such a beautiful way, the sound of the song unmatched by anything you have heard before, only for it to quickly dwindle down once more.
And with that, the song started to end, the sound quieter and quieter as it ended.
Voice of the Hero : That was… an experience. A good one.
Voices of the Singer : What can I say? I'm good at my job.
Voice of the Hero : Yes… For a moment, I was so inspired I actually thought we might have a chance…
Voice of the Hero : Of course we didn't, it was just music. Beautiful music, but just music nonetheless.
Voice of the Singer : Yeah, yeah. Quit your whining and let him pick another one from my not inconsiderable catalogue of songs.
Voice of the Hero : Sorry, sorry! I'm… just disappointed and sad. That's all.
- [Song of rot and death]
- [Pounding of drums and an inhuman voice]
- [Legend of a voice mimic and an alarm that warns of death]
- [Old man in a cabin enjoying one last card game]
- [Ballad of a foolish Pale King]
- [False Idol of Death and a Lamb]
- [A hopeful Finale, an end to ceaseless suffering]
- [Song of a slightly insane Court Jester]
- Just… don’t
You didn't take more than five seconds before you chose the next song to fill the Void of loneliness and boredom you found yourself in. At least you have some company with you.
- [Old man in a cabin enjoying one last card game]
Voice of the Singer : Aight, that's a good one! Simple, but nice. Let me get to it…
And with that, the gentle strums of a guitar started echoing out throughout your head.
Homely, nice.
…Lonely.
Hit a high note, echo again, rearrange a little and continue with the strumming. Beautiful. Haunting, perhaps?
Pause for a couple moments, then more gentle music continues. It echoes, and fades, and echoes and fades.
Beautiful. It turns louder, it pauses, and the process repeats.
Until it suddenly reaches a crescendo, ending on a much more garbled high note that continues echoing through your head for several seconds as the song fades away.
Voice of the Hero : Beautiful… and lonely. This… doesn’t seem to help our situation, at least not too much…
Voice of the Singer : What did you really expect? Of course it’s lonely, it was what it was. But even if it didn’t feel lonely, it wouldn’t change the situation. It would just feel like we’re lying to ourselves.
Voice of the Hero : You’re right, but… it still feels bad, you know?
Voice of the Singer : Let me grace you with another melody, and soon you’ll be too focused on the good music too much to feel bad.
Voice of the Hero : Ok. Not that we have much else to do but listen to your songs for the rest of eternity.
Voice of the Singer : That’s the spirit!
And so the Voice plays, plays and plays some more. Time passes by, and your eternity is filled with the strumming of a guitar, the beating of drums, voices singing out their stories in beautiful musical detail. But it can’t last forever, and the catalogue of songs known by the Singer isn’t infinite, simply large.
So some songs begin to repeat. A little here, a little there. And then more repeats, and more and more, until everything you hear you have heard once before. Not that you’ll complain, anything is better than the crushing loneliness and oppressive silence of the void.
Only that didn’t last forever.
Your appreciation for the music can’t last forever, nothing can. It starts to get stale, boring. You’ve heard it all before a thousand times, and it simply feels like nothing. Like it’s just another part of your self-inflicted prison at this point.
Yet you do not waver in your resolve. Instead, you decide on a new approach.
After all this time, you feel a little more…
You can’t truly describe it, you simply feel more than before.
And it feels like something is keeping you here, trapping you in place. The Narrator, of course.
So, if something is holding you in place, why don’t you struggle free?
Voice of the Hero : What are you doing?
He asks as you suddenly stop in place, and start struggling. You aren’t sure if you’re doing anything, yet the pain coursing through you tells you that something must be happening.
Voice of the Singer : It seems our friend here got bored enough of my singing that he managed to think up an entirely new way to get out of here simply to stop me from my craft. Truly, an amazing fellow.
You continue struggling, pushing against the pressure you feel across your entire body. Your body creaks under the strain. The pain is excruciating. You push through.
Voice of the Stubborn : You can do it! We can do it!
Push, after push, after push, trying to break the invisible chains holding you down, the unseen strings puppeteering your body like a marionette.
With a sickening lurch, you feel reality reassert itself around you, same time as you hear and feel bones break under pressure, snapping from the strain, your muscles seizing and tearing apart on their own with the sickening sound of tearing flesh, tendons snapping and coming and done. Glass breaking as you feel yourself break further. But you are free.
The Narrator: What have you done ?!
The Narrator : Fine! Let me tell you what you have done! You look down upon yourself, seeing and simultaneously feeling those broken legs of yours, your cracked arms, with bone peeking through the torn skin and flesh. Your spine crushed and broken under the pressure, leaving you immobile and at the mercy of the Princess.
The Narrator : Your torn apart muscle that you would never use again, never in a million years, blood pooling beneath you as you feel your lifeforce leave you through dozens upon dozens of open wounds. You did this to yourself. You only have yourself to blame.
“NO! You-you’re hurt! What happened?! We were about to be free, together! This can’t be happening!”
Voice of the Hero : I’m sorry we couldn’t have a better ending. But at least we had this one. Spared an innocent, even if at the prospect of our lives…
Voice of the Hero : You know? You were right earlier. A lot earlier. This situation does feel familiar somehow.
The Narrator : Oh, shut up! This is the end, for you, and the world!
“Please! Don’t… don’t leave me! I… I don’t want to be alone!”
The Voice of the Hero : I feel sorry for her… I wanted to help more, but it seems this is the best we’ll get.
The Narrator : Her crying and her begging grow quieter and quieter as the world begins to fade away around you, even the pain subsiding.
The Narrator : Everything grows dark, and you die.