A.Journal

Checks

Medium

Let queen bitch have it!

Easy

You suspect your apology will bounce, inert, off the dead walls of her heart.

Medium

That's not a real apology -- it's an insignificant scrawl on a pre-vandalised note.

Medium

Objectively true. She is all but a professional narc.

Trivial

Juvenile, yes. Still makes you feel good.

Easy

A colossal operational fumble. There are about three people in this whole city who know her by her cryptonym, and only one who would leave this message.

Medium

But someday -- maybe very soon -- CASCADE will be 'NEVER 4 EVER'.

Easy

Cryptonym on full display on a public noticeboard. Bravo, operant. Potentially a match-ending 'own goal'.

Easy

Above your head, seagulls wheel and dive.

Medium

The inverse flash of sudden blackness--

Medium

An instant of sheer confusion before the panic can kick in--

Legendary

Get your bearings.

Easy

You have just been attacked by unknown assailants at the bottom of this silo.

Easy

On the floor, belly-down. Diaphragm convulsed by the blow, unable to breathe.

Easy

This is a robbery, not an assassination.

Medium

No one else knows about the disc, how could your attacker be looking for it?

Medium

Hold on. That sound... was that crinkling paper?

Easy

It's the metal stripper. The one who urged you to come down here.

Impossible

Medium

She's getting up. After her.

Medium

A rustle of paper and clanging metal as your attacker flees up the stairs.

Medium

Either she can see in dark, or she's got every inch of the terrain memorised.

Medium

Alright gäng, just breathe. Let's take a moment to gather ourselves.

Medium

Body: uninjured, if somewhat rattled.

Medium

Robbery attempt: foiled.

Medium

Mind: profoundly confused.

Medium

Body: no major injuries, though you've sustained quite a beating.

Medium

Dignity: in tatters.

Medium

Operant status: ready to shuffle your way back into cold storage.

Trivial

There are no casual muggings in an abandoned rocket silo. She came down here looking specifically for you, and for something specific on you.

Easy

You should return to the surface, operant. You have questions that need answering.

Medium

A deranged fan... or a representative.

Trivial

Suddenly it's abundantly obvious who the thief was.

Medium

There are no common muggers at the bottom of abandoned rocket silos. This was targeted.

Challenging

She knew you had it on you, and was looking for one thing only.

Medium

Something slippery and muscular squirms uneasily in your gut.

Challenging

Perhaps an avid Einzeltone collector?

Medium

You have been too public in who you talk to about an artefact that effectively zeroed out a fellow Operant, even if it has been rendered useless.

Medium

She's getting up. After her.

Medium

You are about to discover what happens to people who go silo exploring on their own.

Medium

Putrid sea-food breath, warm on your nape and in your ear.

Medium

The tendrils of a watery, alien intelligence.

Challenging

THE RESILIENCE OF A CREATURE BRED FOR SPACE EXPLORATION.

Medium

That sounded very un-dolphin-like.

Medium

Vacuum-sealed, your airways convulse feebly.

Easy

Breathless. Sightless. Caught off-guard. You're going to die.

Godly

Medium

Right in the fucking mouth.

Medium

Organisms that freeze under stress are organisms that die quick.

Medium

Vacuum-sealed, your airways convulse feebly.