Grey Matter

The automat continues its electronic meditation.

Your finger depresses the yielding material.

A bottle sits in wet surrender among the grime. The label, damp but still holding strong, reads 'Wiśnia Schnapps On-Tour'.

"Nothing for it now, CASCADE -- we await the conclusion."

"No flyers, no pamphlets, no gum!"

The hot tub's wrecked. There are cracks in the fibreglass, old water gone viscous. The filter sounds like a drowning goose.

The trio goes silent at your return.

The door is still bolted shut from the inside.

The tabletop is splattered with the drying blood of your old friend.

The figure in the other sealed, full-body suit gives you a stiff nod.

You face Shelf G once more.

Rotanev's shrine sits undisturbed under its worn wooden awning.

You blink against the cold air. Mountains ascend slowly outside.

You open the Renotel distribution panel once more. After pressing the ON button, you push the Voskol Auto-Negotiator's cord into the…

Among the many sections of the cabinet you find a small stack of papers. The first page is filled with what looks like a set of printed…

You return to the folded pants.

"I'll be off soon so get whatever you need now."

You return to the wasteland.

You return to The Animal Zone.

Water sloshes quietly against the hull of the boat. The door is closed firm.

A low, tilting shelf marked in heavy block letters: 'DESPISED SUBGENRES'.

The monkey is still hiding in the shadows.

You unfold the cipher and remember the instructions extracted from the novel:

The vending machine awaits your selection, yet seems utterly indifferent to it.

The desk is as you left it.

You take out the medical dummy once more.

The metal drawer slides out nearly soundlessly, revealing rows of official-looking folders.

"Back again, CASCADE? Might want to, you know, get the fuck on with it."

The fax machine hums faintly. A single sheet sits in the tray, edges curled like a beckoning finger.

"Please, if you see Karolina. Do let me know."

"Still waiting, CASCADE. Slab's getting cold."

"Shh."

You return to the residents' list.

"Hello again."

You approach your double. A faint line of drool darkens the sheet.

"Loneliest... of towns..."

"I already told you, miss. You can't come through here. Try the other entrance." He waves you off.

The container is still overfull with rubbish.

You return to the collapsing pneumatic system.

He ignores you, transfixed by the woman above.

There's nothing to do here.

"Hello, hero."

An assortment of cargo crates sits in waiting, adorned with faint chalk marks and bright yellow labels.

You return to the desk. Everything is right where you left it, including the pack of Suprema 100s.

The vandalised jukebox is where you left it, looking slightly more dispirited on second visit.

"You're back." She eyes you warily.

You return to the boiler.

He stares straight ahead, trying to ignore PSEUDOPOD. He looks extremely uncomfortable.

The girl is far too preoccupied fiddling with her fishing wire to pay any attention to you.

The man's eyes are closed. He is completely still.