Instincts

The trio goes silent at your return.

Metal shudders and groans beneath your feet, reverberating downwards.

"Hnng."

You return to look out over Portofiro.

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

You face Shelf G once more.

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

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…

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

You return to the wasteland.

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 return to the graffiti wall.

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.

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

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."

"Hello again."

The hoglets are still grunting merrily among the urban detritus.

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."

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.

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.

The tree has fulfilled its task. Now time for you to fulfill yours.

You return to the staircase.

"I really think you'd dig this. You look like the type."

"Back again, Hershel."

He turns his head toward you in slow-motion and barely.

The lump of flesh you extracted from HOLOCENE's head sloshes about in the mysterious red liquid.

"You've come back."

The shrine is eerily still.

"Operant. Something big is happening, isn't it?"

The magic box hums its secret tune. In a dark Novessa sub-basement, your controller answers.

The cleaning tuk-tuk with its soap bubbles and secrets seems almost prestigious now.

The building noticeboard stands beside a communal area, full of ads and scraps of daily lives.