BCD

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<<set $currentStab = 50>> <<set $hasCompanion = false>> <<set $bgStyle to "Default">> [[ Begin Your Adventure!|Beginning(Burning City)]]

The wind whispers through a lonely husk of what used to be a bustling city. The sky blocked out by a thick plume of smoke. You see fires still raging on in the distance and yet no voices. Your body is aching, a trickle of blood rolls down from the temples of your head. You are unsure why or how you ended up here, but you know it was for something important. On your left hand, just beneath your wrist, you see a small tattoo: a black dagger. Just below are three letters, etched into your skin, still red, TCA. In the distance is a towering building, with a jagged and unnatural silhouette. At the tip of each spire is a burning flame, motionless and unaffected by the wind. Its presence draws you toward it, you know it has something to do with your past. Which way do you go? [[Toward|North]] [[Away|South]]

You come across a strange building, still standing and almost untouched amidst the destruction around it. The once white and pristine walls now covered in ash, a network of cracks, revealing the concrete underneath. A large LED sign still flashing, barely attached to the side of the building. The letters have long stopped making sense, now just a jumble of random symbols and letters 80C7--8&. Then you hear it: Clank! Clank! Clank! Metallic. Rhythmic. It's too consistent to be the wind or falling rubble. It was something artificial, a generator possibly. But why? ---------------------------------------------------------------- What do you do? [[Enter|Bar]] <<if $hasCompanion == false>> [[Ignore|Village]] <<else>><</if>> <<if $hasCompanion>> [[Back to Village]] <<else>> 🔒 <</if>> [[Look around the building|Survey]]

As you approach the burnt forest near the edge of the city, the air shifts. A cold gust of wind blows past you. Then you hear it. Whispers. Unnatural but strangely melodic. They slowly rise and fall in tempo with gentle intonations mimicking the human breath. Their source, continuously changing, not emerging from a single point. They're not quite words but they sound similar. As you cross into the woods, the city fades behind you, swallowed by the swallowed by a thick layer of trees and a low fog. Your head begins pounding as the whispering grows louder and louder <<if $hasCompanion == false>> [[Ignore|Village]] <<else>><</if>> <<if $hasCompanion>> [[Back to Village]] <<else>> 🔒 <</if>> [[Enter]]

<<set $bgStyle to "Default">> You come across a small settlement near the edge of the city. A handful of people have taken refuge in what remains of an old church. The mosaic that sta above the main entrance now lies scattered across the barren floors. The walls are destroyed, portions caved in, exposing the rebar beneath. And yet, despite the ruin… there is light. Thousands of candles flicker from altars and benches. Their flames filling the dark and dull environment. In the corner of the room you see a strange man. He looks familiar. [[Greet the mysterious man.|Greet Person]] [[Explore around]] [[Pray]]

Driven by curiosity and caution you decide to look around to hopefully find another way in, or perhaps a clue as to what this building used to be. However, the deeper you search the more eerie it seems. No windows, no posters, not a single sign of life — completely and utterly featureless. You complete your loop and find yourself back at the front, no answers, just even more questions. ---------------------------------------------------------------- What do you do? [[Enter|Bar]] <<if $hasCompanion == false>> [[Ignore|Village]] <<else>> <</if>> <<if $hasCompanion>> [[Back to Village]] <<else>> 🔒 <</if>>

<<set $bgStyle to "Bar">> You step through the doorway and you a greeted putrid stench. A thick layer of dust engulfs the room, swirling around half finished drinks and broken stools. You are in a bar, appearing to be frozen time. The decor is unmistakably from the 21st century — a kind of minimalist design that was actually considered stylish back then. Just glass and marble with an absurd amount of open space. At the back of the room, however, stands a large machine. Cables snake from its base as thick plumes of smoke periodically burst out of the exhaust. It's similar to one of those hologram machines, but much more advanced. You decide to investigate. You manage to locate an override button but it requires simultaneous activation from both sides of the machine, clearly a safety mechanism. What do you do next? ---------------------------------------------------------------- [[Explore Around|Explore (Bar)]] <<if $hasCompanion>> <s>[[Turn off Machine]]</s> <<else>> 🔒 <</if>>

You cross the crumbling sanctuary toward him, each step muffled by dust and fractured stone. He stands near the edge of a broken archway, half-lit by candlelight, arms crossed loosely over his chest. His gaze isn’t on you, but on the settlers—watching them like someone trying to solve a riddle without all the pieces. He notices you before you speak, nodding once, slow and measured. “Strange place,” he says, his voice low. “Doesn’t feel like it should still be standing.” You glance around. He’s right. The roof’s half-collapsed, the walls riddled with holes, yet something about the church feels… preserved. Like it exists outside the rules of the world you’ve seen so far. “Do you think they built it like this?” you ask. William shakes his head. “No. But people are stubborn. Maybe they needed this. Needed something.” He tilts his head toward the group clustered near the altar. “They look at you like they don’t know whether to trust you. Or run.” You don’t answer. You’re not sure either. William shifts slightly and lowers his voice. “If we’re resting here, we should take turns keeping watch. I don’t trust that quiet.” You nod, even if you’re not sure what the answer means anymore. [[North|North]] [[South|South]]

In your curiosity you deside to explore around. Your boots crunch over shattered mosaic tiles, their images too fragmented to decipher. In a side chamber, you find rusted candleholders, a pile of forgotten rosaries, and a tattered tapestry, half-eaten by mold. And then you see something. A small glint emerging from beneath a fallen beam. You crouch, clearing away the debris, revealing a metal plaque, bolted into the floor. “To those who stood when the world fell silent.” It was a rebel inscription. You know it the moment your eyes saw the shape of the carving: A Black Dagger. This wasn’t just a place of faith. It was a rebel command post. [[Greet Person]] [[Pray]]

You move past the bar counter as your finger gently brush across the tabletop. The dust smears beneath your fingers revealing a beautiful marble surface. As you continue on through the room you stumble over an exposed wire. An old jukebox crackles to life. "fL--y me t-t-to the moon a-and let me play amongst the sta-ars. L-L-L-Let me see what spring is like on Jupyter and Mars" The rooms fades just for a bit. You're no longer standing in the ruins. You're somewhere warm. A drink in hand as this exact song plays in the background. You remembered what it was like to be happy, to have fun. It was a good time. But soon you snap back to reality, back in the bar. The Jukebox flickers once more before dying out. ---------------------------------------------------------------- <<if $hasCompanion>> <s>[[Turn off Machine]]</s> <<else>> 🔒 <</if>> [[Leave|Village]] <<set $currentStab += 10>> <<run Macro.get('flash').handler.call({ args: [$currentStab], payload: null, error: function () {} })>> <<run Macro.get('flash').handler.call({ args: ["<img src='https://cdn1.iconfinder.com/data/icons/basic-ui-elements-coloricon/21/11-512.png' width='25'>", "top-right"], payload: null, error: function () {} })>> <<run Macro.get('flash').handler.call({ args: ["Stability", "top-left"], payload: null, error: function () {} })>>

You and William approach the machine, each standing on one side. In one swift motion the two of you shut off the device. The machine lets out a painful screech, before sputtering and dying out. The bar around you begins to shake. The stools collapse in on themselves as lamps begin to melt into streaks of light. Then everything stops. You are no longer in a bar, you are standing in the centre of a large concrete room. The walls are scorched with burn marks and the floor is littered with pieces of broken devices, ammunition, and most horrifyingly .... bodies. Then the truth hits you. You see yourself on a platform high above everyone else. Around you, hundreds of rebels yelled in unison, chanting a name. Your name. But something went wrong You see fire raining down. Screams filled the room as you witnessed your men falling one by one. You gave the order. You were betrayed. Or… maybe you were the betrayal. You snap back to reality, now on your knees tears rolling down your face. But you were not a victim. Somewhere deep down, a part of you remembers that you weren't entirely sorry. <<set $currentStab -= 20>> <<run Macro.get('flash').handler.call({ args: [$currentStab], payload: null, error: function () {} })>> <<run Macro.get('flash').handler.call({ args: ["<img src='https://cdn1.iconfinder.com/data/icons/basic-ui-elements-coloricon/21/11-512.png' width='25'>", "top-right"], payload: null, error: function () {} })>> <<run Macro.get('flash').handler.call({ args: ["Stability", "top-left"], payload: null, error: function () {} })>> [[Click to Continue|Secret Room]]

You take a step forward and the forest reacts. The trees begin rapidly shifting as paths that seemed clear mere seconds ago vanish into dense foliage. The whispers return, even louder now. The forest is alive. And it does not want you here. But you must enter. You can feel it pulling at you. Drawing you in. [[Brute Force]] [[Burn a Path]] [[Follow Companion]]

The doors, once ajar, are now shut tight. A large metal chained wrapped firmly around the handles and fastened with a rusted lock. The soft candlelight you remembered flickering behind the cracked stained glass is gone. They seemed to have settled in for the night. [[South]] [[North]]

You make your way to the front of the ruined chapel, where the altar stands. You kneel slowly, unsure if you're honoring tradition or memory. The flame of the central candle trembles as you lower your head. You don’t speak aloud, but your mind races. You ask nothing. You confess nothing. Because you know nothing. But despite this, it brings a sense of peace. You fell relaxed. [[Explore around]] [[Greet Person]]

You stand, unsteady but recovering. You've been kneeling on the cold barren floors for a while now, the sky noticeably darker. You realize that William is no longer by your side, as you so call out. "William!" A muffled voice emerges from a room a couple metres away. "Here!" You follow him and find youself in a new room. Bookshelves towering from the walls, whiteboards filled with notes, and in the very centre, a long table covered in half burnt documents. William is standing at the far end, eyes wide. “I think this was where they planned everything.” You step in. Three things immediately catch your eye. 1. The Gun On the table lies a old military-grade pistol. It's outdated but still used by some people. You remember seeing a few back at the church. Even though it's weak, it makes up for it in reliability. 2. The Photo Lying on the centre table is an old photograph. You can't quite make out what the image is but you see a faint green. 3. The Train At the rear of the room, a pair of steel double doors sit partially open. Behind them is a a decaying subway station, but not one the of the new ones. On the track was an old train from the early 2000s—dusty, dented, but somehow… intact. [[Gun]] [[Pick up the photo]] [[Train]]

The forest spits you out. One moment you're surrounded by whispering trees and pulsing memory, the next you’re standing at the edge of a clearing. The path behind has already closed twisting shut as branches filled the path you just came out of. And ahead, rising from the earth like a monolith, is the black building. It looms against the horizon, all sharp angles and shadowed spires, as if the world grew tired of pretending and built a place from nightmares instead. The walls are slick and seamless, untouched by time or weather. No lights. No sounds. Yet it hums beneath your skin, thrumming with something too familiar to ignore. You’ve been here before. You feel it in your bones, in the scar beneath your wrist. This was your creation. Or your undoing. William approaches slowly behind you, his steps tentative. “This is it, isn’t it?” You don’t answer. You already know. [[Enter(Black Tower)]] [[Leave the Past]]

The doors open without sound. Not a creak, utterly silent. Just a widening void that beckons you forward like the mouth of something ancient and sentient. The moment you step inside, the air changes. The black stone walls shimmer faintly with movement.The building is alive. Your heartbeat accelerates, syncing with something deeper. Older. You see yourself standing over a table, outlining rebel assaults with precision. You see towns burned, sacrifices calculated. A map marked in red, a smile too cold for mercy. You weren’t just a leader. You were feared. The dagger at your side hums in recognition. The tattoo on your wrist—TCA—glows faintly, like it’s been waiting for this. At the end of the hall, a door was a large chamber. And there, William waits. He turns as you enter“I figured it out,” he says, quietly. “What you were. What you did.” He’s not angry. Not pleading. Just… suprised, dissapointed. The memories flood back to you, now complete: The executions. The betrayals. The rebellion. "The Crimson Accord." TCA "William knows too much. He will never let you return to power. End him, and no one will ever doubt you again." You thought What do you do? [[Kill]] [[Spare|Leave the Past]]

You reach for it, and the moment your fingers touch the metal, your knees weaken under the weight of another memory. You’re in a tunnel, the same pistol in your bloody hand. A group of fellow rebels injured and tired. You were cornered, trapped but you issued the order anyways. A small squad tasked with charging the enemies. You knew it was a death trap but you also knew it would work as a perfect distraction. Just then you see one of your men hesitate. You raise the pistol and fire, no hesitation. You come back to reality and drop the pistol horrified by your own actions. William turns sharply but he doesn’t ask. He saw something in your face. <<set $currentStab -= 5>> <<run Macro.get('flash').handler.call({ args: [$currentStab], payload: null, error: function () {} })>> <<run Macro.get('flash').handler.call({ args: ["<img src='https://cdn1.iconfinder.com/data/icons/basic-ui-elements-coloricon/21/11-512.png' width='25'>", "top-right"], payload: null, error: function () {} })>> <<run Macro.get('flash').handler.call({ args: ["Stability", "top-left"], payload: null, error: function () {} })>> [[Train]]

You’re sitting on the side of an old railcar. In the photo, you’re alone, but you remember the feeling. That moment between missions, where everything was just ... perfect. You gently brush off the dust and quietly tuck the photo into your jacket without a word. [[Gun]] [[Train]]

Its paint is chipped, its windows fogged, but there was not much major damage from the fire. You step closer and run your hand along its frame. You remember why this was such a major part of the rebellion. The reliability and resistance to modern tracking made it a perfect form of transportation. You slowly enter the train cart and you're greeted with a host of buttons, most without any indication as to its use. You find the lever that appears to power the train and you pull it. Astonishingly the engine hums to life. A feeling a relief and familiarity fills you as the sputtering stopped, leaving just the mighty roar of the engine. You call over William and together you leave the building. [[Leave(Bar)]]

You pull out your gun, you aim and fire. Just like before, no hesitation, just sheer rage. You embrace your new power and try to return to your past. You will once again be feared. You know it. It is inevitable.

Ending 2 [[Leave the Past]]

You clench your jaw and draw your weapon. Enough games. You charge at the closest barrier of tangled branches, slashing and striking at the gnarled wood. The trees resist. Destroyed branches are almost instantly replaced. You cut deeper. Push harder. Faster. With a final slash, the forest gives way revealing a narrow pathway in. But it is at a cost. Your arm now covered in scratch marks from the thorny bushes. [[Forest]]

You reach into your pocket and grab a small lighter. The moment the flame sparks to life, the forest screeches. Tangled roots and branches burn away. And the forest fights back. Destroyed branches are continuously replaced, but it is not enough. The path it carves is real… but unstable. Branches continue to cover up the burnt hole left in the forest pathway. You glance back once and see that the forest has already sealed the way behind you. You continue forward and make your way into the forest, unharmed. [[Forest]]

William places a hand on your arm, stopping you before you can act. "Don’t fight it," he says quietly. "Let it see you." He walks calmly into the wall of trees. And the forest parts. Not all at once. Not dramatically. But with slowly and deliberate. The branches unwind like forming a narrow path that leads deep into the forest. You follow him, unsure, but unresisted. As you pass beneath the twisted branches, the whispers soften, no longer hostile, but curious. For now. [[Forest]]

The deeper you move into the forest, the more the world begins to shift. You soon find yourself in a large clearing clearing. At the centre was a single tree stump, burnt beyond recognition. A small sigil engraved on the side of the stump. You remember now. This was the turning point. A village believed to harbor traitors. The cost of allowing them to live was too high. So you gave the signal. And the entire village blown to pieces in an instant The memory hangs there, a painful omage to your past. The forest does not judge. It asks. How do you respond? [[Remorse]] [[Deny]]

Your knees hit the forest floor before you realize they’ve buckled. “I was wrong,” you whisper. The flames in the memory surge higher. Screams louder. “They trusted us. I let fear blind me. I let people burn… not just enemies. Families. Mothers. Children.” The forest bends toward you. Not as punishment. The whisper this time is gentler: “Grief, accepted.” [[Leave(Forest)]]

You glare at the reflection. At the fire. At the judgment in your own eyes. “No. That’s not me.” “I never ordered that. I couldn’t have. Someone else twisted the truth. I was set up.” The fire burns brighter, not hotter. The forest pulls back—slightly. Not in anger. In uncertainty. You feel the weight of the memory remain, unresolved. The forest whispers one word: “Mask.” [[Leave(Forest)]]

You leave the black monolith behind, recognizing it is the past. You embrace your new life, a life without murder or pain. [[Restart|StoryInit]]

<<set $bgStyle to "Default">> The train lurches to a halt, the last of its steam hissing through vents as the doors open. You step onto a broken platform, the rails disappearing into darkness. The sky overhead is thick and gray. And then you see it—the black building. The same spire you saw at the beginning The train creaks behind you. William hops down beside you, eyes fixed forward. “We shouldn’t be here,” he says. You say nothing. Because you remember now. This is where you changed everything. Where society faded. [[Enter(Black Tower)]] [[Leave the Past]]