Try Again

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(display: "title")

<center> <img class='title' width="320" height="120" src="img/title.png"/> By Flaterectomy For Ludum Dare 50 <img class="sound" width="27" height="24" src="img/sound.png"/> Please grant audio permission in your browser for sound. You may have to reload or otherwise <a href="http://www.flaterectomy.com/games/Try_Again/audio/Flaterectomy_-_Try_Again_Theme.mp3" target="_blank">download the mp3</a>. [[continue|start]] <center>

{ (set: $handler to "Zach") (set: $club to "Above The Water Bar&Grill") (set: $opponent to "Cadmus") (set: $girl to "Lethe") (set: $anonymous to "Antediluvian") (set: $armsBrand to "Beiers&Hutcherson Arms™") }(display: "chapter_01")

(set: $spawn to "respawn_01")I wake up on the floor of my apartment. The harsh morning sun bleaches the interior of my disheveled unit through half-open blinds. Looks like I didn’t make it to the bed(if: $playedOnce is 1)[... *again.* ](else:)[ again.] Ugh... I feel awful. (if: $playedOnce is 1)[I'm getting some intense Déjà vu right now. ]This city's going to be the death of me. I try to pull myself up, but quickly decide to give it a few more minutes... Wait, don't I have...? I reach into my pocket and pull out a small pill bottle, a single bright orange pill inside. The label reads 'Xanitofyl™ 1000mg', prescribed to someone else entirely. [[take the pill|chapter_01.1a]] [[ride out the pain|chapter_01.1b]]

In an instant I select to call him back. "For real, buddy? How many times did I have to hit you up before you call me back?" $handler yells at me before I can say anything. "Eleven," I (if: $usedPill is 1)[say,](else:)[stammer as a wave of nausea briefly distracts me from my headache,] "And it's barely even past eight o'clock." "Well damn," $handler says, "I thought I made it a nice even dozen." [["Cut to the chase."|chapter_02.1]]

I've been walking four a few hours. (if: $slept is 0 and $usedPill is 0)[Thankfully my headache has muted considerably by this point. ]At this stage I shouldn't be too worried that someone is watching, unless there was a leak at $handler's. But I try to be careful at all times, so I make sure to move between crowded and quiet locations, looping back and scanning for anything out of the ordinary. So far, so good. It's 13:05. I pull up the map to see whether there is direct access from the front to the parking lot, and slow down my walking pace as that is confirmed. At 13:09 I turn onto the parking lot and spot the grey Lotus Corsair parked in the shadow of a billboard, facing away from me. I walk up, noticing it is a modified model: tinted windows as black as can be, perhaps plated and sprayed black even. Over a dozen camera nodes in strategic places, only noticeable because I know where to look for them. The entire outside world displayed all over the interior of the hovercar, I'm sure. Not the kind of vehicle you would expect in this part of the city. My clock flips to 13:10 as I am mere meters away. The trunk pops open at exactly the same time. A single dull grey briefcase sits in the back. (if: $playedOnce is 1)[[[pick up the briefcase|chapter_03.1a]] ](if: $playedOnce is 1)[[["Still a nice ride you got there."|chapter_03.1b]]](else:)[[["Nice ride you got there."|chapter_03.1b]]] {}

Adjusting my route as I go, avoiding busy streets while still making time, I descend towards just a couple of floors above ground level. I loop around several blocks and open areas to make sure no one is after me--no one visible to the naked eye anyway. I do a scan for drones every few minutes, but I only detect security pods running their standard patrols and delivery drones. A notification pops up in the corner of my eyes. I pull it up, $handler's calling. [[accept the call|chapter_04.6a]] [[ignore him, no chatting during a job|chapter_04.6b]] {}

Keeping an eye on the time and my surroundings, I steadily make my way towards the Old Wharf district. The sun moves across the sky, though it barely makes its way down here where the bottom feeders live. It's 15:45. I have just turned onto Coleman Street. I see the building. A gaudy neon sign spelling out $club is currently turned off in the dim light of day this far down in the city. The place looks like a mix between a strip club and a meat packing plant from the outside, and I assume it won't be much different indoors. It's 15:59 as I approach the bouncer standing out front. He does a good job in pretending not to notice me until I get near. "We're closed," he says. My clock strikes 16:00. [["Serpentine."|chapter_05.1a]] [["I have a meeting."|chapter_05.1b]] {}

We enter a large open room with a mezzanine overlooking what was once a dance floor, encircled by podiums for professional dancers, gambling machines lining the walls. In the middle stands a freight container which looks to have been lowered in through the skylight windows above. The girl walks up to a tall, gaunt-looking man with sunken eyes, dressed to the very nines in a shimmery black suit and flanked by two more guards. "Is this him?" he asks. The girl nods and points at the briefcase, "He's the courier all right." "Excellent," the man exclaims, "My name is $opponent, welcome to my house. This is $club, remember to tip your waitress." He winks, before dropping his smug smile. "Uncouple your wristlock," he says sternly. I focus my thoughts, the cable unplugs and before it even retracts into my cuff the goon that had been behind me rips the briefcase away and hands it to $opponent. [["Can I go?"|chapter_06.1a]] [[turn to leave|chapter_06.1b]] {}

"Then sit down and shut up," $opponent says. The girl takes my arm and drags me over to the table with the now empty briefcase on it, setting down her strange modded rifle on its surface, and shoving me down onto one of the folding chairs that surround it. "In case you were wondering what you've been carrying around the city," $opponent says as he makes his way over to the freight container, "This is a mechanical key that is designed for the rather complex and boobytrapped lock on this freight container." He places the device over a red-lit hub that covers the two doors of the container. "If this is the wrong key, or it was messed with, then we're about to die horribly in a phosphorus blaze," he mocks, switching the device on. "Don't worry, I made a *fair* deal with my supplier." I brace as I see sparks flying, but nothing detonates. The key appears to saw through a set of different materials, the small red lights on the lock turning green one by one until the whole system unlocks with a loud clunk and a gust of air escaping. [[await with bated breath|chapter_07.1]]

Before I can even make a choice, the pop-up disappears and I find the connection is already open. "$opponent was correct," the anonymous caller says, "The unconscious woman is very important, and the reason I need your help." "You had better help me in return because I think my time is about to run out," I say. "$girl's rifle is on the table in front of you," he points out, "Normally only she would be able to use it, but I have taken care of that remotely. When they're distracted, pick it up and shoot one of the guards, then aim for the woman on the gurney. Do *not* shoot her. I will do worse to you than $opponent will ever manage, if you do. But convince them you mean business." [[grab the rifle|chapter_08.1a]] [[agree to the plan|chapter_08.1b]]

Moving backwards, pulling the gurney along, the door slams shut. I retreat through the loading dock, noticing a parked hovervan. Trying the door handle it opens up, the keycard lying on the dashboard. I quickly load the gurney in the back, its legs folding up as I push it in. "Sorry lady, I can't really secure you in here very well." Moments later I am pulling out of the parking lot of the $club, $girl's strange rifle resting on the passenger seat. I turn on to Coleman Street, trying to find a balance between speed and keeping the gurney from moving around in the back. A crackle in my mind as the hovervan moves out of range of the $club. "Can you hear me? What happened, are you two okay?" the voice asks, "They figured out what I was doing." "Yeah, we're good," I answer, "I'm on the road, she's in the back. I don't want to stay in this vehicle though, all of this is registered with traffic control." "We can switch, do not worry," he says, and cuts the connection. A new notification pops up. [[accept encrypted data|chapter_09.1]]

A little while later I reach the location that the anonymous caller had sent me. I move up the driveway alongside the warehouse slowly, and turn into the area behind the building, out of sight from the street. A hooded figure gestures at me from just inside the open warehouse gate. I drive in, and they roll down the overhead garage door behind me. "You made good time," he says approaching the driver side door, "It's about time I introduce myself. I am $anonymous." His face is entirely replaced. It's a smooth, shiny black surface with no features other than two blue pinpoints where the eyes would be, glowing deep below the obsidian surface. He takes off his hood, revealing his entire head to be the same black material. Like a mannequin you might see in a clothing store, but somehow... *human.* "I get it. There's few who look like me," he says, no movement of a mouth to be seen, "But we have to move quickly." [[exit of the hovervan|chapter)10.1]]

A lightning strike of sharp pain paralyzes me.... { (set: $stopCycle to 1) (live: 1s)[ (if: $stopCycle is 0)[(transition:"dissolve")[(display: "epilogue_01")](stop:)] (else: )[(set: $stopCycle to it - 1) (transition:"dissolve")[ ]]] }

I pop the lid off the bottle and, after several attempts, I manage swallow the pill.(set: $usedPill to 1) (display: "chapter_01.2")

No, toxic masculinity dictates I must suffer so I actually deserve to feel better once the pain fades away. (display: "chapter_01.2")

{(if: $usedPill is 1)[It doesn't take long for the Xanitofyl to take effect. My splitting headache subsides over the next few minutes and a weird weightlessness comes over me as I stand up.] (else:)[Feeling like shit it is, then; nothing new to me. I take a minute or two to find the motivation and drag myself up off the ground.]} It’s early august and, in keeping with this dying world's traditions, this summer has been even hotter than the one before. I’ve nearly used up my clean water allowance for the month already. {(if: $usedPill is 1)[While the Xanitofyl is making me feel a lot better, ] I feel disgusting. A shower would help a lot. } [[take a shower|chapter_01.3a]] [[no, this whole city reeks anyway|chapter_01.3b]]

(if: $usedPill is 1)[Feeling much better ]I undress and (if: $usedPill is 0)[drearily ] step into the booth. The display immediately begins ticking down the remaining liters of clean water after I turn on the shower. This is glorious(if: $usedPill is 0)[ even with my head feeling like it's about to burst]. I try not to linger. (if: $usedPill is 0)[As bad as I feel, ]Future Me will appreciate having non-toxic water available. I turn off the shower and dry off.(set: $usedShower to 1) (display: "chapter_01.4")

Feel like shit, smell like shit. I'm just giving back what the city throws at me. (display: "chapter_01.4")

I close my eyes and focus, clenching my jaw. A high-pitched whine inside of my skull precedes the Ocucorp™ logo fading into view as the implant starts up. Boot sequence text scrolls in and out of view faster than I can read. I'm so glad I at least managed to disable the ad-riddled *welcome sequence*. Menu symbols rotate into view just short of my peripheral vision. The usual red digits crest the Incoming Messages icon, but the number is higher than what the usual robo-calls ending up in my spam folder would amount to. Shit, eleven missed calls from $handler. [[call back|chapter_02]]

"As usual," $handler says, "A simple courier job. Pick up a briefcase, bring it somewhere else. Standard and *absolute* rules of discretion apply." "How much is it paying?" I ask, knowing what comes next. "Standard rates, nothing fancy," he says, as if I ever get any of the fancy jobs, "Just a quick trek through town. No hovercars to avoid a trail with traffic control... *you* know how it is." "Same old, fair enough," I say, unfortunately experienced in finding out how data trails will get you every time--never again--"Send me the details." "They're on their way," $handler says, "Get it done, don't disappoint me." He cuts the connection. Another notification pops up on the edge of my vision. [[accept encrypted data|chapter_02.2]]

<center> That's two innocent lives saved(if: $givenPill is 1)[ while selflessly choosing to lessen a stranger's suffering]. This city might've been the death of you, but at least they each have a second chance. Thank you for playing. <img class='title' width="320" height="120" src="img/title.png"/> Story, Code, Art and Music by Flaterectomy For Ludum Dare 50 A big thanks to my playtesters, typo-detectives and human thesauruses: Daan, Keith, MisterOizo, Ray and Zel [[try again|restart]] <center>

I watch the little 'file' icon move across my vision, the word 'decrypting' rotating around it. A pop-up informs me that the owner of the package cannot be confirmed, and asks if I am certain that I want to accept the information. I agree to receive the information, thereby waiving my implant's warranty for the millionth time. I really need to get that prompt removed some time. I access the plain-text data. Grey Lotus Corsair. 213 Pendergast Ave. Parking lot at pharmacy. 13:10. Alone. No contact. Understood, easy enough. I wipe the file. [[head on out|chapter_02.4]] (if: $usedPill is 0)[[[catch some Zs|chapter_02.3]] ]

I reach into the trunk and take the briefcase. Stepping back, the trunk closes and the hovercar glides silently into motion, circling the parking lot once as if to assess me, before turning onto the street and disappearing from view. A notification pops up on the edge of my vision. [[accept encrypted data|chapter_03.2]]

"The fuck?" a deep, distorted voice pipes from the vehicle, "This ain't the guy." The rear doors open, two figures stepping out dressed in full tactical guard gear, each holding a compact $armsBrand submachine gun. "Quick, we have to get out of here," the voice says, less deep and distorted now the doors are open, their actual voice and the scrambler combining in panicked harmony. "Hold on," I yell, holding up my hands to show I am unarmed. The two guards take aim in a split second.(if: $playedOnce is 1)[.. *Again?*] (if: $playedOnce is 1)[(link-goto: "<q>Guess I Should've seen this coming.</q>", $spawn) ](else:)[(link-goto: "<q>Wait!</q>", $spawn)]

{ (if: $playedOnce is 0)[(set: $playedOnce to 1)] (if: $usedPill is 1)[(set: $usedPill to 0)] (if: $usedShower is 1)[(set: $usedShower to 0)] (if: $slept is 1)[(set: $slept to 0)] (if: $talkedToHandler is 1)[(set: $talkedToHandler to 0)] (if: $foughtBouncer is 1)[(set: $foughtBouncer to 0)] (if: $givenPill is 1)[(set: $givenPill to 0)] }A lightning strike of sharp pain paralyzes me.... { (set: $stopCycle to 1) (live: 1s)[ (if: $stopCycle is 0)[(transition:"dissolve")[(display: "chapter_01")](stop:)] (else: )[(set: $stopCycle to it - 1) (transition:"dissolve")[ ]]] }

I leave my apartment and touch my thumb to the scanplate on the doorframe, locking it with a quick thought. Walking down the corridor, (if: $slept is 0 and $usedPill is 0)[it seems to spin in front of me. This headache had better pass once I pick up some food on the way. I have plenty of time.](else:)[ even the memory of my headache becomes a blur. I feel a lot better.] I enter the elevator, bustling with other inhabitants of the highrise trying to get down to one of the access levels. (if: $usedShower is 0)[An old lady standing near me pulls a face and holds her nose. A voice from further away calls out: (if: $playedOnce is 1)[Yo, why does it always reek in here, man?](else:)["Yo, what's that stench, man?"]] The elevator descends, picking up more people on the way down. It takes about ten more minutes until we reach the top-most access level, and I exit into the massive foyer. Time to head into the city(if: $playedOnce is 0)[.](else:)[ once again.] [[plan a route|chapter_03]]

I set an alarm in my implant, close my blinds and crash down on my couch, trying to sleep away some of this headache. Two hours later the terrible shrieking of my alarm startles me awake. At least the headache has softened to a dull drone at the base of my skull.(set: $slept to 1) I grab a BioGen™ Nutrient Disc--nice, Blue Neon flavored--from my Chiltek™ Refrigeration Unit to eat on the way. [[better get going|chapter_02.4]]

Once again the familiar little 'file' does its little dance. I accept the information, regardless of pointless warnings from my implant's hapless operating system. As expected, plain-text data. $club (18+). 1067 Coleman Street. Old Wharf district. 16:00. Alone. Passcode: 'Serpentine'. Damn, way out at the docks. Time isn't an issue, if I leave now. But I am not familiar with the territory. I wipe the file. I pull a thin cable from my bracelet and loop it around the briefcase handle, then reattach it to the cuff. I set a passcode through my implant and test the tensile strength of the wire. No one is going to take this briefcase from me unless I want them to, or they bring something sharp. [[better get a move on|chapter_04]]

"Hey buddy," $handler says, "Just checking in. All good?" "What is this, $handler?" I ask, "No calls on the job, unless I call you." "I know, I know," he says, "But I wanted to make sure things were going smoothly. Can you blame a guy?" "You've never done this before," I say. Is there something he's not telling me? Just a pick-up and delivery job, right?" "That's all it is, I am just trying to be more involved in the process. Let me know if you need anything," $handler says, before cutting the connection.(set: $talkedToHandler to 1) [[reassess and run a scan|chapter_04.7]]

I ignore the call, but moments later the notification returns. Seems like Eddie really wants to talk to me, in spite of our agreement that only I contact him while on a job. [[accept the call anyway|chapter_04.6a]] [[mute $handler for an hour|chapter_04.7]]

(if: $talkedToHandler is 1)[Having been distracted by $handler ]I walk over to a nearby On-The-Go™ Kiosk and order a can of Neocoka™ Coffee while I take a moment to run a couple of scans of the surroundings. (if: $usedShower is 1)["Anything else?," the cashier, a disinterested-looking woman in her late sixties, says after handing me the freezing-cold can. "This is all, thanks," I say, as my payment goes through. "OK, you stay safe," she says without having looked at me once.](else:)["Oof, you reek like dead fish," the cashier, a sun-scarred woman in her late sixties, says, waving her hand in front of her face." "You're no bouquet of fresh roses either, lady," I say, as my payment goes through. She gasps. "Get out of here, punk boy!" she calls after me as I resume my way, "I no stink like you, stinky!"] My scans all complete with nothing unusual to report, and traffic appears normal. [[continue down the street|chapter_05]]

(if: $foughtBouncer is 1)["Now was that so hard? ](else:)["]Follow me," he says and (if: $foughtBouncer is 1)[waits for me to get back up. He then](else:)[he] leads me around the building to an open loading dock in the back. Two figures armed with unrecognizable, modded rifles are awaiting us. There is a hoverbike covered in graffiti parked among other vehicles out back of the $club. "Four o'clock's here," the bouncer says before turning around and heading back to his post. (if: $usedShower is 0)["Word to the wise," he says as he passes me, "Take a shower. You smell."] "Hey I know that guy," one of the two figures says. It's her, the tattooed girl from the alley who was robbing that sad sack of shit. "Providence or precaution?" I ask. She throws me a puzzled look that promptly turns into a frown. "Just get in, follow me." [[follow her inside|chapter_05.2]]

"You're looking to get your ass kicked?" he asks stoically, and nods towards my briefcase. "I know who you are meant to be. I need you to confirm that *you* know who you are meant to be." [["Sorry... Serpentine."|chapter_05.1a]] [["Just let me in."|chapter_05.1c]]

The bouncer strikes out with unexpected speed, hitting me in the temple. A shock of lightning distorts my implant's display before it crashes and turns off, my own vision reduced to a pinpoint of light... After a few seconds the high-pitched whine announces the system booting back up again. I find myself lying on the ground. "Last chance, pal," the bouncer says.(set: $foughtBouncer to 1) [["Fuck... Serpentine."|chapter_05.1a]] [["Look at you with the fancy speed mods."|chapter_05.1d]]

"Surprised you got this far in life being this dumb," he says, looking down at me. He stomps his heavy boot down on my head. Everything is muffled and crooked as I am suddenly looking in two different directions. A flash of extreme pain bursts through every fiber of my being. The bouncer moves to stomp a second time. (link-goto: "<q>Stop!</q>", $spawn)

(set: $spawn to "respawn_03")We head into the building, the girl leading ahead while her partner walks behind me. Meat-packing plant seems about right, so far. Ceramic tile floors and walls, easy to clean, though that hasn't been done in a long time. A notification pops up in my peripheral. I pull it up, expecting more nonsense from $handler, but it's someone else, *source unknown.* Shit, anonymous calls are not supposed to get through. (if: $foughtBouncer is 1)[Did that bouncer break something with just a punch?] [[accept the call|chapter_05.3a]] [[ignore it|chapter_05.3b]]

"Hello," a voice says, "You do not know me, but I know you are the courier making a delivery at the $club right now." I focus on not telegraphing that I am on a call to the two goons leading me deeper into the building. "How did you get through my firewall?" I ask. "The building you're in is filled to the brim with scramblers," he replies, "I've had to do a lot more difficult things in order to talk to you right now than pierce your flimsy and outdated firewall." "All right, big shot, what do you want then?" I ask him, not wanting to draw out this talk and risk anyone detecting the signal. "I will let you know," he says, "Just know I also have *your* best interest at heart." And he cuts the connection. What the hell did I get myself into? The girl opens a door at the end of the corridor we've been walking though. [[follow her into the room|chapter_06]] [[turn around|chapter_05.4]]

I try to decline the call but it keeps ringing and the prompt refuses to go away from my display. Wondering whether something in my system froze I try to accept the call to see if it still responds. (display: "chapter_05.3a")

I turn, but the goon behind me simply shakes his head, and shoves me through the doorway. (display: "chapter_06")

"No I'm afraid you won't be leaving just yet, Mr. Courier," $opponent says, placing the briefcase on a table and touching its scanplate with his thumb. He briefly stares away into middle distance, probably running through an advanced passcode algorithm. "I'm really just the delivery guy," I say, hoping to de-escalate whatever it is that's going on, "I know nothing, I say nothing." $opponent opens the briefcase, keeping his eyes on what's inside. "You don't *know*, you don't *say*, but you *see* ... and like most people you are fitted with an implant. That means our little exchange here is *data*." [["I promise you..."|chapter_06.2]]

(set: $spawn to "respawn_02")I set a route on my map, knowing full-well I will deviate from it depending on traffic and whatever else the city will throw at me. Just in case there were people watching right from the get-go, I decide to cut through a block of buildings instead of going around. The map shows a set of alleys snaking between the highrises, and I should make good time while disappearing from any distant eyes at the same time. Slipping between the buildings, navigating my way through and around piles of trash I hear a brief yelp not far ahead. I slow down and quietly approach the corner of the junction where two alleys cross. [[have a look|chapter_04.1]]

"Yes! Yes he is!" $opponent exclaims. "Quite the judge of character you are, retroactively." "Sir?" the girl says, piquing $opponent's interest. "I ran into him earlier today. He's not a rat." The man's face distorts into mock surprise, "What's this, you have my own people vouching for you? Well, well, well... Perhaps it is $handler who is a poor judge of character." [["I just don't want any trouble."|chapter_07]]

"Get away from him," I yell, stepping out into the alleyway. "Who the fuck are you?!" she yells, and lunges towards me. "Get out of here!" I shout at the old man. My panicked exclamation does not break the girl's determination. Before I know it she is on me, hitting me in the sternum with her palm, sending me down to the ground. Her eyes dart around around the alley I came out of. "Are you alone?!" [["It's just me"|chapter_04.3a]] [["There's like five of us"|chapter_04.3b]]

"Just... passing... through..." I say in the most comforting tone I know, "As far as I'm concerned I saw nothing here today," and I carefully circle towards the next alley ahead. The girl's expression softens slightly, changing to a more defensive stance, but the veins on her arms remain and her spiked hands tremble. She says nothing, slowly turning and facing me as I try to bypass the situation. "Sir, please! She'll kill me! Kill me for scraps--I have nothing!" the old man whimpers. "Oh god, please!" "I don't want any part of this," I say gently, "I am just moving from point A to point B and don't plan to remember anything in between." [[slip away|chapter_04.4]]

A short-haired girl covered in face tattoos is holding an old man by the collar, lifting him off the ground. She is wearing a tank top, her unusually muscular arms exposed. The ease with which she is holding him up clearly indicates she has strength mods installed. "I know you've got your stash hidden away around here somewhere, you filthy cockroach," she yells at him and spits in his face. With no effort at all she tosses the man to the ground, her back now turned towards me. "I have places to be, and you don't want to make me late for work, do you?" she asks him, a set of spikes suddenly extending from the knuckles on both her hands. Then the old man notices me looking as he's desperately searching for a way out. "Help me! Sir, please, she will kill me!" The girl turns around in but an instant, her inked face red with fury, thick veins on her muscular arms pumping. [[help the man|chapter_04.2a]] [[none of my business|chapter_04.2b]]

Her expression changes into an amused smirk. "Well that wasn't very smart of you, now was it?" she says, loading up for a punch. Her spiked fist comes forward. (link-goto: "<q>No!</q>", $spawn)

"Haha, that's rich," she says, laughing. "It doesn't matter, your invisible friends can drag your sorry deceased ass out of here." She draws her arm back, then her spiked fist comes forward. (link-goto: "<q>No!</q>", $spawn)

To my surprise the girl's shoulders drop down. With my free hand held up in front of me I back into the next alley, our eyes still locked. I turn to run the moment she is out of view. I hear terrible screams come from behind me as I speed down the narrow passage. Terrible in that they change from fearful to terror before they suddenly stop. "Fuck this chis city, man," I mutter aloud as I hurry on. I emerge from the block of buildings, still good on time. A hoverbike covered in graffiti rests over the sidewalk. I think it's some kind of Harley&Kawasaki™ hiding under all that paint. As I catch my breath I hear footsteps echoing out of the alleyway behind me. Putting two and two together I quickly get out of view. [[get back on track|chapter_04.5]]

The goon is still standing behind me, blocking my way and shaking his head. I turn back to $opponent. (display: "chapter_06.1a")

"A promise is just a declaration of misguided intentions and those all lead to hell, my (if: $usedShower is 0)[foul-smelling ]friend," he says, lifting a handheld mechanical device from the foam interior or the briefcase. The device turns on with a click, and it lights up, accompanied by a cacophony of differently-pitched whirring sounds. He turns to me and continues, "Now I'm sure you don't *want* to hear this, but I paid our common acquaintance $handler a good sum of money in order to get me a courier who is good enough to not be followed, yet expendable." [["That piece of shit!"|chapter_06.3]]

$opponent steps back and his two guards move to open the doors of the container. As they do, light comes spilling out. Inside it looks like a miniature medical facility. In the middle, a young woman strapped to a gurney, seemingly comatose. "Obviously, you don't need to know *everything*, but rest assured that she is important," $opponent says. And speaking of the important women in my life," he says, turning to the tattooed girl standing near me. "$girl, you represent a significant investment on my part with all those fancy mods. I have put a lot of trust in you, and I respect your opinion... when you're not letting those *spicy* emotions of yours cloud your judgment." The girl, $girl, tenses up. "I have no further use for this courier," he continues, "If you have a case to make on his part, then do so now." $girl looks down at me, clearly conflicted. [[puppy dog eyes|chapter_07.2]] [[stare blankly|chapter_07.2]]

"He could've gotten in the way earlier today," she says, matter-of-factly, "He didn't." $opponent's expression turns gravely unamused, "That's it? This sad lightweight whelp took one look at you and thought better, and that's all it takes to gain your trust?" He sighs deeply, rubbing his temples, "My dear, do you have any idea how intimidating you look, stacked with gear and constantly drip-fed adrenals? Thus far we have merely determined he has half a brain." $opponent turns to me. "Remember what I said about promises and intentions? So far, $girl's naive notions are still sending you on a path to hell," he says. Another call notification flashes up in the corner of my eye. [[accept the call|chapter_08]] [[not now|chapter_08]]

I reach for the weapon in front of me. "Not yet, you fool!" the anonymous caller exclaims. $opponent screams a warning. "Wait, he can't-" $girl yells. The guards have already taken aim. (link-goto: "it's too late", $spawn)

"Keep your wits about you," the anonymous caller says, "And get ready to improvise." $opponent has been observing me. "I see you're trying to think of a way to talk yourself out of this, and are coming up empty. I am frankly starting to lose interest in all of this, given that I have a shipment to attend to," he says, gesturing to the girl on the gurney behind him. "$girl," he says, turning to her, "I think it would be good for your education if you were to do the honors and remove our friend here from this mortal coil." Suddenly the row of powered-down gambling machines on the far wall springs into life, a multitude of coloured lights blinking on and off, holographic effects projected all over the open chamber and a cacophony of different jackpot celebrations blaring at full volume. [[grab the rifle|chapter_08.2a]] [[sit tight|chapter_08.2b]]

As everyone has turned to the source of the disturbance I seize $girl's strange rifle off the table. She, being nearest to me, turns and looks at me in shock. The rifle has more kickback than I anticipated, firing a single round at one of $opponent's guards. Half of his torso vaporizes, sending his left arm spilling to the ground as his legs, in a final death-spasm, try to find purchase before he crumples into a bloody pile. The gambling machines fall silent once again. I can't linger, and aim at the woman strapped to the gurney, "NO ONE DO ANYTHING OR SHE GETS IT!" "How?!" $girl shouts in panic. "Settle down!" $opponent exclaims, calmly raising his arms to draw the attention of the remaining goons. They lower their weapons. "Our guest here has decided to surprise us with abilities not befitting an *expendable courier*," he says, those last two words more sardonic than anything I have ever heard said aloud, "I might have to have a serious *talk* with $handler." Slowly and carefully I circle towards the gurney. [["Drop your weapons!"|chapter_08.3]]

"What's going on here?!" $opponent yells, "I've had enough of this nonsense. Turn that racket off!" He turns back to me and draws some kind of antique silver pistol from behind his back and aims it towards me, "An end to this charade, then." (link-goto: "grab the rifle", $spawn)

"Do as our friend says," $opponent orders, "If any harm befalls our shipment, there will be hell to pay." I rest the barrel on the woman's chest, grabbing the rail of the gurney with my other hand. I pull the gurney into motion and move back to the corridor I came in through. "I am going to leave and if one of you comes through this door while I am still in there, both you and the comatose lady get vaporized." "Go on, leave. You've defied the odds, you have two minutes. But I *trust* you to leave the shipment at the loading dock." "Say you will, but don't," the anonymous caller says, "Find a way to take her wi-" The connection drops out. "A group effort then. $handler?" $opponent sneers, "No, he doesn't have the chops to pull off something like this. Whoever they are, you both had better leave the city, because I *will* find you if you don't." [[make a hasty retreat|chapter_09]]

The file gets decrypted and I agree to receive the information despite my implant's objections. I access the plain-text data. 462 Candlelight Drive. Back of abandoned warehouse. I wipe the file. [[plot a course|chapter_09.2]]

Another pop-up. I accept without looking, assuming it's the anonymous caller. "Are you insane?!" $handler yells at me, "Have you just gone and lost your mind?! (if: $talkedToHandler is 0)[First you ignore my calls, and now the](else:)[The] client informs me that you drove off with their shipment, and I'm even getting shit from other contacts!" "$handler, you absolute sack of rat's piss," I bite back, "You fucking sold me out. *Expendable?!*" "I- I have no idea what you think you know, but trust me when I say you don't know *anything*," he blurts back, "You need to return the shipment and get back to me. You're in over your head." My knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. "I'll get back to you all right." [[disconnect|chapter_10]]

I get out of the driver's seat and we open the back of the hovervan, carefully pulling out the gurney. The woman lets out a whimper. "The anesthetic is wearing off now that she's no longer hooked up in the container," $anonymous says. "I'm going to need an explanation soon," I say, "I usually avoid confrontation in my line of work, I don't do this crazy stuff. Hell, I killed a guy!" "I am sympathetic to your predicament, I really am," $anonymous says while he steers the gurney to a nearby toolbench. "If there was another way, I would've taken it. But you appeared on my radar when no one else did." $anonymous opens a drawer on the tool bench, retrieves a swathe of medical equipment and gets to work checking the woman's vitals. She blinks and opens her eyes, "Am I dead?" "All evidence suggests otherwise," $anonymous says. "My head," she stumbles, "I have the worst headache." (if: $usedPill is 0)["I have some Xanitofyl™," I say, looking at $anonymous. He merely shrugs. [[give her the pill|chapter_10.2a]] [[keep the pill for now|chapter_10.2b]] ](else:)[[["I know what that's like."|chapter_10.3]] ]

"Here take this," I say to her, "You'll feel better." (set: $givenPill to 1) She swallows the pill with some difficulty. Pretty soon the strain begins to vanish from her expression. [["What now?"|chapter_10.3]]

I think better of it. "This is basically horse tranquilizer," I say, "She's probably too weak for it." The woman writhes in obvious discomfort. "What's our next move?" I ask. (display: "chapter_10.3")

"Traffic data puts us here," $anonymous says, "So we need to not be here." He gestures towards the back corner. "Look under that sheet over there." I make my way to the large object covered by a tarp of some sort, in turn covered by a thick layer of dust. "What's this?" "Take off the cover and find out." I reach under the edge of the sheet and pull it up, sending a cloud of dust into the air. I look down and see the fender of some ancient automotive relic, resting firmly on the ground. "Damn, tires? An actual car? How old is this thing?" I remove the sheet entirely, revealing some kind of convertible four-seater. "Old enough to not be registered and traceable," $anonymous says, then turns to the girl. "There you go, you're going to feel weak for a while, but you're in good condition." He puts away the medical equipment. "Are you $anonymous?" she asks, "They told me about you." He simply nods. [["Should we torch the hovervan?"|chapter_10.4]]

"We have to find a way to get out!" I exclaim while $anonymous takes the driver's seat and fastens his and the woman's seatbelts. "There was once another garage door on the other side," he answers, "Now covered with plywood. We're going to have to go out that way." I settle in the back, as $anonymous starts the engine and revs it. "Hold on," he warns us. As the car gains traction and shoots forward, a door opens next to the sheet of plywood ahead. $girl walks in, a modified shotgun in hand. "$girl, no!" I yell. She aims for our vehicle, speeding towards her. I duck down. With a massive crack from the shotgun the windshield is blown into tiny pieces, sparkling through a cloud of pink mist and obsidian shards--both of them in a single shot, their mangled and unrecognizable remains slumped in their seats. The car swerves uncontrollably and turns on its side, throwing me out of the rear seat, fuel bursting from a line, sliding hard into the wall. In an instant the wreck catches fire. Goons storm in from behind, opening the garage door. $girl walks towards me, her tattooed face bruised and battered. She looks on the verge of tears. A hovercar pulls into the building, $opponent stepping out the rear seat. His knuckles are equally bruised. "Make good on your mistakes," he calls to $girl. "You tried to run," she says, "Just like before in the alley. I shouldn't have let you go then. I've learned my lesson." She aims the shotgun down at me, resting the barrel on my head. (link-goto: "<q>I'm just a courier.</q>", $spawn)

"You have to find a way to get out," I exclaim. "I'll hold them off!" "There was once another garage door on the other side, now merely covered with plywood. We're going to have to go out that way." I grab the rifle from the hovercar's passenger seat as $anonymous starts the engine and revs it, turning to the woman. "Hold on tight!" As the car gains traction and shoots forward, a door opens next to the sheet of plywood. $girl walks in, a modified shotgun in hand. "$girl, no!" I yell, aiming the rifle and firing quickly. The doorframe explodes next to her, showering her in shrapnel. I missed. She falls to a knee, shielding her face. I try to fire a second time, but the rifle just clicks. Damn, this thing only had two bullets in it. $anonymous floors it and the vehicle bursts through the flimsy wooden boards, taking off out in the street. I barely even notice the notification bordering my vision before quickly disappearing. "Thank you," $anonymous says simply. [["My pleasure, I suppose"|chapter_10.6]]

$anonymous suddenly freezes. "Make sure that $opponent's boys don't get it back?" I elaborate. "This is one of *their* vehicles?!" he exclaims, "Shit! We have to move!" The realization dawns on me. "Christ, you figure they can track it? I'm so sorry!" "No, don't worry," he says, guiding the woman to the automobile, "This was an oversight on my part--you've probably never even stolen a vehicle before. But we have to hurry." The sound of hoverengines comes from outside. Guiding the woman into the passenger seat of the convertible car, $anonymous's shoulders drop, his demeanor defeated, "Damn it all to hell, this can't all have been for nothing." [[get in the car|chapter_10.5a]] [[buy them some time|chapter_10.5b]]

{ (if: $playedOnce is 0)[(set: $playedOnce to 1)]    (if: $talkedToHandler is 1)[(set: $talkedToHandler to 0)] (if: $foughtBouncer is 1)[(set: $foughtBouncer to 0)] (if: $givenPill is 1)[(set: $givenPill to 0)] }A lightning strike of sharp pain paralyzes me.... { (set: $stopCycle to 1) (live: 1s)[ (if: $stopCycle is 0)[(transition:"dissolve")[(display: "summary_01")](stop:)] (else: )[(set: $stopCycle to it - 1) (transition:"dissolve")[ ]]] }

{ (if: $playedOnce is 0)[(set: $playedOnce to 1)]    (if: $talkedToHandler is 1)[(set: $talkedToHandler to 0)] (if: $foughtBouncer is 1)[(set: $foughtBouncer to 0)] (if: $givenPill is 1)[(set: $givenPill to 0)] }A lightning strike of sharp pain paralyzes me.... { (set: $stopCycle to 1) (live: 1s)[ (if: $stopCycle is 0)[(transition:"dissolve")[(display: "summary_02")](stop:)] (else: )[(set: $stopCycle to it - 1) (transition:"dissolve")[ ]]] }

I wake up on the floor of my apartment, feeling awful. (if: $usedPill is 1)[I take 1000mg of Xanitofyl™ to clear my headache](else:)[I drag myself to my feet] and (if: $usedShower is 1)[take a shower.](else:)[opt to save my clean water reserves rather than taking a shower.] Booting up my implant, I find $handler's been trying to reach me. I call him back, and accept a simple courier job. Collect from a hovercar at the parking lot on 213 Pendergast Avenue. I (if: $slept is 1)[take a nap to clear my splitting headache and] find my way out my residential highrise and get going. [[that's how I remember it anyway|chapter_03]]

I wake up on the floor of my apartment, feeling awful. Turns out $handler has been trying to reach me. I call him back, and accept a simple courier job. I pick up a briefcase from the trunk of a grey Lotus Corsair behind a pharmacy on Pendergast Avenue, and am tasked to bring it to a place called $club out in the Old Wharf district. On the way there I encounter a brutish-looking tattooed girl robbing some homeless guy. I somehow manage to avoid a confrontation, but I am sure she killed him. I continued my way. [[that's how I remember it anyway|chapter_05]]

{     }I wake up on the floor of my apartment, feeling awful. I think I take 1000mg of Xanitofyl™ to clear my headache, or maybe I decided not to. A shower? Perhaps. I boot up my implant. $handler has a job for me, as always; it's a never ending cycle. Collect from a hovercar at the parking lot on 213 Pendergast Avenue. I head out there. It's a familiar-looking place. I pick up a briefcase from the trunk of a grey Lotus Corsair, and am tasked to bring it to a place called $club out in the Old Wharf district. I set out to deliver the briefcase, deciding to take a shortcut through some alleyways. Navigating my way through and around piles of trash I hear a brief yelp not far ahead. I slow down and quietly approach the corner of the junction where two alleys cross. [[I remember taking a look|epilogue_02]]

A short-haired girl covered in face tattoos is holding an old man by the collar, lifting him off the ground. She is wearing a tank top, her unusually muscular arms exposed. The ease with which she is holding him up clearly indicates she has strength mods installed. "I know you've got your stash hidden away around here somewhere, you filthy cockroach," she yells at him and spits in his face. With no effort at all she tosses the man to the ground, her back now turned towards me. "I have places to be, and you don't want to make me late for work, do you?" she asks him, a set of spikes suddenly extending from the knuckles on both her hands. Then the old man notices me looking as he's desperately searching for a way out. "Help me! Sir, please, she will kill me!" The girl turns around in but an instant, her inked face red with fury, thick veins on her muscular arms pumping. Her expression turns to one of recognition, "You?!" [[help the man|epilogue_03]]

"Get away from him," I yell, stepping out into the alleyway. "You... you ruined everything!" she yells, and lunges towards me. "Get out of here!" I shout at the old man. My panicked exclamation does not break the girl's determination. Before I know it she is on me, hitting me in the sternum with her palm, sending me down to the ground. Her eyes are laser-focused on me. "Everything I've worked for!" [["Don't go to work today."|epilogue_04]]

(set: $spawn to "respawn_04")The old man drags himself up off the ground and hurries out into the alleyway. $girl doesn't notice or doesn't care. "Make good on your mistakes," I say. She draws her arm back, then her spiked fist comes forward. [["This city's going to be the death of me."|epilogue_05]]

A lightning strike of tranquility washes over me.... { (set: $stopCycle to 1) (live: 1s)[ (if: $stopCycle is 0)[(transition:"dissolve")[(display: "end")](stop:)] (else: )[(set: $stopCycle to it - 1) (transition:"dissolve")[ ]]] }

{ (set: $playedOnce to 0) (set: $usedPill to 0) (set: $usedShower to 0) (set: $slept to 0) (set: $talkedToHandler to 0) (set: $foughtBouncer to 0) (set: $givenPill to 0) }(display: "title")

Goons storm in from behind, opening the garage door. $girl gets back up and walks towards me, her tattooed face bruised and battered--clearly not a result of my missed shot, but something that happened earlier. She looks on the verge of tears. A hovercar pulls into the building, $opponent stepping out the rear seat. His knuckles are equally bruised. "Where are they?" he calls to $girl, "Did you let them escape *again*?! You useless bitch!" I drop the empty rifle. "You didn't try to run this time," she says to me, "Maybe we've both learned our lesson." She aims the shotgun up at $opponent, firing immediately. His face and torso are instantly vaporized and his limp remains slump to the ground." Then the other goons open fire on the both of us. [[deliver me from sin|chapter_11]]