I… wake up? Alone.

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I don’t even know what you’re talking about, mister unknown person. So no, I did not finish any reports; have not even started them.

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Deciding my time—my alien, confusing, Abyss-distorted time—would be better employed to more pressing concerns, I leave this ugly and irate balding red-headed dick of a dude to his ramblings about reports and working hours.

I explore my new surroundings, searching for my companions and a way to escape. In a bathroom, I catch a glimpse of some pretty thing in a mirror; and my reflection is evidently possessed of its own volition, yet the latter is in in all ways identical to mine and, utterly confused while simultaneously experiencing the most crystalline clarity of mind, I talk to myself, telling myself what is needful for myself to hear myself advise myself.

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Understanding my own counsel to be sensible, I redouble my efforts to find a way out of this place. Ere long I discover one: a large double door helpfully topped with a luminous, beckoning ‘Exit’ sign. Alas this way is barred by two guards; and true, true, I could mind-rape them with my Shaper abilities, but I mischievously think about causing some manner of fracas, a distraction or another would see the guards abandon their post awhile.

Now, in a a couple of sentences you guys are possibly going to say to yourselves, “Wait… what?” And honestly, yeah, that would be a fair reaction.

Exploring the facility, I find a nearby place called Lab 14. In it is housed an abyssal creature I cannot see, that is apparently quite the… carrot enthusiast, of all things, for some reason? Flipping through research logs written by scientists, I am given to understand the aforementionned creature is rendered overly flatulent upon ingesting carrots. More: said gazeous by-products are spontaneously combustible. Fiddling with levers and switches, I clog the ventilation system then dump a ridiculous quantity of carrots in the creature’s enclosure. Then, I run—and run like hell.

An explosion shakes the building, attracting guards and scientists alike; and I slip by, unseen, entering this place:

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But where oh where are my girls? My search continues. Anon I stumble upon Cell Block A, and from one such cell this woman hails me:

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Of course I can help, fellow wannabe escapee. And this I do, help. Guys in my brothel’s administration services have taught me a couple of OS-related things, and never has the term ‘jailbreaking’ been more à propos: clicketing-clacketing my fingerway over the keyboard of a nearby console, I unlock the girl’s cell.

At which point she promptly joins me, thanks me, and before leaving me shifts her very form into that of someone else entirely? What the Helen of Troy is going on, here? Still, in return for my helping her, she pointed me towards Cell Block B, conjecturing that if my gal pals are indeed kept in this facility, then there they will be.

I dart; and no sooner have I crossed the threshold into Cell Block B that my mind, unprompted, whispers to me anew:

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Steps further I find my friends and liberate them, to everyone’s mirth. Well, almost everyone:

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Isutyr, I swear… One more disobliging comment like that and the paddle comes out.

Moments later we find for ourselves an exit—a real one, out of the building proper! Guards guard it, as guards are wont to do; but they are rookies and, with charm and cunning mixed equal parts, plus a pinch of authoritative threats for good measure, I get us out by verbally falsifying our identities (nevermind the fact we lot are so evidently dressed like courtesans, and not at all like scientists).

To the teleporter then! But oh no: it is guarded also.

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Ohhh, it’s that girl, the shapeshifter. I wonder if I might be able to convince her to shift into Kaywin, just for a night.

Back to Director Mitty’s facility, he stands in disbelief when we explain the events we endured. I empathise, as I myself understand very little.

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But though it obviously pains him to so much as envision the possibilty, anon he is forced to admit that yes, indeed, a division must have gone rogue. And with advanced Mandate technology at their full disposal, the very thought is cause for much distress.

Finally, I cannot help but wonder why exactly he lets me wander around the Abyss, freely. Given her evident link to the whole affair, her close relation to the Three Moons and Miranda, I would understand if Isutyr—and Isutyr alone—were allowed this freedom. But I, and the other girls?

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