It is the distant future: the year is 200X.
The great city of Omnilah is the last city that will ever exist. It grew so large it covered the earth and the oceans, and when it could spread no more, it piled on top of itself to fill the sky. It has ten thousand layers, each home to billions upon billions of beings, entire civilisations developing on each strata. The devils climbed up from hell because business was booming, and the angels descended to keep an eye on all this malarkey.
But really, we don't care about most of that right now. We're interested in one layer of that city, specifically. Layer 4510, near the middle.
A woman is lying in the gutter, face down. The layer is on its night cycle, and only the lights leaking through shuttered windows on this quiet city street cast slots of her in light. The distance sounds of the strata can be heard, never stopping even for night - voices, motor vehicles, the hum of electric lines, the occasional gunfire or ominous chanting.
She's wounded, unable to move any more. This currently non-specific woman is, of course, you. That said, you aren't an ordinary woman, but surely your unique traits will be to your advantage in performing your maidly duties.
Choose two.
[] You're a extremely skilled martial artist. With a flash of your fists, they're already dead. Ora ora!
[] You're a cyborg - a hyperalloy combat chassis under a living endoskeleton, flesh reinforced with synth-muscles. You also have a cool mechanical reverb effect for your voice.
[] You're a half-demon. Hell is empty because all the devils are here, and one of them banged your mum. Sadly your wings are too small to be functional, though the same can't be said for your tail.
[] You're a half-angel, which means your dad was into flaming wheels covered with eyes. Cleanliness is meant to be next to godliness, or so they say, so at least you can be covered on both those fronts.
[] You're an escaped experiment. The flesh is mutable, your form changing to your will, and you've hardly eaten anyone at all - so all those agents were quite unnecessarily rude shooting you with chemicals like that, you think.
Along the road comes the sound of footsteps. Luckily for you, it's not the flesh-hounds, or unscrupulous thieves, or a devil out for a wander. This part of the strata is pretty safe - it's a young man and an accompanying servant, out for a night stroll in the air still fresh and clear from the recycs.
Upon seeing you, he stops, then dashes over to your side. He hesitates, before seeing you twitch.
"She's alive!" he says. "Quickly, call the house! Tell Doctor Thermaki to be ready! "
He shakes your shoulder. You gaze up, blearily, into earnest eyes.
"Stay with me," he says urgently. "You have to stay awake. What's your name - tell me your name!"
You open your mouth-
[] - what do you tell him?
-say your name-
-And pass out.
