Three history exams this week, which is why I haven't put out an update in a while. Fortunately, I've only got one left, and I have enough time before it to get back to updating this consistently again. Sorry for the delay!
"No reason we can't do both," you mutter, trying to sound as cool and hardboiled as you can to distract yourself from the human being rapidly bleeding to her possible death in front of you. "Mari, go get whatever you need. Owen, you help me search her."
You ask Owen's help for two reasons: First of all, it was his idea, and you want him to feel recognized for it. Secondly, however, you're not really sure you want blood all over your hands, even if you are a RAD JUNIOR SLEUTH. It's just kind of gross and icky. You mostly stand back and SUPERVISE while Owen rifles through her pockets, eventually holding up a handful of ASSORTED TRINKETS.
"Um. Here are the things. The things she was carrying. The things being carried, uh, by her. Her things. ID card, wallet, cellphone, notebook."
You give him a nod, and turn to see Mari re-entering through one of the SIDE DOORS, a small FIRST AID KIT clutched in one hand. She looks like a girl on a mission as she walks confidently over to Dr. Ankara, opening the FIRST AID KIT to pull out DISINFECTANT and BANDAGES, which she applies with unerring precision. You briefly wonder if she already knew the FIRST AID KIT was there.
"Wow, you're, uh, pretty good at that stuff," Owen remarks, flipping through the pages of the NOTEBOOK.
"Yes." Mari's tone of voice is very clear in what she's really saying: don't ask. Owen seems to get the message, rolling his eyes and focusing his attention back on Ankara's possessions.
After a few minutes of tense silence, Mari stands up, hands covered in blood. She seems completely unfazed by it. "She ought to be all right, I reckon. Well, no, not quite all right, but I don't think she's going to die. I'm not sure how long it's going to take her to wake up, but I doubt it'll be too long. She might be a little weak, however. One tends to be, if one has taken a beating."
You're not entirely listening to her, chewing absently on the inside of your cheek as you think. Can you really trust this woman? She said that she was working for the people that trapped you here, which of course raises the much bigger question in your mind, why are you here? It's a big mystery, that's for sure. One bigger than the Case of the Photocopied Test, or the Case of the Bicycle Thief. If you can solve it, it's going to be the biggest mystery that you've ever solved. And that's exactly why you have to solve it.
You are LUCY CALLOWAY, JUNIOR SLEUTH, dammit! You are a SHINING BEACON OF JUSTICE, you are a PARAGON OF VIRTUE and a DANG GOOD DETECTIVE and a GOSH DARNED TO HECK BONA FIDE FLIPPING GENIUS! You're not going to be held down or outsmarted by some stupid SOTERIOLOGY CONSORTIUM - what the heck does that even MEAN, anyway?
You are the light that shines in the dark to lead others down the path of law and goodness and all that is fair and just! You are the fire that burns away crime, like that time you put a paperclip in the toaster to see what would happen and it almost burned away the whole kitchen so you promised never to do it again! You are the pool float that the world clings to when the world is scared of going into the deep end of the pool, with the pool in this metaphor being crime and evil and injustice and unsolved mysteries! You are LUCY CALLOWAY, and you are a JUNIOR SLEUTH!
[+36 ÉLAN]
You realize that you said all of this out loud.
[-1 ÉLAN]
Mari raises an eyebrow and tries to hide a snicker. Owen gives you a standing ovation, a look of such intense seriousness on his face that you know he's making fun of you. Eventually, you can't help it, and you giggle just a little. A few seconds later, the three of you are joined in hysterical laughter before you finally manage to calm yourself down.
"Okay. Heh. Okay, though, while we wait for her to wake up, I'm going to take a look around." Mari and Owen both nod, and you wipe a tear of laughter from the corner of your eye and look back at the room around you. You're pretty sure you could LEAVE EASILY if you wanted to, but while Ankara's still out, you want to DISCOVER ALL OF THIS ROOM'S SECRETS.
[] Write-in commands! [More exploration than escape based, but there's still a puzzle or two to be found here.]
I'd like to apologize to you all if this is at all lacking in quality - I sort of forced myself to get this out to try and get my writing drive back but I am very much still deep in melancholy and constant vacillations between bitter anger and crushing despair over politics. But hey, enough of that, here's your regularly scheduled kids, fun, and science!
The ASSORTED TRINKETS presented to you by Owen are interesting, but you decide to check out her NOTEBOOK first of all. Blood has soaked through the pages, making large segments of it illegible, but you read what you can make out. They seem to be records of appointments, but only two are even slightly legible.
ankara's notebook
KALA (Luna Project)
- We discussed her paranoia and avoidant tendencies.
- She continues to mistrust me. That's fair enough.
- She hates other members of staff, Mr. Stockholm in particular. Fair enough. I don't like him either.
- She reacted well to gifts, food, and kind [illegible]. Demanded [illegible] taken seriously when she [illegible].
- Being allowed to use the relaxation room has helped her out emotionally, I think. She still [illegible] directly interacting with others.
- She's shown a marked increase in disordered thinking - believed to be one of the [illegible] effects of the serum.
- It's possible that a large spike in [illegible] due to stress might [illegible]. Perhaps we go ahead with Geneva's roulette idea?
- I seem to be the only one who [illegible] a damn, but that would be [illegible] inhumane.
- I hope she ends [illegible] alright.
- [illegible] sorry.
MARINETTE (On-Site Resident)
- Not an official meeting, but she asked to talk, and I couldn't say now.
- Worried about her father's mental state.
- Dr. Brighton certainly has been distant recently, I think - not that I'm a good friend of his. Perhaps I'll ask Klaus, if I can stand his presence for more than [illegible] minutes.
- Competely shut down the conversation at any mention of [illegible] her uncle.
- Said everything was fine with her. Wouldn't meet my eye.
- I've seen how co-ordinated she is when working [illegible] her hands. I don't really believe she'd [illegible] down the stairs.
- I'm a trained damn child psychologist, I know [illegible] when I [illegible] and if Dr. Paris tries to [illegible] to drop the subject this time, I'm [illegible] and [illegible] down her [illegible].
There are a wide variety of OVERPRICED HUNKS OF PLASTIC - you've never seen the point of TOYS, not even when you were small. Well. Smaller than you are now. (RUBIK'S CUBES, for the record, as you're fond of INDIGNANTLY TELLING anyone who even suggests the contrary, AREN'T TOYS, they're PUZZLES for ACUMINOUS YOUTHS and NOT CHILDREN. Honest.) Along with these are a number of SOFT PLUSHES, and a rather remarkable WIND-UP TOY ROBOT. Even you have to admit, it's pretty cool.
The water is CLEAN and CRYSTAL CLEAR. At the bottom is a SMALL TREASURE CHEST, like you'd put in an AQUARIUM if you wanted to subject your fish to the HORRORS OF CAPITALISM. A TILE MOSAIC of a GEOCENTRIC SOLAR SYSTEM is at the bottom, although the EARTH has a TILE MISSING.
They all appear to be of the same landscape, but in different seasons. In the LANDSCAPE PAINTING titled SPRING, an idyllic grassy plain stretches out under blue skies. Despite it clearly being day, something is painted, twinkling, in the sky. In the one titled SUMMER, the plain is made to seem somewhat less idyllic by the addition of a large crater, a glow in various colours emanating from the bottom of it. By AUTUMN, however, the crater has been filled with water to create a BEAUTIFUL and SERENE-LOOKING LAKE, and by WINTER a large manor house has been built by the lake, with a slightly incongruously high-tech segment even extending under the surface of the lake. They're very calming, you think to yourself. The kind of thing that old people like to watch on television to the sound of Ode To Joy while a man with a soothing British accent talks over them. You can almost feel yourself yawning already.
[X] Examine her ID CARD (CONFIRM HER IDENTITY and also see if there's any other useful info on there)
[X] Examine her WALLET (Lucy would say JACKPOT if Lucy wasn't a MORALLY OUTSTANDING MEMBER OF SOCIETY who would never STEAL things.
You put down your SHOVEL, FLASHLIGHT, CROWBAR, and GREEN MARKER in order to take a look at ANKARA'S TRINKETS. Of course, normally, rifling through the contents of someone's pockets would be STEALING, and therefore a CRIME, and therefore OPPOSED to your GRAND GOALS of JUSTICE that you pursue as a JUNIOR SLEUTH. However, when you're a JUNIOR SLEUTH and the victim of the pocket-rifling is a PERSON OF SUSPICION, it's not stealing, but CONFISCATION, which is totally within the purview of a JUNIOR SLEUTH. Plus, you're pretty sure there aren't any POLICE in this place to arrest you.
The class machination [DEDUCTION FOR DUMMIES] has been activated!
The NOTEBOOK is soaked with BLOOD, and all the pages are ICKY and STUCK TOGETHER. On the INSIDE COVER, it has a note in it:
Inside Cover said:
Property of Dr. Fatima Ankara. Klaus, this means you can't touch it. Or read it. Don't even think about it.
The MOBILE PHONE is sleek, thin, black, and modern. It seems to be new. It's password-locked, and has no signal. The time display tells you that it is 9:08 PM on JULY THE 21st. You furrow your brow with consternation. It's past your bedtime... but you have a mystery to solve! And you've stayed up past your bedtime before, in order to solve much less important mysteries than this one! This mystery is a dozen mysteries wrapped in enigmas wrapped in confusion wrapped in excessively esoteric astronomical allusions wrapped in... in... in question marks! Okay, that metaphor got away from you. But you think the point still stands.
The ID CARD bears a photograph of Dr. Ankara looking at the camera with a serious expression, as well as her full name, age, and a logo bearing the letters GSC. It gives her speciality as child psychology, as well as her date and place of birth. A bar at the top of it reads TIER 1 GSC SECURITY CLEARANCE and another bar tells you that the bearer of this card is entitled to a 30% DISCOUNT ON CAFETERIA food at ALL GSC FACILITIES. You feel like this is the sort of thing that might COME IN HANDY at some point.
Her WALLET is full of MONEY, which you guess you were kind of expecting. It also contains a DRIVER'S LICENCE, a CREDIT CARD, and a few PHOTOGRAPHS. It occurs to you that if you wanted, you could use this WALLET to store smaller objects inside - however, not having any KNOWLEDGE OR AWARENESS OF MECHANICAL ABSTRACTIONS, you don't really see the relevance of this information to anything at all. You're tempted to take a few dollars to buy CANDY with at some point, if you find a candy store. You know. For investigative purposes. But you decide against it.
You sit yourself down on the COUCH and turn on the GAMES CONSOLE. You raise a QUIZZICAL EYEBROW when you notice that the HIGH SCORE on the game currently in the console is attributed to 'KLAUS'. Although you don't want to spend TOO LONG on playing VIDEOGAMES when you have a CASE TO SOLVE, you've always had a fondness for PUZZLE GAMES, and after NOTICING ONE you let yourself get drawn quite into it. After finishing a few levels, you decide it's been long enough, but you do feel a little better. And suddenly struck with the urge to wear a tall hat. [+10 ÉLAN!]
[X] Examine the EXCEEDINGLY SOFT AND COMFORTABLE LARGE BED
-[X] Thoroughly. How does it compare to the CARPET in the security room, on a COMFINESS SCALE?
You steel yourself. You know that sometimes, difficult things have to be done in the name of justice! Sometimes, the things that a JUNIOR SLEUTH must do in the pursuit of answers are unspeakable, terrible, and horrifying to anyone not deeply trained in the art of dectective...ing. Detecting. Whatever. Sometimes, a sleuth must do something so terrible that they sacrifice a part of themselves to it, forever losing something of their very being for the sake of a case.
Fortunately, this is not one of those decisions. This is one of those parts of being a JUNIOR SLEUTH that is REALLY GREAT and has BASICALLY NO DOWNSIDES. With a searching eye and a detective's thoroughness, you very responsibly climb into the LARGE BED and rest your head on a SOFT PILLOW. For the sake of the case, of course. You quickly come to the conclusion that this bed is REALLY COMFY AND SOFT - a real marvel of deductive reasoning! You're tempted to prolong your investigation in order to truly leave no stone unturned, as a true JUNIOR SLEUTH would, but you suspect you might end up falling asleep and so reluctantly climb out.
With your back to the entrance, there are THREE DOORS visible in this room - one, directly opposite you, is the one that the BLOOD TRAIL leads to, and the one that Dr. Ankara entered through. Of the other two, the one on the LEFT seems to lead to some sort of OFFICE, while the one on the RIGHT seems to lead to some sort of MEDICAL ROOM. You're not sure you want to open the door Ankara came in through right now.
Politics continues to drag my mood down right into the gutter, but one must persevere. Apology for the slow rate of updates, I hope there isn't any drop in quality as a result of my dismal mood.
You QUIETLY WHISPER 'Arr!' so as not to be heard by Owen and Mari as you stick your arm into the POND and barely manage to pull out the TREASURE CHEST. Unfortunately, the dang thing is locked!
[X] Try Ankara's birthday as the password to her phone. It's worth a shot, right? Though it would be a startlingly poor choice of security on her part.
Although trying the suspect's birthday as their password served you well in the Case of the Third-Grade Homework Cartel, you feel like Ankara might have been more careful about her security than Joey Bliggs was - and it turns out that you're right. You almost feel like the 'INCORRECT PASSWORD' screen is judging you.
It's a functional-looking place, that looks like most of the furniture was purchased at IKEA. A DESK dominates the front of the room, with a CLOCK, a SAFE, and a WATER-FILLED GLASS SPHERE resting on it, alongside some STATIONERY. In the back of the room is a FILING CABINET.
The PHOTOGRAPHS are mostly of DR. ANKARA. One features a CONSIDERABLY YOUNGER version of her smiling with a DIPLOMA in what appears to be a GRADUATION CEREMONY. Another one, a slightly older version of herself smiling with TWO OLDER PEOPLE who look like they might be HER PARENTS, and finally a photograph of herself looking much as she does now, minus the BLOOD and LABCOAT, in front of a vaguely Middle Eastern-looking city skyline. They're all VERY HIGH-QUALITY.
It's quite clearly MECHANICAL. Winding it up causes it to WALK AROUND IN CIRCLES. It's quite firmly held together on the back by a METAL PANEL with SCREWS. You think it's pretty dumb, but on the other hand, the arms light up, and it makes a pew pew sound! Who can say no to pew pew?
It's white, clean, and clinical-looking, with the characteristic smell of disinfectant. In the back of the room, FROST is forming on the walls, and the chill making its way across suggests that it's a WALK-IN FREEZER, which would explain the LARGE BAGS OF BLOOD dangling from the ceiling. A FOLDER sits on top of a STRANGE MACHINE on the side of the room nearest the door, alongside a SMALL HOOK on the wall where the FIRST AID KIT presumably used to hang.
"Uh. Yeah. She was hurt. Bleeding all over the place. Bleeding... blood. Obviously. She was in a big hurry. Going very fast for someone with, you know, blood, on the, uh, on the wrong side of her body. That side being. The outside. Where blood is, um. Not really meant to be."
They are soft and cuddly. One of them in particular, a VERY SOFT CAT, seems especially endearing to you. You get the feeling that carrying this little guy around with you, if you chose to do so, would probably DO WONDERS for your MENTAL STATE.
You think a few FRIVOLOUSLY SILLY AND IRRELEVANT THOUGHTS, and you're not really sure why. For some reason, you feel that someone, somewhere, is laughing at you. [ADVANCED TALLY UNLOCKED : FRIVOLOUS SILLINESS METER!]
Ah, yes, I love anxiety and the way it just [clenches fist] prevents you from doing anything. Fortunately, I'm feeling a bit better - if this update is lacking in quality, I offer my most sincere apologies (which I offer anyway simply due to how late it is). I hope you all forgive me, as I eventually wrote this between the hours of seven and nine AM. At the very least, I hope it's better than nothing - I have no intention of letting Questionably Soteriological die.
Looking around to make sure that Mari and Owen don't see you, you VERY PROFESSIONALLY confiscate the VERY SOFT CAT. D'aww, just look at him! You feel better already!
[EQUIPPED: VERY SOFT CAT: +25 ÉLAN]
"Must I?" she asks, rolling her eyes and sighing exasperatedly like a beleaguered office worker being told to please do that paperwork again, and copy it properly into Excel this time, and if they could process this box of files by Monday that would be great.
"Yes. Yes you must."
"... Well, there's no need to be so bloody bossy about it, is there, Calloway?" Despite her protests, she does walk into the MEDICAL ROOM and give the machine a thorough examination. You almost find yourself being a little JEALOUS of how good she is with machines. If only you hadn't always fallen asleep when How It's Made was on on television! Damn that narrator's soothing voice! You're shaking a melodramatic fist in mock rage when you notice Mari is looking at you and hurriedly pretend that you were just inspecting your first.
"Yes. I still have all my fingers, very good. Oh, Mari, did you finish looking at that machine?" Perfect. You're completely and utterly certain that she's bought the fist-examining ruse hook, line, and sinker.
She raises a single eyebrow, and looks at you for just long enough to make you feel embarrassed before she replies. "Yes, Calloway, I did. It's quite advanced, I'm really better with mechanical things, but from what I can tell it analyzes blood samples. I was going to prick my finger and try my own blood, but I supposed that it would probably be a good idea to wait for you. You are the detective and all, Calloway." You can't tell whether you should feel insulted or praised, and so simply give a noncommittal nod.
It's an OLD-FASHIONED WIND-UP ANALOG CLOCK, but unfortunately it SEEMS TO HAVE STOPPED. Well, at least it's right twice a day! Which means that if you just wait half a day - wait. No. That's silly. You throw that idea into the IDEAS GUTTER, which is the IMAGINARY PLACE where you throw all of your WORST and SILLIEST IDEAS.
The DANG THING seems to be LOCKED! What is it with the people here and LOCKING THINGS, you grumble. You bet they'd put a lock on their OWN GRANDMOTHERS. You quickly move on to another part of your investigation so that you don't feel EMBARRASSED by HOW LITTLE SENSE that metaphor made.
The INCORRECT PASSWORD SCREEN actually grows a pair of lips and vocal cords so that it can LAUGH AT YOU. Well. That doesn't ACTUALLY HAPPEN, but you FEEL LIKE IT DOES.
As well as MORE SERIOUS STATIONERY such as PENS and LINED PAPER, there are also a NUMBER OF CRAYONS, including a SMALL PACK OF RED CRAYONS bearing a POST-IT NOTE that reads 'For Kala'. Some of the pieces of LINED PAPER have DRAWINGS on them.
Owen frowns, seemingly deep in thought. It looks like he's considering this question with the utmost seriousness. Then, with complete and utter sincerity, he delivers his answer: "Thursday. It feels like a Thursday. Things always go wrong on Thursdays. I could never get the hang of Thursdays."
After shaking your head disapprovingly at Owen, you go over to your other, MORE SENSIBLE, if MORE SNOBBY, companion, and explain the DISCREPANCY between her account and the DATE ON THE PHONE. She frowns, looking worried.
"I... suppose I must have been out for longer than I thought. Like I told you before, Father was talking to Dr. Paris and Mr. Stockholm, in his office. I was listening, and they were having some great big bloody argument about something to do with me." Her brow furrows further, as if she's struggling to concentrate. "...The very last thing I remember, I thought that they didn't know I was there, and then Mr. Stockholm opened the door, and he was absolutely furious... next thing I know, I woke up in the room you found me in."
You enter the WALK-IN-FREEZER. Wow, is it cold in here! Brrr! You'd almost think that it wasn't at all worth it to enter this freezing-cold area, but now you've finally learned something you've always wanted to know: What it feels like to be a popsicle
Mari puts her ear to the DESK, tapping it with her knuckles. After a few seconds of RIGOROUS EXAMINATION, she grins. "There's a secret panel in that drawer there. If you're able to get it open, I'll be able to access it."
Your blood is all INSIDE YOUR BODY. You're no medical professional, but as far as you're concerned that is the APPROPRIATE PLACE for blood to be. If at all possible, you think that you'd LIKE TO KEEP IT THAT WAY. You suppose, if REALLY NECESSARY for the sake of your INVESTIGATION, you guess you could work something out. Well. You could get Mari to do it, anyway. You're not sure if you could manage to do it yourself. Not that you're SQUEAMISH, or in fact anything less than a HARDBOILED and FEARLESS SLEUTH. You just like having blood INSIDE your veins, is all.
You daren't look too closely into the IDEAS GUTTER! When a JUNIOR SLEUTH gazes into the abyss for too long, the abyss will begin to gaze back at her! Some things are best left forgotten, like the time you put WHIPPED CREAM on a HOT DOG. Those dark days are behind you, now. Never again.
You look down at the puddle of blood. You look at the machine. You look at how lovely and clean your hands are. "Mari?" you call out sheepishly.
"What do you want me to do now because you're too much of a pansy to do it yourself, Calloway?" she replies, with a resigned, weary sigh.
After explaining your trouble, you play ANOTHER FEW LEVELS of that PUZZLE GAME. Although it's very good, you're finding that it's starting to have some issues - it's taking a longer time to respond to your input than it used to. Hopefully that glitch gets fixed! Eventually, you're interrupted from your PUZZLING BLISS by Mari tapping on your shoulder impatiently. You follow her back to the BLOOD ANALYSIS MACHINE. A small SCREEN is displaying a LARGE AMOUNT OF TECHNICAL INFORMATION that you DON'T REALLY UNDERSTAND, along with a MORE SIMPLE MESSAGE.
Blood Analysis said:
NO ASCENSION DETECTED
CONCENTRATION: 0%
ACTIVE AGENT: N/A
Most of the DRAWINGS are in RED CRAYON, and although you wouldn't quite say that they were good from an artistic standpoint, they're certainly evocative. They include among them:
A drawing of a slightly emaciated dark-haired girl, with a ponytail, and the caption 'me'
A portrait sketch that is quite clearly of Dr. Brighton - he looks somewhat more melancholy than he does in his portraits.
A drawing of a woman in a hijab and labcoat and the girl from the first drawing sitting across from each other and talking. They are both smiling. It is captioned 'me and nice woman lady'
A drawing of a tall man with a sack slung over his shoulder, looking in through the window of a sleeping child. It is captioned 'boogieman'
A drawing, apparently from the perspective of someone lying down, of a man with unruly dark hair standing over them and grinning while holding a bonesaw in one hand and a syringe in the other. It is captioned 'scary scary'
A drawing of a man in a suit standing behind a girl in a school uniform. The man's hands are on the girl's shoulders, and the girl looks distinctly uncomfortable. The man has been drawn with no facial features except a smile.
A drawing of an eye. It is captioned 'THE MOON THE MOON THE MOON THE MOON THE MOON THE MOON THE MOON THE MOON THE MOON THE'
You CAREFULLY EXAMINE the GLASS SPHERE, but can't find any way to open it from the outside. Frustrated, you decide to just THROW IT AT THE FLOOR. Take that, inanimate obje- Wait! It didn't even break! It's not even scratched! What the heck! Have you just been played by an inanimate object? This is ridiculous! You didn't spend HOURS AND HOURS watching all those PROCEDURAL CRIME DRAMAS that you had to watch in SECRET because your DAD said you were too young for them to be outsmarted by some STUPID GLASS ORB FULL OF MOISTURE!
You suddenly realize you said that all aloud. Mari raises an eyebrow. You... really need to stop doing that.
[X] Owen: EVERYTHING YOU CAN'T DO I CAN DO BETTER. Right now that applies to either NIMBLENESS or FISTICUFFS. If it applies to FISTICUFFS in particular, that means we've got a solid 30 points of strengthiness to apply to [X] Owen: Unstick this drawer for me, will you please?
"Uh, right. The drawer. Unstuck. Unstuck, is the way that you want the drawer to be. Let me get on that. On unsticking the drawer, not just on the drawer. I don't even know what that would be. Um. I'm just going to. Stop talking. And go do that."
The CLASS MACHINATION [EVERYTHING YOU CAN'T DO I CAN DO BETTER] has activated!
After a GREAT DEAL OF HEAVING, the DRAWER is opened, to reveal... a PURSE. Odd thing to keep on its own in a desk drawer. If you knew anything about MECHANICAL ABSTRACTIONS, you'd know that this PURSE would ADD INVENTORY SLOTS. But you don't, so the thought doesn't even cross your mind.
[X] Ask Mari and Owen whether they are willing to have their blood analyzed. Please? Pretty please, with sugar and some kind of fruit that Mari likes on top?
"Of course," says Mari, in the exact same moment as Owen says "Uh, no." Mari turns to him.
"Come on, don't be a wimp. Calloway knows what she's doing."
"I like having all of my blood! I need it, for, you know, blood-related things, what happen, like, inside my body!"
"It'll only hurt a little."
"I don't want it to hurt at all."
Mari scowls. "I'll punch you if you don't agree to do it, see if I won't." After a few seconds of glaring, Owen holds his hands up in defeat.
"I mean. If you have to. Like, if you really, really have to, so much that doing it is more important than me having all of my blood inside of my veins." He sounds a little reproachful.
You take a BLOOD PACK at random and EMPTY IT INTO THE MACHINE. As well as FAR MORE TECHNICAL INFORMATION that you DON'T REALLY UNDERSTAND, it displays the message:
Blood Analysis said:
ASCENSION POSSIBLE
CONCENTRATION: 0.1%
ACTIVE AGENT: #3
[X] EXAMINE Ankara's GRADUATION PHOTO more closely. Is there any sort of date printed on the DIPLOMA? If so, attempt to use that as a password for her phone.
[X] Dip that STUPID GLASS ORB FULL OF MOISTURE into the fountain, then bring it in to the freezer. Maybe if you freeze it it will be easier to shatter.
You'll show this ORB who's boss! You'll never get beaten by a simple ORB, goddammit! It occurs to you that ORB is a pretty funny word, and you whisper it aloud to yourself a few times and giggle while Mari looks on in confusion. "Orb!" you cheerfully exclaim to her, giggle a little again, and then go to put the glass ball deep in the WALK-IN-FREEZER like the BIG STUPID MARBLE it is. Now, you have to leave the orb for a little while to allow it to reach the temperature you desire and get the right sort of consistency to crack it open.
... That makes you feel like you're on some sort of demented cooking show.
[X] Yeah, it's probably that important. And you need to set a good example for Owen anyway.
- [X] Blood in the machine, one at a time.
[X] ... And then just for kicks, see what happens if you put two of the kids' blood in at the same time. Let's say Mari and yours, why not.
"All right. Fine. Since you really need my blood, I guess it's okay if I just-"
"Get on with it," Mari interrupts, glaring at Owen. "Don't be a bloody wimp."
After some more deliberation, Mari finally bullies Owen into pricking his finger, and then proceeds to prick her own like it's nothing. She then raises an eyebrow at you expectantly. "Well. Go on, then." You don't really want to, but you'd be a hypocrite if you didn't reach out, and.... ow! Ouch! Hecking... frick! Wow! That really hurt! You wave your finger around while whimpering a little. Mari rolls her eyes at you. Eventually, you recover from your GRIEVOUS INJURY, and one by one, feed blood samples into the machine, starting with Owen's.
Blood Analysis said:
ASCENSION IN PROGRESS: MERCURY ASCENDANT
STAGE 0
CONCENTRATION: 1.0%
ACTIVE AGENT: #2
Huh. You try MIXING your BLOOD in different combinations, as sentence you never thought you'd think would apply to your life, but get nothing but MORE TECHNICAL GIBBERISH.
The FILES are grouped into two sections - PAST SUBJECTS and PRESENT SUBJECTS. You decide to peruse the first category to begin with.
Each 'past subject' file has a photograph of a child, along with their name, place of birth, age, and pages upon pages of medical information. A small paragraph on the second page has been written detailing how the children - although they're referred to as 'assets' were obtained, signed by one R. Stockholm. The majority of them, it seems, were homeless children taken from the streets, orphans taken from care homes, or impoverished children taken from their families and declared missing. Another small report has been affixed to the end of each file, detailing the status of the children: ALIVE, DECEASED, or, in a few cases, UNKNOWN, as well as a number of technical terms you don't understand about them having been exposed to serums and chemicals.
Meanwhile, the 'present subject' files - wait. These are all empty. Every single one. The only thing left in this section of the cabinet are a few folders labelled 'Art Therapy - property of Dr. Ankara'. Two files in particular catch your eye - 'Art Therapy with Kala' contains, as you'd suspected, several red crayon sketches similar to the ones you've already seen. 'Art Therapy with Marinette' contains blueprints for various devices. The ones that stand out to you are a flamethrower, a jetpack, and what looks like a futuristic suit of armour meant to encase someone entirely. She's annotated this last one with 'If I wear this nobody can touch me.'
You take a look in the PURSE. It contains pretty ORDINARY THINGS, mostly. Most of it is PRETTY BORING, things like MAKEUP and TISSUES, as well as a SUDOKU PUZZLE that's barely been started - only THREE NUMBERS have been filled in! Shameful!
You stare at it with a very serious expression on your face and stroke an imaginary beard, which is what you imagine professional critics do. After about ten minutes of considering carefully all the aspects of an artistic work - tone, composition, lighting, colour - you write down your critique on the back of the drawing with your GREEN MARKER.
Artistic critique said:
I'm very sorry to say, Mr. Dr. Helsinki, but all in all this work of art simply does not meet any of my standards. This isn't even fit to decorate a hamster's cage, even if the hamster wouldn't probably just eat it if you tried anyway. All in all, with no offence intended, I give it no stars out of ten. Very not good, needs improvement.
You ask Mari to take a look at the CLOCK - she explains that part of the MECHANISM is missing. She thinks that there's something else wrong with it too, but she'd need to find some GEARS to fix it before - oh! Working nimbly, she disassembles the clock and puts it back together with the GEARS. Now repaired, the hands of the CLOCK begin to turn, making the expected ticking noise - but hey, that clicking doesn't sound healthy. Click, click, click, CLICK! After only a minute of operation, one of the hands snaps clean off the face of the CLOCK. This CLOCK HAND is very ornate, though, and the more you look at it, the more you're starting to suspect that this CLOCK HAND isn't a CLOCK HAND AT ALL! It's a KEY!
With a great deal of TAPPING and OTHER MYSTERIOUS HAND ACTIVITY, Mari pulls up a PANEL that you couldn't even tell was THERE! Underneath it is a single PHOTOGRAPH depicting Dr. Ankara at what seems to be a PARTY with her arm around someone else.
> Lucy: How long could it possibly take to solve a sudoku puzzle?
Here it is! There might be mistakes and typos, but I've finally settled into a new year of Education Hell and got control of my emotional state enough that I feel I can once again regularly update this!
You commit the numbers to memory and then, with an air of DETERMINATION, you sit down to work on that SUDOKU PUZZLE. In your humble opinion, nobody should ever leave a puzzle unsolved. SUDOKU PUZZLES have been one of your favourites ever since you found out that the word SUDOKU meant, in fact, a type of NUMBER PUZZLE and not the practice of RITUAL SUICIDE AMONGST SAMURAI, although right now you quietly think that if you ever leave a PERFECTLY GOOD PUZZLE unfinished like whoever owns this SEPPUKU, you will be forced to COMMIT SUDOKU out of shame.
After what feels like a very, very, long time, you finish the puzzle, and look up to see Mari standing over you and tapping her foot. "Oh my God, Calloway. I felt like you were going to keep doing that stupid thing for ever. I felt like we were never going to get back to doing anything productive ever again."
You poke your tongue out at her and promise that from now on, you will complete puzzles in an orderly and punctual matter. This would probably have been conveyed better if you hadn't still had your tongue out while saying it. Then, you put the three numbers into the SAFE, which, very considerately, opens. Inside it is a SMALL PIECE OF PAPER and a BOOK.
[X] Mary: Use HOW IT WORKS on the MAKEUP. How indeed?
-[X] Lucy: DFD the MAKEUP. The forbidden fruit is the most tantalizing research subject.
--[X] Owen: EVERYTHING YOU CAN'T DO I CAN DO BETTER. What? It's in the name!!
As you go to continue working on what you were doing, you notice that somehow, while you were focused on your SUDOKU PUZZLE, the MAKEUP has gotten all over the DESK. You stare at Mari, who hurriedly glances in Owen's direction. You follow her gaze and Owen whistles innocently, scratches the back of his neck, and stares at his feet. When you raise a solitary eyebrow, he crumbles under the force of your inquisition, and mumbles something about having to iron the doorbell before swiftly walking off.
It's not very HIGH-QUALITY, and was obviously taken with a SMARTPHONE CAMERA of some kind. Ankara looks pretty similar to the way she does now, except ALL OF HER BLOOD IS STILL INSIDE OF HER BODY. Presumable. She has her arm around a GRINNING MAN with MESSY, LONGISH DARK HAIR, who is wearing a BOMBER JACKET and a pair of SUNGLASSES that look... hey, those look suspiciously similar to the ones you're wearing RIGHT NOW!
PEN & NOTEPAD in hand, you take a CLOSE LOOK at the KEY. Well, it sure looks like a
Long corridors. Your head feels light. You are dizzy. You can barely walk. You feel ill. You look down. You are barefoot. You are wearing a hospital gown. Behind you is a figure in a labcoat, urging you to keep going. When you get to the subject accommodation areas, you can rest, the figure tells you. You're going to be fine, the figure tells you. You've just got a disease, but when you're cured you'll be back to your family in an instant, the figure tells you. Your senses are woozy, but your mind is sharp. You don't believe the figure. You don't believe the FOOLISH CHILD, LOOKING ONLY AT YOUR PAST WHEN THERE IS SO MUCH PAST TO SEE. IT IS LIKE BEING BLINDFOLDED. SOON, I WILL OPEN YOUR EYES.
A key, a key, a... you look down at your NOTEPAD. On it, you have drawn an EYE. You look up at Mari, and she sees something in your EYES and recoils, shocked, before she squints and seems to calm down. "Nothing, Calloway. There was a trick of the light, or something," is all she tells you when questioned.
You walk over to the FREEZER, having spent enough time on the SUDOKU PUZZLE for the WATER to have FROZEN and - oh! What's this? The ORB has shattered? You punch the air in victory, and briefly contemplate a small victory dance before deciding that Mari has raised her eyebrow at you enough times for now. You reach down and take the TILE, before placing it into the missing spot of the MOSAIC. You hear a strange creaking sound, the scraping of metal, and the TILES depicting THE PLANETS begin to MOVE AROUND THEIR STRANGE ORBITS, raised up from the rest of the MOSAIC in such a way that you feel you might be able to GRAB ONE.
The BOOK appears to have been written by one FATIMA AMJAD, and is about THE DEVELOPMENT OF CHILDREN AND XENOPSYCHOLOGY. Most of it is written in MUCH TOO DENSE PSYCHOLOGICAL TERMINOLOGY for you to fully understand, but what you can understand is the TOP SECRET watermark that has been placed on every page.
The SMALL PIECE OF PAPER seems to have been torn from a JOURNAL OF SOME SORT and has a LIST OF CAMERA BLINDSPOTS ON IT. You believe that you'd be able to use this to navigate THE LABYRINTH undetected, if you had to. On the back of it, in neat handwriting, is written "Klaus, for fuck's sake, stop making these fucking lists, what's wrong with you. I'm putting this where you can't get it back, and in fact if you're reading this at all, stop going through my stuff and fuck off. - Fatima <3"
You look down at your DRAWING OF AN EYE. The EYE looks back at you. You feel dizzy. You feel as if you are part of something larger than yourself. You notice that there are SYMBOLS drawn within the EYE. Who drew those? Did you draw those? You're confused, now. You shake your head, snapping back to the here and now, and look up at Mari.
"Mari. What did you see?"
She shrugs, looking a little nervous. "Your eyes were... it was like they were glowing. Like there was something behind them, like a neon light, but brighter. But I'm rather certain it was just some stupid trick of the light, so don't bother about it, Calloway."
The RUBY is finely cut, and very pretty! After some rigorous inspection, you decide that it will probably look GREAT on your DETECTIVE'S CROWN, which has absolutely not stoppped being a thing that DETECTIVES wear. Well. Only the REALLY COOL DETECTIVES, OBVIOUSLY. [The CROWN OF POSEIDON now gives a +9 MOXIE bonus!]
You take a close look at OWEN, who is whistling innocently, with all of the carefree cheerfulness of someone who ISN'T now wearing EYESHADOW and a slight BLUSH on his CHEEKS. As much as you want to make fun of him, this... this is actually a pretty good look for him. You can't even be mad. He's beautiful.
You quickly TAKE off your SUNGLASSES to EXAMINE THEM - they're from some FANCY BRAND with an ITALIAN NAME YOU CAN'T PRONOUNCE, like Gucci, or Prada, or Zucchini, or Ravioli. Something like that. They're DEFINITELY the same sort of eyewear worn by the man in the PHOTOGRAPH. There are little scratches on the lenses that suggest whoever owns these doesn't take the BEST care of them, but the fact that they've been CLEANED IN THE RECENT PAST suggests that the owner of these shades wears them for the FASHION APPEAL rather than due to ANY DESIRE TO BLOCK OUT THE RAYS OF THE SUN. The owner, you presume, is someone with a good income and a good (if overly flashy) eye for fashion, but who isn't especially responsible.
The PLANETS in the MOSAIC are going around and around, in strange, spiralling, looping orbits that don't make much sense to you at all. There's something mesmerizing about it all, about their different speeds and patterns, about how they interact with each other while managing to never collide. Each planet is made out of a vividly colourful substance that seems smoother and much brighter than the CORAL around it. Tentatively, you reach into the water and pull out SATURN. The movement of the other planets stops abruptly.
You suddenly feel... you don't know how to describe it. You feel refreshed. You feel stronger. You feel like you'll never lack for energy again, never have cause to sleep or eat or breathe or drink ever again. You feel refreshed.
Oh, dear God, having an inventory was a mistake. Does anyone with a better memory than I have know what the characters should have in their inventories right now? My apologies for taking so long to update and then asking a favour of you all, I just don't have the mental fortitude keeping track of such things requires, augh.
You stretch and yawn. How odd - you feel like you zoned out a little, then. Anyway, back to the imporant work of PUZZLE-SOLVING, a verb which here means 'MESSING AROUND AND SEEING WHAT WORKS'. You wouldn't say that out loud, though. You don't want to reveal the SECRETS behind your skills to MARI and OWEN.
Closing your eyes and thinking of how DETECTIVES ARE SUPER BRAVE and absolutely NOT SCARED OF BLEEDING, you squeeze a tiny little bead of blood out to put into the machine. This produces the exact same result as before.
DR. ANKARA isn't awake yet, but she seems to be stirring, mumbling quietly to herself and looking a great deal less ashen than when she first collapsed. You think it's best to leave her for just a little while longer. You don't really know what happens if you try and wake someone up when they've passed out. You're not a medical doctor - for all you know, their SPLEENS explode.
You gesture for Mari to come over and take a tile. She gestures back, a gesture which you think can be as "stop making strange gestures and speak to me." With a MELODRAMATIC SIGH, you call out to her and explain what you want from her.
"I'm not your organ monkey, Calloway," she protests snootily, but nevertheless reaches down to take the JUPITERTILE. Unfortunately, as much as she pulls at it, it appears to be STUCK. It seems that whatever mechanism that allowed the PLANETS to move freely and be removed from the MOSAIC stopped working once you removed one. Huh. You wonder if that's going to end up being symbolic of something before shaking your head and inwardly berating yourself for such a silly and frivolous idea.
You pick up one of the SHARDS OF GLASS from the shattered GLOBE, not really sure what you're doing with it. You don't know why, but you want to SEE YOUR FACE. You gaze into the SHARD, looking your reflection in the eyes. Yes. That's you alright. Your eyes seem ancient, the glow in them as old as time and as patient as stars and as vast as the ocean. Everything slows. You feel as if the air has come to a stop around you, as if you could drop a pin and only hear it after it fell to the ground for minutes, hours, days. You feel as if an eternity could pass and you could call it a second. You feel as if a second could pass and you could call it an eternity. You feel - pain. Your HAND is BLEEDING.
You've cut yourself on the glass shard. Your palm is bleeding, and it takes one, two, three seconds for the pain to travel through your nerves and reach your brain, causing you to yelp and drop it. Mari looks at you with a puzzled expression. "What? How did you do that?"
"I... I don't know. I zoned out," is the only reply you can give. Mari continues to stare, looking unsatisfied, but you brush past her. You have other things to be concerned about.
[X] Put back the SATURN tile, see if the MOSAIC resumes its movement or anything else changes in you.
-[X] Have Mari and Owen try it with their planets.
Slightly reluctantly, you put back the SATURN TILE. The PLANETS resume their bewildering rotations. While most of that strange, refreshing energy you felt wash over you is gone, a little of it remains, a tingling feeling, like little sparks dancing around inside your palms and behind your eyes, up and down your arms and seeping into your bones. Then, you tell Mari to take the JUPITER TILE again. Mari refuses. You tell her again. She refuses. Rolling your eyes, you ask her, as well as offering a GROVELING APOLOGY for asking so rudely the first time. Finally, she reaches down and takes JUPITER.
"Nothing seems very much different," she tells you, "Except for the fact that I suddenly feel as if I've had a decent night's sleep." Looking down, seeming a little ashamed, she murmurs, "I haven't, however. I haven't slept well for... a while."
Looking at her, you notice her eyes are... different, somehow. A different tinge, a different shade, a minuscule difference in gradient that makes them seem like the eyes of someone else entirely. Just looking at her, you realize, makes you feel as if a little jolt of electricity is running down your spine. A few seconds pass, and of her own accord, Mari returns the tile to the mosaic, prompting them to move again.
Then, it's Owen's turn, and he doesn't need any prompting at all before he picks up MERCURY. "Well," he says, trying and failing to improve his articulation of the concept with slightly manic hand gestures, "It's a little like, well, I wouldn't know, you know when a grown-up's had their coffee in the morning, and until then it's a little like they were still sleeping before they had it, even though they'd actually woken up? It's like that. Totally like that. I think. I don't know. Maybe."
His eyes are different too - perhaps you're seeing them in a different light, but that colour is oddly vivid. You feel as if, for a split-second, when looking into those eyes, you can see Owen flickering out of existence, like someone flicking the lights on and off but infinitely faster.
"The makeup suits you, Owen," you tell him with a polite smile, to which he goes through a number of almost cartoonish expressions in short succession - confusion, irritation, embarrassment, before eventually settling on an agreeable grin.
"Thank you," he replies, with a jaunty, airy little wave of his hand. From the other side of the room, you hear a groaning sound. Turning, you see that Dr. Ankara seems to be finally waking up.
My mental state has been in a terrible place recently but, I've managed to claw myself out of that dark pit for long enough to give you a dose of kids, science, and fun, and all the other truthful to fraudulent things promised in QS.
At long last, here it is! A spectacularly long update, which I hope makes it worth at least a little of the weight. The plot is advancing nicely! Honestly, I mainly motivated myself to write this by listening to the Virtue's Last Reward soundtrack - a soundtrack that fits the aesthetic of QS very well, and one that I'd recommend to anyone as a beautiful achievement in video game music.
For what's it worth, I wanted to say a big "Thank You" for running this quest. It is one of the best things I've seen come to this forum, and it never fails to brighten my day. I never knew I missed it before I found it.
And by the way, thank you very much for this comment! Honestly, it absolutely made my day to hear that someone enjoys this ridiculous little thing I like to write, and gave me a much-needed jolt of motivation.
"You..." she frowns, kicking her feet as she seems to struggle to remember. "You.. I'm not sure. It just felt like you were holding it for a lot longer than you were. As if you, standing there, holding that... as if that was something that might just go on forever. I don't know. Forget it, Calloway, I'm just making myself look stupid."
You assure Mari that she's not being stupid; that when the two of them held their own tiles, you felt something strange happen. Something that you can't quite put into words, not perfectly, but something nonetheless. Something that didn't feel... of this world.
"Well, now you're just being ridiculous," says Mari, primly.
"I dunno," Owen counters, seeming deep in thought. For Owen, being deep in thought seems to mean thinking at all, but at least it's something. "It's not like anything's... well, impossible, right? After all of the, uh, the stuff, that has happened, and is, uh, still happening, and is, uh, maybe not going to stop from happening, although it maybe will. I'm not, uh, exactly an expert on, future, status, of-"
"We get it, Martinez," Mari snaps testily. "You're a gullible moron."
Owen frowns and crosses his arms, glaring at the floor. You roll your eyes - you don't have time to deal with these two, or at the very least, you don't right now.
You decide that you have done ENOUGH HANDS-ON INVESTIGATION when it comes to these tiles. You put MERCURY back in its place, and watch the SOLAR SYSTEM begin its intricate and delicate rotation once more. It's a pretty satisfying sight. Mesmerizing, almost... but no! You have no time for being mesmerized! The only thing around here that is going to be mesmerized is DR. ANKARA, and then only by your IMPRESSIVE MOXIE.
Ankara's stirrings have been steadily increasing, and as you go over to check on her, her eyes flicker open behind her wire-frame glasses. She doesn't seem to know where she is for a few seconds, before she blinks, and that insightful, knowing gaze, fixes on you standing over her. Sighing, she goes to climb to her feet, and then quickly sits down on the floor, breathing heavily after she nearly collapses in the attempt.
There are a few seconds of silence, when neither of you say anything - it would feel somehow wrong to say something right now, like you're in church, or a movie theater. You feel as if to say something would be to break a rule, to shatter a moment, to distract from something that needs to be seen more than anything. It's a curious feeling, but it's very quickly broken when she says something.
"You bandaged my wound." It's a statement, not a question, and her tone only carries with it the very faintest impression of surprise. You point at Mari over your shoulder, trying to keep your tone equally calm in return.
"She did," you reply.
"And you let her." There's a certainty in those words, the self-assurance in one's own perception of the world that only the deeply arrogant and the frighteningly perceptive are able to hold. You feel as if you have nothing to say in response.
[X] - What are this project's goals?
-[X] How did I end up selected?
-[X] What is Ascension. What happens to us once we ascend?
-[X] How do we get out of here?
"I will answer some of your questions, child," Ankara says, interrupting you in the split-second between your opening your mouth and the words you intended to say tumbling out, "But I cannot answer all of them. There are some things you should not know, and some things you cannot know, no matter how much you deserve. I am sorry. From the bottom of my heart, I am sorry."
"Right," you sigh, tapping your foot impatiently. You're a little irritated that you got interrupted like that when you were just in the middle of launching into a MACHINE-GUN SPRAY of RAPID-FIRE INTERROGATION. Of course, you realize the gravity of the situation, but at the same time, the idea of finally getting some answers has you so excited that it's all you can do to stop yourself from giggling aloud. This case is going to be MORE CRACKED than the principal's window in your infamous CASE OF THE CARELESSLY-POSITIONED BASEBALL PLAYERS! "Tell me everything you can, lady."
Adding 'lady' at the end was a nice touch, you think to yourself, smiling, and you almost give yourself a pat on the back. God, you're brilliant. Instead of focusing on you and your brilliance, however, Dr. Ankara is very rudely leaning against the wall, looking down silently in her lap. You tap your foot meaningfully, and eventually she looks up to answer.
"The world, children, is in grave danger. There is... something approaching, that is beyond our understanding. Or at least, that was beyond our understanding, before the institute you're standing in right now figured it out. To protect the world, we needed a weapon. And you... not just you three, others as well, you were needed to help us create that weapon. We needed children, but it turned out that we couldn't just use any children. Think of it as hands and gloves. We had to find hands that would fit the gloves perfectly, the gloves being this project. If you were chosen, it's because you're what we needed."
She shakes her head, refusing to look you in the eye. "You have to understand. We've only had the best intentions since the beginning. I cannot tell you all of it, there is so much that is secret. So much that you should never have to know. Please believe me when I say, anything that has happened... anything that will happen, it was for the greater good."
"Um, if I can just, if it wouldn't be too rude to interrupt what you're saying," interrupts Owen, rudely, "That's all, uh, very interesting, and I'd really like to write it down so I can, you know, listen to it all later, but. Right now. How do we get out. How do we get home."
Ankara sighs again, a lone drop of blood pooling at the corner of her lips. "There are several levels to this center. If you want to leave, you'll have to pass through the Labyrinth to get to the main elevator. It goes as far as the first floor of the penultimate level. From there, you'll have to make your way to the emergency elevator, and you should be able to take that to somewhere above ground. You... you can try and leave if you want to. But it's dangerous. This whole facility is dangerous, right now. And without you, I am not sure if the Consortium will be able to serve its purpose. To save the Earth."
You look helplessly, confusedly, at Mari, hoping for some solidarity, for a signal, for anything. She looks like she's not hearing anything she hasn't heard before. "Was I always meant to be used for that, then?" she asks, scowling. "Did all of you know, all of you except Father? Was that the plan all along?"
Ankara shrugs and nods. Mari frowns, takes a deep breath, and shakes her head. "Doesn't matter. They're people, and I am too. And we're going to find my father and get out of here, and we'll complete his work without any of you, and without any of, of all of this." She turns and offers you the Mari version of a reassuring smile, which is a smirk that, while being smug, somehow includes you in the smugness.
Owen takes the opportunity of this moment of solidarity to inquire after his erstwhile companion.
"I don't know, but I have a theory. I cannot tell you, however. It would distress you too much, children. And I honestly do not know whether or not he can be saved. I am sorry." She gestures to her bleeding abdomen. "It is Mars that nearly killed me earlier."
[X] Ask the 'good doctor' about the Tiles and the weird things that are going on with that.
[X] At some point, if possible, shine a light in her face. That's what they do in interrogations in the movies.
You don't have a LIGHT that you could use for that purpose, so instead you just stand in such a way that the AMBIENT LIGHT reflects off of the jewels on your DETECTIVE CROWN and into her eyes! That'll show her! Disappointingly, she doesn't seem to be affected by it beyond a slight squint. You inquire about the TILES.
"For what lies ahead, to have one of those will be very useful," is all she says, "But equally as dangerous. Be careful."
[X] Show the doctor the files on test subjects, ask what she has to say about that.
-[X] Ask why the files on 'present subjects' appear to be missing. How many are there? Where are they?
[X] Ask her what the end result of the experiment was supposed to be.
She doesn't even seem willing to lift her head up to look at the files, hanging it instead in what may be exhaustion, shame, or both in equal measure. "Soteriology, children," she says, quietly. "The study of saviors."
Slowly, unsteadily, but surely nonetheless, she's getting to her feat, still leaning on the wall for support. Reaching up, she first adjusts her hijab, then polishes the lenses of her glasses. "Listen. I have already stayed here too long while I was unconscious. The security of the Labyrinth is currently focused on following me. If I try and make a run for it, successful or not, I should be able to attract enough attention to make your passage through possible, if not quite safe. If you have anything more to ask of me, ask it now. After that, I will try and escape this place, so that you may have a chance at surviving your own attempt. Marinette, your father is in the main building, where, exactly, I do not know." She fixes you with those eyes that make you feel like she's looking through your eyes and into your thoughts.
