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⬣//ILLNESS BEYOND CONTAINMENT, DEATH WITHOUT LIMIT
You wake to the sound of silence— no early morning birdsong, no rustling leaves, not even the sound of your own breathing reaches your ears. For a single moment, you feel as if time has frozen, your mind held in stasis, until a familiar boyish lilt hits your ears. A beat later and he's standing before you, a smile stretching from cheek to cheek, but that smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.
"Good morning, sleepyhead! I was wondering when you'd wake up. Are you well? Does anything hurt?
Mm, not that it makes much difference to me. If you're in pain, know that it's only temporary. If you're unhappy, you won't stay that way forever. This world is a world of miracles, one where everything that hurts you can be forgotten and destroyed!
Ah, but some of you don't believe me when I say that. Some of you still think the world that's hurt you oh so much is better than one where you can make all that pain go away. Don't you want to be happy? Why are humans so addicted to their own suffering?
I think it's time to find out!"
The boy vanishes before you can get a word in edgewise. Try to reach out and touch him and your hand will pass straight through. You now have, at least, a solid idea of what Lily looks like. It's only a shame that there is little you can do to stop him.
On the same day Lily made his presence known to all of Fragment, another equally sweet young boy has mysteriously vanished.
In the monster-laden streets of Mac Anu, shreds of bloodied white fabric can be found scattered about. A single golden horn can be found in the canal, roughly shorn and badly scuffed.
It's unclear who or what injured Zelkova, but no matter where you search or how hard you try to find him, no further clues will turn up.
When attempting to message Zelkova, who appears online as he always does, you'll always receive the same response—
"Hi! I'm Zelkova!"
In the wake of Zelkova's absence is a feeling of unease. You may feel anxious, scared, perhaps even angry over the perpetual downturn of events. In fact, you'll find that it's gotten very difficult to manage your own emotions.
Throughout the next two weeks, you'll steadily get more and more emotional. Small inconveniences will throw you into a rage. Stubbing your toe will make you lapse into hysterics. A smile from a friend may fill your heart with longing and your loins with lust.
No matter how you might try to quell the tempest of emotion inside of you, nothing seems to work. Every feeling is magnified, every feeling is intense, and all you can do is allow yourself to be taken by emotion.
It's a shame Zelkova isn't here to assure you that everything will be fine, just fine. Fine, fine, fine…
You may hear stirrings amongst the NPCs in various Root Towns that something unusual is occurring at Twilight Shoreline. Some claim that the sky itself has been ripped and torn while others make mention of an unusual figure lingering in the waves.
It may be tempting to gate in and investigate these unusual rumors yourself, but be warned: you may not leave in the same condition you arrived.
Do you remember what it was like to be a real human being? To have a life, a purpose, a meaning outside of the digital world? That must be nice. Memories are such lovely, precious things.
Unfortunately, what little remains to you will be taken away with the loss of your third and final core memory. Several other memories from your time in the outside world will disappear as the days roll by, slowly but surely erasing who you were and making room for who you have become: a swordsman, an adventurer, a catgirl, a being who has never known anything beyond the boundaries of Fragment.
Still, some pieces of your old identity remain, desperately clinging onto your old concept of self. Those with the drive to escape Fragment and return to the real world will still feel that flame burning deep within even if they no longer remember what sparked it. Not all hope is lost, but the worst has yet to come.
A foul wind blows, billowing through Root Towns and Recreational Areas alike. On the wind, you hear the whispers of forgotten memories, both your own and those of the people trapped with you. Though you may no longer recognize those memories as your own or those of your friends, you can't help but feel as if some part of you has been clawed out and torn to shreds. It's a sad, lonely, isolating feeling, b̵͓̘͎͍̅̄͛́ú̷̹͕̒̀͝t̴̟̥̮͖̗̆̃̾͋̋̎̄̉͐̋͆̇̕͘ ̴̢̥̬̼͚̰̬̰͍̥͉̝̦͕̥̰̎̈́̃̅͆̉̈́̀̏̏̇̀͜í̵̧̧̥͓͇̠̗̤̺̖̼̬̪́̓̐̽̿̽͗͜t̴̨̲͎̼̦̱̪̬̭͖̓̾̈̄̈́̒̎͆̇̕͠ ̸̢̣̰͈̝͈̫̦͉͕̋͂̐͗̓̽́̈͛̃͑̓̚͜͝ẁ̷̙͛̍̑̈́̅͂͊̓̽̈̌̋͘͝ó̷̢̮̟͙̹̤̭̬̬̰͓̣͑͆̂̈́̎͂̒̌̊̽͘̚̚͜͠͠ņ̵̢̛̦̖̆͆͂̽̑̊'̷̢̮̫͚̜̭̰̙̭͚͓̭͙̺͑͜ţ̸̛̛̘͚̘̯̲̖̰̝̖͙̥͊̉̑̄̽̀̆̎̈́̅͘͜͝ ̶̩́̈̈́̌͑̿̆̾̈́͊̀̈́͘̚͝͝l̴̲͕̩̊́a̶̫̪̽̒̌̀̑̍̿̕s̶̱͉̩̣̒͆̽͗̽̊͂̚̕͠͝t̸̢̧̨̹̬̹͈̣̮͈̣͚̰̳̲̤͌͗̊͗̎͂̎͗̏̆̀̀͑̽̑̿͠ ̴̩̺͕̳̝̘̳̣͎͚̰̇̈́̈́͑͐̈̈̏̀͂̈́̍̽̑ͅf̷̛̙̖̲́͒͐̏̒̿̆͆̑̎͐̄̉o̷̱̭̙͗̌͆͗́̆̌́͗̚͘ȓ̷̡̢̦̠̖̟̻̬͚͈͔̥͓̟̤̋̿̃̎̌͗̂̽̐͛͆͠e̵̼̻͓̺̖͓̞̘̤͎̤͓͚͔͚͔̓̈́͘v̵̡̖̳̗̼͉̻͓̗̠̝̭͍̆͒ͅê̷̱̄̀ͅr̴̤̠̜̞͉̘̙̠̙̩̣̫̮̘͖͉̿͋̈͊̓̓͜.̷͓̯̒͐̏̋̓͗̄̉̓̎̒̾̚͝͝ͅ ̸͖̘̞̼͓͚̝̘̙͓͔̱̗͍̏̑̐̔̋̉͂̈̿̆͂̋̋̈S̵̢̫̭̠̩̻̩̈́̔̅̾͛͛̌̃̑͐̈̕͝o̵̡͖̙̘̟͕̗̲̒͋̇̿̔̍͒̈́̏͑͆̉̀͒́̕̕ö̸̜́̽̈́̀̆̐̂̉̔́̅̔̆ň̵̛̥͍̘͕̫̝͔̼̮̝̤̎̀̉̔̍̊͜,̸̨̛͇͙̺̱͎͙͖͎́̈̈̀̂͜͝ ̵̩̯̯̟̂̒͊̌̆̆y̵̢̜̘̘͗͂̎̓͒̿͑̇̆̉̋͘͠͠o̷̢̨̜̹̣̗̤͍͇̅́ŭ̷̞̇̈̑̂͊͂̓͋̅̌͐͘'̴̡̨̡̰̘̠͉͈̥̓͜l̴̡̡̰̖͙͕̹̹̝̖͉̓̿l̸̢̧̞̜̻̝͈̙̫̈́̒̈́̐̀̄̿̈́̀̄̚͘͘̕͜ ̵̛̗̗̙̩̙̝̩̟͎̗͉̠̉̋̒́̐̐̀̄̃̐́̎͒̕͝b̵̨̡̢͖̺̼͔͓̬̟̭͕̈̈̓̒̓͌ȩ̷̥̟̳̲̝̩̝̱͎̲͆̔̕͜͠ ̷̧͈̠͈͓͉̭͔̪͕͖̫͇̼̩͓̣̔̆̈́̋̓́̂̉̔̎͂̒̈́͂͂̈́̚ḥ̷̛͍͇͈̼̺̣̦͕̪̹̘̝̅̂̌͗̾̋͌̈́̾̂͠͝͝a̶̢̛̝͔͚̠̻̗̞̿̊̆͒̐̅̉͗͒̉͘̕͠ͅp̵̓̍̾̓͊̌̑̈͋̾͒͜͝p̶̳͎͙̹̎͆̿͠ͅy̸̨̧̡̩͚̯̪͕̽̓̅̀̇̕͜.̷͍͙̹̓͛͐̀͐́͝ ̷̺̼͖̔͐̏̈̾̈́̆̿̅͝͠͠Y̷̢̛͗̀͛o̵̢͖͖͈̙͒̄̆̉̀̆͌̉͜u̵̫̩͓͖̲̝͔̲̎̏̐̈̓̚͘'̵̡̨̻͍̲͚͔̤̼̬̪̠́͌́́̒̕͠l̷̫͔̜̍͆̍͋̔͆͒̾̑͑̐͒̈l̴̡̩̳̟̩͕̗̠͗̓̆̚͝ ̶̯͈͕̜̤̗͚̙̗̝͒̃̎́̒̂̔͑́͊̈́̓͒͌̅͝k̶͕̬̳̰̝̮͈͉̰͊́̃͘͜ṋ̵̎̃͛̾̃͐̂̔̿̔͐̓̍ő̴̫͔̐̂͑͛͋̈́̂̈́̈̚ẅ̵̛̮̪̝̖̰͖́̃̇̃̇̅̓̇̕̚͠ ̴̢̫͕̻̜͇̝̺̣̟̥̥͉̖̗̱̙̇͑͆̿̓͑̕ņ̷̨̢̩̳̱̝̩͖̼̰̩͙̫͆̄͐ơ̶̢̧̢̡̰̜̰̞̭͓̹͔̲̱̄͋̄͐̆̏́͗̏̀͂̓͗͋͊͘ ̷̘͈̰͖̰͂͛͌̑̿̀͗͑́̽̊͂̒̚͝ͅp̸̯̤̀̄̀a̵͇̖̖̹͗͑̈͐̉̽͂̚͝ḭ̴̫̫͚̻̥̮̲̫͈̹̮̞̲̘̩̪̄͐͐̄̈́̒͌̇̇̽̓̆͗̒͝n̷͓̥̬̠͔̗̯̬͈̪̞̪̗̘̩̲̭͗̏.̷͙̹̥̗̼̉̽̆̈́͘̕͠͝ ̸̞͔̱͙̑̄̈́̂̔̎̃̓̐̚H̷̨̲̗̲͙̗̱̠̗̹͔̥̦̋͒̈́̆͑̚͜á̵̧̛̛̟͎͈̲̼̣̊̆̇̐͆̌͒̀̚͠ͅp̶͎̠̫͖̗͋͑̏͑͛̈́̏͋̈̇͘p̸͈̟̦̠̮͚̫̥̅̍̐̏͆̂̀̒̇̂́͌̐́̕i̵̡̡̘͔͍̭̱̜̯̞͎̬͈̗̎̀̈͒̆̀̓̈͜͝n̵̜̑̃̔͠e̴̡̢̦̩͙͚̦̥͎̩̰̓̈́̿̎̔͌s̸̥͓̱̗͙̥̺͖̥͉̱̹̟̀́̀̆̑͂̌͜ͅś̵͚̮̝̤̭̘͎͔̝͔̤͙̤̮͓̘̒͋̂͗̍̓̔ ̵̦͖̩̠͉̹̘͎̮͓͙̙̣̜̘͋͊̏͊̋̊̈̓́͆̌̚͝c̷̨͕͕͕̖͉̹͔͎̦̠̱̍ǎ̷̫̬̪̘̠͔͍͍̹̞͉̈́̃̓̊͆͘͠ń̸̢͆͒̀̀͂̊̆̚̕̕ ̶̙̺͇̬̼̪̩̮͗͌̍̈̀̀͝b̸̡̺̞̳̗̳̙̗̯̠̦̼̻̭̑͗̋̔͒̀̾̅̄̊̾̾͘e̴̢̢̘̜̟̯͎̜̭̞̼͚̟̾́̓͊̊̃̄͌̃̓͆̽̕ͅ ̵͔̝̖̖͚̓͂f̷̡̛̝̳͎̼̼̱̪͈͙̣͖͙̘̞̺̮̉͑͘͝͝ő̷̧̹̦͓̰̦̯̝̣̱̲̠̩̟̺́̋̅́͒̈̏͘͝u̸͍͍͇̟̲̟̟̺̓̌̍͑͒͌́̌̽̐͊̚̚͝n̴͓̺͕̜͚̲͍͍̰̙̖̘̪͓̙̘͇̍͑͛͊͂̄̾̿̍͋͊̂̈́̕͝d̴̺̟̞̙͍͓̪͈͋̓̇͌̚͜ͅ ̵̛̮̯̪̤̫͖̠͔̫̥̬̰͈͍͚̇̀͗̐͗̈̚͝͝͝ę̶̡̦̜͙͔̜̩̽̇̀v̵̢̡̗̥̬͉͍̱̲̻̘̝̮́̅̍̈́͑̌̏̚̕ͅͅͅë̶̝̳̤́͋̈͗͋̍̊̽͋̕͝n̵̪͓̠͖̫̫̩̻͚͍̬̤͆͗͊̉̾̌͐̾͑̑̍̈́̕ͅ ̷̙͍͓̂̔̓̃̄̚͝i̵̧̨̮͕̱͓͕̦͇̲̹̋̐̈́̆͜ͅn̷̝͈͇̹͚̝̏̄ ̴͇̪̬̈́̏͗̃̄͌̐̊͝ͅd̵͔̖̠͈̮̃̍͗̀̋͛͗̈́̏͂̇̇̕ę̴̪̟̰͍̱̘͇̼̻̤͎̇͊̐ą̷̧̪̭̖̣̖͎̪͌̒̐̄̑͊̐͑̕t̵̡̧̡̯̬̗̞̰̪͇͉͎͍̝̰̄̓͌̈́͆̿̔͐̇̈́h̷̥̖͔̆͑͊͛͂͠.̵̛̹̃̒́̋̾̒̔̓̒͛͆̓̃̕͠
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Actually, yeah who cares about manners right now - do you… know how to drive in real life?!
[ hecking heck man, but he does manage to fling a molotov at the wyvern with baseball club aim ]
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I do! Does this mean I'm gonna drive like a boy scout right now? Hell no.
[ To prove his point, he runs over a goblin. The car is not stopping. ]
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I dunno if you’d ever be a boy scout. If you were, you’d be the kind that would hustle cookies.
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That's also right!
[ He laughs, running over some Mad Grass too. Oria only wishes he could run over everything. Alas. ]
I would totally learn how to hustle cookies.
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What’s up with you anyway? Pent-up?
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I got to experience some real freaky shit earlier today, so I'm letting loose.
[ He runs over some more goblins... they never had a chance. ]
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... When you say freaky... Do you have a hole in your chest, too? How many eyes do you have? How many are hiding under your clothes?
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I'm normal! But yeah, it was definitely about that! I'm still weirded out by it. I think I'm gonna have nightmares from the sheer trauma.
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[ oh, there's a stray enemy that needs to be hit with a homing molly. goodbye [hackberry king]... ]
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Deto, I think you're gonna have nightmares about this too, if I tell you.
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[ something something he has an emotional support bun ]
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cw: gross descriptive imagery of... meat?
Mithrun took my hand and shoved it into his chest cavity. There was nothing—no bones, organs, muscle... it was just empty. The texture was so gross too, like you're digging your hand inside some tightly packaged cold meat.
[ He's still driving. ]
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…huh… ]
Oh! [ he snaps his fingers and points at oriade ] The weird cat guy. I remembered the 1 but forgot the rest of his name. Well, that’s yikes.
At least nothing was squirming on the inside?
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[ Oria looks exasperated but laughing at the same time. ]
You suck at being therapist. I'm gomma revoke your license.
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Oh, shut up. You laughed. Seriously though, what do you even say to something like that? Why’d he even do that?
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Yeah, see? Told you it was messed up. I guess he wanted me to see how much his body changed...
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And uh - [ throwing another molly at a pack of enemies ] - I don’t mean inside his chest. By the way, do you want to get punched by Vogel? Don’t go touching another guy’s chest.
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[ He will admit that Mithrun can be pretty, but he definitely thinks of him as more of someone that he should help no matter what the cost, even if it means killing him repeatedly. ]
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[ Chestfucking...??? No thanks. Not his thing. ]
Anyway, yeah. That's what messed me up.
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[ they’ve been driving and running over so many enemies, he wonders just how many oriade has killed… bro, what’s the kill count ]
You said Vogel would understand, so you already talked to him about it? What’d he say?
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About what? My hand going inside of his chest? He didn't ask, but I told him heavy implications of it. And he's smart.
[ Deto could chalk that up into Oria's always doing weird things and Sinclair is used to it... ]
I have the best boyfriend in the world.
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[ after meeting the two of them? that’s the impression he gets tbh ]
Too bad he can’t say the same.
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[ !!!! ]
PROVING MY POINT - I HOPE VOGEL IS WATCHING!!
[ definitely holding his legs up and scared for his life. if oriade lets him fall out of this car, he’s going to haunt him forever and make him dream of meaty chest holes nightly ]
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