Arc II, Chapter 43: The Prescription
The needle on the Plot Cycle was nearly to The End. I thought about crawling toward Isaac, but then I thought better of it. His Dead indicator was blinking longer and longer. He was unconscious. The only thing that approaching him might do was wake him up. That would only cause him to suffer.
I sat and contemplated how he was even still alive. His Grit was nothing to write home about. He must have triggered his If he’s still cracking jokes trope constantly throughout the run. His injuries were minor but numerous. I just hoped he wouldn’t be too affected.
It took twenty minutes for the story to end. I was sure glad about it because it meant my hoodie had returned. The pain was one thing. The cold, wet ground was another.
I stood and cracked my back. That made me feel better.
Isaac was still asleep at the top of the stone steps when I climbed up to him.
He was fully healed.
I nudged his shoulder. He came to with a cough.
“I’m up,” he said.
As soon as he realized what was going on, he reached for his face to make sure it was back to normal. It was. His face and his shaggy hair both back the way they were before his ordeal.
“My shirt’s not ripped anymore,” he chirped, examining his tie-dye t-shirt.
“Thank god,” I said. “I was worried about that.”
He chuckled.
“It was actually one of the things I kept thinking about while I was zonked out. I only have one shirt with me. I need to go back to the hotel to change.”
I laughed. “Yeah, that sedative really had a way of rearranging your priorities.”
I helped him to his feet.
The switch to open up the secret path into the hospital was hard to find at first, but I must have found it because the door creaked open.
“Not so bad, eh?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Not bad at all,” he responded. He was lying. He got quiet for a moment as we walked out of Halle’s office and then asked me, “Did I die?”
“No,” I said. Even if he had, I might not have told him. Save that existential crisis for after the tutorial.
We kept walking. I wasn’t sure which direction the others had fled in, but soon enough, we found Dina’s messages on the red wallpaper, which were still there.
We talked, theorizing about why we didn’t start to “turn into monsters” as a result of being experimented on. I theorized that was for a different version of the story.
“That was the thing I was most afraid of,” he said. “If I hurt Cassie.”
“Well, you didn’t,” I said as we made our way through the carnage.
There were body parts everywhere. There were more than made sense.
“You think they knew what would happen to them?” Isaac asked about the NPCs.
“Some did. Others didn’t,” I said.
Howard Halle had given me an important piece of information in our conversation. He said that NPCs only remember what makes them better at their roles. Did these poor people improve at being victims by remembering what would happen?
Could they even remember what would happen?
Willis talked about them like their situation was something he had never seen before—a generation of NPCs born during the continuity loop of the Tutorial. It was like he thought they were different. He questioned how they would fit into the storylines.
NPCs usually respawned at the same rate as a storyline’s Omen did.
But these NPCs didn’t really have normal storylines. They were part of a Throughline story, and those didn’t stick around once they were completed. The Tutorial would become a husk of what we experienced. Once we pushed the Throughline forward, would they still have an Omen to regenerate for?
I pushed those thoughts away. I was likely going to find out soon. I couldn’t say for sure what the Throughline would entail, but I was developing theories.
The path of messages from Dina led us back to the town square. It was still a mess.
“There goes that,” I said.
“What?” Isaac asked.
I pointed to the time capsule. The mayor, a level 50 version of him, was having it loaded into a wooden crate and hauled away with a forklift.
Back to square one on that thing.
I suspected that if I talked to someone, I would find out it was still the day before the Centennial, and it would be for quite some time.
“Let’s wait here,” I said.
Isaac nodded.
~-~
It took a while for the others to return. When they did, Willis was not with them. He wasn’t going to stick around for Silas, much like the Stranger hadn’t. That was annoying. I still had questions for him.
Cassie hugged Isaac tightly. She even hugged me, as did Kimberly. It was a big, happy reunion.
“I didn’t have frogs on my bingo card,” Antoine said.
“I did,” Isaac said.
They continued talking and even laughing. I was waiting for our last arrival. Before long, he was there.
“Step right up,” Silas the Showman said, “You won a ticket!”
This time, I was the first to hit the red button on his box.
I got two stat tickets. That was really good, considering how high my level was. I received one trope.
| A Method to the Madness Type: Insight Archetype: Film Buff Aspect: Filmmaker Stat Used: Moxie
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| Method actors can be a significant strain on the patience of a director, producer, or any other member of a film crew. Trying to give such an actor pointers would be maddening. Could you imagine if the bad guy still acted evil when the camera was off? When Off-Screen with an enemy, the player will be able to continue talking to the enemy, but they will respond in character in similar ways to how they might On-Screen. Any information obtained must be reestablished On-Screen. The player will see a timer for when they are back On-Screen. The enemy will not change their Off-Screen directions, so don’t expect an easy conversation. There’s no such thing as a stupid question. Unless, of course, you’re asking it to a werewolf.
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