cradleproject | WEEK 1

the pygmalion. . .

ONLINE

CAPTAIN'S LOG:
WEEK (1)

monday

(41) survivors

It had been three days since you had awoken. The ship was still quiet, except for the low hums of enigmatic machines with no apparent purpose. You awake, like usual, to dim lighting and poor rations. Perhaps being on the ship had grown monotonous — it was, perhaps, amazing how little anything seemed to happen in space, a final frontier of malaise.

That monotony is crushed by a voice echoing through the narrow hallways.

Reformatting . . .

Reformatting . . .

Reformatting complete. The Pygmalion is online. Welcome, travelers. Please assemble in the meeting room. Your presence is mandatory.

Silence falls once again. A minute or so passes, and the lights around the ship finally brighten, the walls looking more alive and more unfamiliar — as if you must relearn the ship's interior once again. The robots on deck begin to make rounds, nudging and pushing at the ship's passengers to make their way to the meeting room. You hear the doors behind you lock. It seems there is only one path to take.

ENTER COMMAND_

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

If you find out, point me in their direction. There's a lot of things on my list I've gotta fix. [...there's a pause.] You only break your own swords, right?

Yeah that is pretty much a thing I do. Don't worry, dude, I'm not gonna break your sword. That would be majorly uncool?

[ also rude ]

And I'd hate to think of you as uncool. [Sarcasm, serious, hard to say. There's one thing bugging him though.] If we've got these things, where are they? [And in his case, how'd they get the thing?]

Maybe in our locked rooms?

[ it's the only logical place he can think of. ]

Then you know what our next step is. [We break into the locked rooms duh. This is perfectly logical because he has to see this sword to believe it's there.] All the more reason I wanna know why we had to sleep in the halls and other parts of the ship when we had our own rooms.