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

What is a sylladex?

[here comes an endless fount of curiosity and questions]

A way of carryin' shit in like. A pocket dimension which is like...it's a magical bag of holding, a'ight?

[magical bag of holding helps]

Oh! I see. What an interesting thing to call it...

[ heck yes he's got this down just pretend he's explaining everything to like someone from lord of the rings ]

Yeah, we have a lot of weird lingo back home, but it all means...mostly normal shit. I think.