mythos

(set:$name to (prompt:" enter your name: ","iono")) welcome, $name <div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/startpicture-mythos.png" alt="Mythos Start Picture" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> </div> [[ story selection]] [[ About]]

In the blistering heart of the desert known as Ælfhwīt—Old English for “vast white”—you are utterly alone. The convoy had been moving steadily across the salt flats when the storm hit: a wall of sand and static fury that swallowed the horizon and shattered visibility. One moment, you were flanked by familiar silhouettes and the hum of comms chatter; the next, silence. your radio crackled with nothing but wind. Signals lost. Tracks erased. The desert, once vast and navigable, had become a blank page of chaos. Now, with no bearings and no voices to guide you. The mission had been simple: chart the salt basin’s edges, test comms range, log terrain anomalies. But the storm came early, a roiling wall of sand, your gear, pared down for speed, offered no shelter. Supplies dwindled. Tracks vanished [[ continue]]

(alert:" when your tiredness reaches a 100 or more, you are very tired, when your hunger reaches 0 you are starving, when your cash reaches 0 you are broke") (set:$prep to false) (set: $breakfast to false)(set:$check to false)(set:$bed2 to false) (set:$count=0)(set:$bed3 to false)(set:$friday to false) The office lights had flickered off one by one, motion sensors giving up on me. I was the last to leave—again. The quarterly report had bled into the evening, then into night, until the only sound was the hum of the vending machine and the occasional cough from the janitor down the hall. Outside, the city had changed. The rush was gone, replaced by the hush of sodium streetlamps and the occasional hiss of a passing bus. I walked home with my tie loosened, briefcase in one hand, dinner still a maybe. The streets were familiar but different at this hour—emptier, more honest. I passed shuttered shops, a flickering neon sign, a cat perched on a stoop like a sentinel. My apartment was quiet. The kind of quiet that made me notice the hum of the fridge, the creak of the floorboards, the sigh I didn’t know I’d been holding. I dropped my keys in the bowl by the door, kicked off my shoes, and stood for a moment in the dark. There was a half-eaten sandwich in the fridge. A voicemail from my sister. A sticky note on the mirror that read, “Don’t forget to breathe.” I sat on the edge of the bed, loosened my collar, and stared at the ceiling. Another day survived. Another night to myself. And maybe—just maybe—tomorrow I’d leave before the lights gave up on me. [[ continue 2]]

It started with the silence. Birdsong vanished first. Then the rustle of small things in the underbrush. By the time we noticed the patterns—missing livestock, clawed fences, the way the dogs refused to go out at night—it was already too late. They came in waves. Not just one species, but many. Wolves that didn’t fear fire. Birds that hunted in coordinated spirals. Insects that swarmed with purpose. Something had shifted—ecology rewritten, instincts sharpened, as if the wild had been rebooted with a single directive: consume. It wasn’t a virus. It wasn’t engineered. It was a mutation—silent, ancient, and buried deep in the genome of every carnivore. Within weeks, every carnivorous species began to change. Their bodies grew exponentially—twenty times their original size, with no loss of agility or speed. Their aggression spiked in parallel, as if the mutation unlocked a primal urge to hunt, dominate, consume. Zoos became war zones. Forests emptied. Cities fell under siege. Humanity, no longer apex, scattered into convoys and bunkers, clinging to survival. [[ continue 3]]

This game is where you can choose your character's future, use your imagination and make the impossible possible, it maybe limited now but in the future it will be in it's full form, thank you for playing- creator albino tiger [[ story selection]]

choose a senario [[desert survival.]] not available [[ day of a office worker]] available [[ predator surge]] not available

(set:$waterbottle to 1) (set:$ration to 2) (set:$health to 100) (set: $stamina to 60) (set: $heat to 65) (set: $food to 90) (set: $water to 60) (set: $location to "Ælfhwīt") (set: $bikeStatus to "functional") (set: $comms to "offline") (set: $crewStatus to "missing") :: Status '''Survival Stats for $name''' health: $health (text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location You sit up slowly, sand cascading off your shoulders and arms as you brush it from your clothes. It’s in your boots, your gloves, even your mouth—gritty and dry. The storm’s passed, but its silence lingers, thick and unnatural. You scan the horizon: nothing but pale dunes and a sky still hazy with dust. Your bike is half-buried nearby, its frame coated in sand but miraculously intact. You crawl toward it, kneeling beside your pack. The zipper sticks, but you force it open. Inside, you find a half-full water pouch, two ration bars softened by heat, a flare, and a toolkit—missing its wrench. The comms unit blinks red. No signal. No crew. Just you, your gear, and the vast white stretching endlessly in every direction. You check your vitals. You’re running hot, but still standing. Time to decide: fix the bike, try the comms, or start scanning for signs of life. [[start, bike and try to find something| start riding]]

(set:$health to 100)(set:$hunger to 50)(set:$tiredness to 60)(set:$cash to 4000)(set:$ID to 0)(set:$debtcard to 0)(set:$phone to 0)(set:$umb to 0)(set:$answer to false)(set:$stayhome to false) $name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash (set: $from to "continue 2") Do you want to [[sleep]] [[ prepare for the next day|prep]] [[ listen to the voice message from your sister]] [[shower]]

(if:$tiredness>0)[(set:$tiredness to ($tiredness-10))] (if:$health<100)[(set:$health to ($health+10))] (if:$bed3 is true)[(goto:"friday")] (goto:"next day")

“Hey, it’s me. I know you’re probably still at work, or maybe just got home and collapsed on the couch with your tie half-undone like some tragic sitcom character. Just… call me when you can, okay?, also, Mom keeps asking if you’re eating real food or just vending machine regrets. Anyway. I miss you. Don’t forget to breathe. And maybe leave early next time. Love you.” [[Return -> continue 2]]

It's cold, it's always been cold but its soothing (if:$from is "continue 2")[[[Return -> continue 2]]] (if:$from is "evening sleep")[[[sleep->sleep]] ] (if:$from is "home")[ [[home]]] (else-if: $from is "next day")[[[return->next day]]]

$name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash (set: $from to "next day")(set:$park to false) <div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/celin-view-a.png" alt="another day/ night" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> (if:$bed2 is true)[ you wake up, but your body is still asleep, work or home? [[shower]] [[ make breakfast]] [[get ready for work]] [[stay home]]] (else:)[It's the next morning, you wake up groggy. hair messy and you really don't want to get up [[shower]] [[ make breakfast]] [[get ready for work]] [[stay home]] ]

(if:$friday is true)[(set:$hunger to ($hunger+5)) (alert:"you ate something +5 hunger") You made a simple breakfast, romen noodles... [[get ready for work]] ] (else-if:$friday is false)[ (set: $breafast to true) (set:$hunger to ($hunger+5)) (alert:"you ate something +5 hunger") You made a simple breakfast, romen noodles... [[stay home]] [[get ready for work]]]

You look at your clothes ready to put them on (if:$friday is true)[ [[put on clothes]] ] (else-if:$bed2 is true)[(if:$tiredness>=100)[(alert:" your eyes are very red, you are very tired, maybe stay home?")]] (else-if: $prep is true)[ [[put on clothes]]] (else:)[ [[press them, inspect them, put them on]] ] (set:$from to "get ready for work") [[stay home]]

(set:$prep to true) You prep your clothes, press them, inspect them and hang them on your door, easy to reach and makes your morning go quicker [[Return to bed-> continue 2]]

(if:$friday is true)[(alert:"you got ready slowly")] (if:$count >=3)[(alert:"you got ready slowly")] (if:$from is "get ready for work")[(alert:" beause you prepped last night u are rested and leave out early")] (if:$from is " press them")[(alert:"you never prepped last night, you need to leave by 7am, it's now 6:44 am +10 tiredness")] You put them on, check the mirror, adjusted your hair, smiled and leave [[ go to front door->front door]]

(if:$tiredness<100(set:$tiredness to ($tiredness+10)) (set:$from to " press them") (goto:"put on clothes")

$name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash <div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/front door.png" alt="front door" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> You look back at your room and see how dirty it is... but you're gonna be late if you stayed any longer [[ lock the door and walk to bus stand|walking]] [[ check if you have everything, then close the door|check]]

(set:$from to "bed") <div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/apartment-bedroom.png" alt="My bed" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> You returned to bed, you choose rest over more work and just hope- bzzzz,bzzzzz,bzzzz your phone [[answer it]] [[leave it and go to sleep|evening sleep]]

(set:$park to true) <div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/park.png " alt="park" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> The air was cool, still holding the hush of dawn. I stepped into the park just as the sun began to stretch across the treetops, casting long shadows and golden light on dew-slick grass. Birds were already awake—chirping, flitting, claiming branches like old friends returning home. A jogger passed me, nodding. A dog barked in the distance, leash trailing behind as its owner laughed and gave chase. I walked slowly. Not for exercise, but for presence. The path curved around a pond where ducks drifted like thoughts I hadn’t sorted yet. I paused at a bench, ran my fingers along the worn wood, and sat. [[ return home->stay home]]

<div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/living room.png" alt="Mythos Start Picture" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> </div> I turned on the TV while sipping water the kind that tastes like routine. The channel flickered to life—some local drama rerun, the kind with too-perfect lighting and dialogue that felt like it was trying too hard. But I didn’t change it. I just watched. On screen, a woman stood in a kitchen, holding a letter. Her hands trembled. Her voice cracked. “You knew,” she said to the man across from her. “You knew and you didn’t tell me.” He didn’t answer. Just stared. The silence between them felt familiar. I leaned back. The toast popped in the kitchen. I didn’t get up. The scene shifted—rain outside, a door left open, the woman walking away without her coat. I watched her disappear into the storm, and for a moment, I felt like I was watching myself. Then the credits rolled. I turned off the TV. The room was quiet again. [[go to bed-> bed]]

I started with the kitchen. Dishes scrubbed until they gleamed, counters cleared of every stray packet and crumb. I pulled the fridge out, wiped behind it, found a receipt from last year and a magnet I thought I’d lost. I played music—Zee’s playlist, the one with the weird jazz interludes—and let it loop. The living room came next. I vacuumed under the couch, sorted the books, dusted the shelves. I found a photo tucked behind the lamp—me and Talia, blurry, laughing. I placed it on the windowsill. A quiet altar. The bathroom was war. Grime in corners, forgotten bottles, a towel that smelled like old rain. I scrubbed until the tiles reflected me back, tired but clear-eyed. washed the laundry, then the bedroom. I stripped the sheets, opened the windows, let the breeze carry out whatever lingered. I rearranged the furniture—just slightly—enough to feel new. I lit a candle. Not for scent, but for ceremony. By the time I finished i had picked up the laundry and it was late afternoon. The house didn’t just look different—it felt different. Like it had exhaled. [[ go watch tv]] [[ bed]]

(set: $check to true) you checked to confirm if you have your ID, your phone and debt card (set:$ID to ($ID + 1)) (set:$debtcard to($debtcard + 1)) (set:$phone to($phone+ 1 )) [[walk to bus shed-> bus shed]]

(set:$phone to($phone+ 1 )) Can't believe it's morning, i just closed my eyes 3 mintues ago... [[ bus shed]]

$name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash It's early 7:15am,the bus shed was overflowing—shoulders pressed, tempers fraying [[ take a taxi]] [[take the bus]] [[walk to the train station]]

(if:$cash>150)[ (set:$cash to ($cash-150))(alert:" you gave the driver $150 off your debt card") $name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash you stepped back, pulled out my phone, and called a taxi. The driver arrived in a beat-up Corolla, windows tinted too dark, music low and strange. you hesitated, then got in. He didn’t speak. Just drove. Past my usual turn. Past the blinking gas station. you asked if he was taking the long way. He said nothing. Then he stopped. Middle of nowhere. Turned to me and said, “You dropped this,” holding out my office name tag. you hadn’t noticed it missing. you took it, heart pounding. He smiled—just barely—and drove me the rest of the way in silence. you didn’t ask questions ] (if:$cash<150)[ (set:$tiredness to($tiredness +30))the driver says,"you dont have enough money for the fair!" so you walked to the office] [[ enter office| office entrance]]

(if:$cash>=450)[ (set:$cash to ($cash-450))(alert:" you gave the driver $450 off your debt card")$name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash I managed to wedge myself into the crowd and board the bus. It was humid, the windows fogged from breath and morning rain. you found a seat by the window—miracle—and watched the city blur past. A man beside me was muttering numbers. you glanced over. He was rehearsing a pitch, lips tight, hands trembling slightly. you offered him a mint. He took it like it was a lifeline. “Big meeting?” you asked. “Biggest,” he said. “They’ll either fund me or forget me.” you nodded. “Hope they remember.” He smiled, just barely] (if:$cash<450)[the driver says,"you dont have enough money for the fair!"so you walked to the office(set:$tiredness to($tiredness +30))] [[ enter office| office entrance]]

$name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash I turned away from the crowd and started walking. The train station was fifteen minutes through the market lanes. Morning vendors were setting up, steam rising from pots, voices calling out prices. Then I saw her—standing at the corner with a yellow umbrella, even though the sky was clear. She looked at me, then at the umbrella, then offered it without a word. I hesitated. [[ ask Why]] [[walk away ]]

$name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash (if:$friday is true)[(if:$ID >= 1)[welcome $name, [[enter office|work day 2]]] (if:$ID<=0)[(alert:"access denyed, please go to the front desk")(set:$tiredness to($tiredness+15))you reached for your ID badge and felt only fabric. Empty lanyard. your stomach dropped. The security scanner blinked red. A soft beep of denial. Behind me, the lobby buzzed with the low murmur of early arrivals and the hiss of the espresso machine from the café corner. “Forgot your badge again?” came a voice—dry, amused. you turned. It was Marlene at the front desk, already typing, her nails clacking softly against the keys. She wore her usual navy blazer and a pin that said “Ask Me Anything (Except For a Raise).” [[front desk]]]] (else:)[(if:$ID >= 1)[welcome $name, [[enter office]]] (if:$ID<=0)[(alert:"access denyed, please go to the front desk")(set:$tiredness to($tiredness+15)) you reached for your ID badge and felt only fabric. Empty lanyard. your stomach dropped. The security scanner blinked red. A soft beep of denial. Behind me, the lobby buzzed with the low murmur of early arrivals and the hiss of the espresso machine from the café corner. “Forgot your badge again?” came a voice—dry, amused. you turned. It was Marlene at the front desk, already typing, her nails clacking softly against the keys. She wore her usual navy blazer and a pin that said “Ask Me Anything (Except For a Raise).” [[front desk]]]]

She shrugged. “You looked like you needed something to carry.” [[take it]] [[walk away ]]

(set:$umb to ($umb +1)) (set: $from to "take it") I took it. I opened it once—just to see the light filter through yellow. she turned and walked away I never saw her again [[walk away ]]

(if: $from is "take it")[Walked the rest of the way with it closed in my hand. ] (else:)[You walked away ignoring that strange occurance ] [[enter station]]

(if:$cash>=1550)[(set:$cash to ($cash-1550))(alert:" you gave the machine $1550 off your debt card")(alert:" the train is too crowed so you feel claustrophobic +20 tiredness") (set:$tiredness to ($tiredness + 20)) $name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash The station was already humming when I arrived—commuters in pressed shirts, students with earbuds, vendors hawking coffee in paper cups. The train hadn’t come yet, but the platform felt tense, like everyone was bracing for something more than just the next arrival. I stood near the edge, watching the rails shimmer in the morning light. A man beside me was pacing, muttering into his phone. A woman clutched a folder to her chest like it held her entire future. Somewhere behind me, a child laughed—too loud, too free for this hour. Then the announcement came: delay. Fifteen minutes. Groans rippled through the crowd like static. 15 mintues later...-The train pulled in, screeching like it had something to prove. everyone boarded, bodies swished togther, virturally no space to move, i hate when people intentonally place they're hand in places they aren't supposed to...ugh] (if:$cash<1550)[the machine says,"you dont have enough money for the fair!"so you walked to the office(set:$tiredness to($tiredness +30))] [[ office entrance]]

(set: $answer to true) (set: $from to "answer it") you answered the call, its your supervisor supervisor- $name, she said, voice clipped. “It’s been all day. You’re weren't here. You didn’t call. What’s going on? I opened my mouth. Closed it. The words I’d rehearsed—migraine, family emergency, transit delay—evaporated. “I needed a morning,” I said. supervisor- Silence. Then: “You needed a morning?” I could hear her pacing. I imagined her in the glass office, blinds half-drawn, coffee untouched. “You were on the schedule. People were waiting. I had to cover for you.” “I know,” I said. “I’m sorry.” Another pause. Then, $name, if something’s wrong, you need to tell me. Otherwise, this goes on record. “I’ll be in tomorrow,” I said. she sighed. “Fine. But don’t make me chase you again.” Click. The line went dead. I stared at the phone. [[contiune my nap->evening sleep]]

<div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/celin-view-a.png" alt="another day/ night" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> (set:$from to "evening sleep") (if: $from is "answer it")[ Your evening just got bitter...] (if:$from is "bed")[You didnt answer... well i need rest so whatever, right?] [[sleep]]

(set:$from to' stayhome') (set:$stayhome to true) $name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash You decided to stay home you know what i'm not gonna let work stress me out or ruin my health!. [[ return to bed| bed]] (if:$park is false)[[[go to park->park]]] [[ go watch tv]] [[ clean the house]]

<div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/_480p_elevator_.png" alt="elevator/lift" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> (if:$count>=2)[The elevator doors opened ,You enter the elevator...The office was sleek—modern, minimalist, and the faint scent of burnt coffee drifting from the break room. but not quiet.the place was already alive in that hushed, high-functioning way. Keyboards clicked like distant rain.[[ continue-> return to desk]] ] {(if:$stayhome is true)[The elevator doors opened ,You enter the elevator... The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, and the hallway greeted me with its usual hush—carpeted floors, fluorescent lights flickering slightly, and the faint scent of burnt coffee drifting from the break room. It was 8:01 AM. Early, but not quiet. The office was already stirring. Desks lit up one by one as monitors blinked awake. Someone was printing—pages spilling out in rhythmic bursts. you passed the kitchenette where a coworker from accounting was stirring instant oats, humming something off-key. Her mug said “Mondays are for warriors.” It was Thursday. At your desk, the inbox was already bloated. Thirty-two unread emails. A sticky note on your monitor read:" see me- supervisor" Across the room, Malik was troubleshooting a projector for the 8:30 meeting, muttering to himself. Talia walked by with a clipboard, eyes sharp, lips pressed. She didn’t look at you. The air was thick with pre-meeting tension—people rehearsing lines in their heads, adjusting ties, refreshing spreadsheets. The hum of productivity, tinged with caffeine and quiet dread. you sat down. The chair creaked. your screen lit up. you exhaled. The day had begun. [[ supervisor's office]]]} {(else:)[ You enter elevator...The elevator opened onto the 14th floor with a soft ding, revealing a sea of glass partitions and soft gray carpet. The office was sleek—modern, minimalist, and unnervingly quiet. Everything smelled faintly of citrus cleaner and ambition. At 7:55 AM, the place was already alive in that hushed, high-functioning way. Keyboards clicked like distant rain. Someone was already on a video call, nodding silently, lit by the glow of three monitors. A delivery cart rolled past with boxed breakfasts—granola, yogurt, coffee in branded cups. you passed the “Wellness Nook,” where a junior associate was meditating with noise-canceling headphones. The HR wall screen looped a message: “Today’s focus: resilience.” At your desk, the chair was already warm. Someone had borrowed it again. you sat anyway, opened your laptop, and watched the company logo bloom on screen like a flower that never quite opened. then a silent notification pop up, ' meeting at 8:15 [[meeting]]]} (else-if:$bed2 is true)[The office breathes in quiet rhythm. Fingers tap keys, mugs steam gently, and the low murmur of conversation drifts between desks. Sunlight filters through tall windows, casting soft shadows across the teal floor. Outside, the city glints—glass towers, green trees, a blur of movement. At one desk, a figure in a red tie leans forward, scanning a screen filled with unread messages. Across from him, someone sips coffee, eyes narrowed at a spreadsheet, surrounded by a fortress of colorful binders. Another worker types with intensity, posture rigid, gaze locked on a glowing graph. Their coffee sits untouched, cooling beside a stack of papers. Near the wall, two colleagues stand by a potted plant, one gesturing toward a calendar, the other listening with arms crossed. Their conversation is hushed, deliberate. A clipboard flips open. A laptop chirps. Someone mutters about server load while juggling a phone call and a blinking monitor. Another adjusts a bar chart, tapping out a rhythm that syncs with the pulse of the room. Sticky notes cling to the wall like quiet reminders. The clock ticks . Pages turn. Coffee cools. And the day, like the city beyond the glass, begins to unfold. [[ continue-> return to desk]] ]

(if:$friday is true)[“Morning, Mar,” you said sheepishly. She looked up. “You’re lucky I like you, $name. That scanner logs every failed attempt. You’re building a reputation.” you leaned on the counter. “A mysterious one, I hope.” She smirked, then hit Enter. The screen flashed green. Somewhere behind you, the security door gave a soft click. “There,” she said. “You’re officially allowed to suffer another day.” The elevator doors slid open just as you turned. you gave her a mock salute. you stepped into the elevator. The doors closed. The day began. [[enter office|work day 2]] ] (else:)[“Morning, Mar,” you said sheepishly. She didn’t look up. “You’re lucky I like you, $name. That scanner logs every failed attempt. You’re building a reputation.” you leaned on the counter. “A mysterious one, I hope.” She smirked, then hit Enter. The screen flashed green. Somewhere behind you, the security door gave a soft click. “There,” she said. “You’re officially allowed to suffer another day.” The elevator doors slid open just as you turned. you gave her a mock salute. you stepped into the elevator. The doors closed. The day began. [[enter office]] ]

(if:$answer is false)[ Supervisor : $name. Sit down. You: Yes, ma’am. Supervisor: I called you yesterday. No answer. No message. No heads-up. You just didn’t show. You: I’m really sorry. I should’ve reached out. It won’t happen again. Supervisor: I hope not. Because this isn’t just about one missed day. It’s about reliability. The team was short-staffed, and I had to reshuffle everything last minute. That affects everyone. You: I understand. I take full responsibility. Supervisor: I need to know—are you still committed to this role? Because if this is a pattern starting, we’ll have to reevaluate your position here. You: I am committed. I know I messed up, and I’ll prove I can be counted on. Supervisor: Good. Then start by showing up consistently, communicating clearly, and respecting the team’s time. I’m watching closely, $name. Let’s not have this conversation again. You: Understood. Thank you for the chance to make it right.] (else:)[ Supervisor: Thanks for coming in. Sit down. You: Sure. Supervisor: I appreciated you answering my call yesterday. You said you needed the day—I respect that. But I need to talk about what that meant for the rest of us. You: I understand. I wasn’t trying to leave anyone hanging. I just really needed a moment. Supervisor: I hear you. And I’m not here to punish you for needing space. But when you step out without coverage, I have to reshuffle everything. That’s not easy, especially right now. You: I’m sorry. I’ll make sure it’s handled better next time. Supervisor: I want to trust that. But I also need to be honest with you. We’re in a tight season. If I start seeing gaps—unplanned absences, missed responsibilities—I have to consider whether this role is still a fit. You: I hear you. I’m committed. I’ll be proactive from here on. Supervisor: Good. Let’s treat this as a reset. But just know—if I’m forced to choose between stability and uncertainty, I’ll choose stability. That’s not a threat. It’s just the reality. You: Understood. Thank you for being honest. Supervisor: Don’t waste the grace.] [[meeting]]

<div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/meeting.png" alt="Meeting" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> (set:$hunger to ($hunger-5))(set:$tiredness to ($tiredness+5)) $name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash Scene: Conference Room. The air is cool, fluorescent lights overhead. You enter with your notepad. Supervisor is already seated. Jace, Dani, and Nia are at the table. Supervisor: Alright, let’s get started. We’ve got thirty minutes and a full slate. Dani: Morning. Jace: Ready. Supervisor: First up—client rollout. Dani, where are we? Dani: We’re on track. The final assets are in review, and I’ll push the updates by noon. Supervisor: Good. Let’s keep that momentum. Jace, any blockers on your end? Jace: Just one. The vendor’s API is throwing errors again. I’ve flagged it, but we might need a workaround if it’s not resolved by tomorrow. Supervisor: Noted. $name, I want you to shadow Jace on that. See if there’s a patch or alternate route we can use[[.|secret ending]] You: Got it. Supervisor: Nia, anything from the feedback thread? Nia: A few notes—mostly minor. One about the new login flow feeling clunky. I’ll send the details after this. Supervisor: Perfect. Let’s aim to close those by Friday. Anything else? (Everyone shakes their heads. Supervisor glances around, then nods.) Supervisor: Alright. Let’s move. Stay sharp, stay synced. [[ return to desk]]

Your phone buzzed, you looked and saw a message. " A category 4 hurricane is entering your country's waters, contries that are going to be affected jamaica, cuba, hati and the bahamas. its expected to make landfall on JA, its name is[[ melissa]]" [[continue.]]

(set:$hunger to ($hunger-15))(set:$tiredness to ($tiredness+10)) $name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash <div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/da-office.png" alt="office" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> (if:$bed2 is true)[ The space is quiet, with only the soft hum of machines and the distant clink of mugs in the break room. You power up your computer, grab a fresh cup of coffee, and scan your calendar to get a sense of the day ahead. By 8:30 AM, you're deep into your inbox, sorting through emails that came in overnight. Some need quick replies, others require more thought. You flag the ones that need follow-up and scribble your top priorities for the morning on a sticky note. At 9:00 AM, you join the team’s daily check-in. Cameras flicker on, and everyone shares updates. You talk through your progress and offer help to a teammate who’s stuck on a report. The meeting wraps up quickly, and you feel aligned with the team’s goals. By 9:30 AM, you’re in deep focus mode. Headphones on, distractions off, you dive into a presentation due next week. The slides come together smoothly, and you feel a rhythm building. You pause only to sip your coffee and adjust a few design elements. At 10:00 AM, a colleague pings you for a quick sync. You hop into a short call to clarify a few project details. It’s efficient, and you both leave with clear next steps. By 10:30 AM, you’re reviewing a document that needs feedback. You add comments, suggest edits, and highlight areas that need clarification. Once done, you send it back with a note of encouragement. At 11:00 AM, you shift gears to handle some admin tasks—approving timesheets, updating trackers, and submitting someone's travel request for next week. It’s routine but necessary, and you knock it out quickly. By 11:30 AM, you’re wrapping up. A final sweep of your inbox, a few quick replies, and you save your work. You glance at the clock and feel satisfied with the morning’s progress as lunch approaches.] (else:)[Scene: Your Desk. 9:03 AM. You sit. The chair creaks faintly beneath you. The meeting is behind you now—its edges still echoing, but fading. You open your laptop. The screen glows. You begin. First: the vendor issue. You trace the error logs, line by line. The problem is subtle—nested too deep for a casual glance. You dig. You patch. You test. It holds. By 10:12, you’ve drafted a clean report and sent it off. No fanfare. Just the quiet satisfaction of something resolved. You refill your coffee. It’s bitter, but warm. Outside, a delivery truck reverses with a long beep. You don’t look up. At 11:06, you catch a rhythm. Emails answered. Notes updated. A small idea for streamlining the login flow takes shape. You sketch it out—just enough to hold the thought. The clock ticks past 12:00. You lean back. Shoulders tight. Eyes dry. But the work is done. For now.] [[ get up and walk to the hallway for lunch|lunch]]

(if:$hunger<=35)[(alert:"you are hungry")] (if:$tiredness>70)[(alert:"you are tired")] $name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash should i buy something... the vending machine? or the store? [[vending machine]] [[store]] (if:$tiredness>=85)[[go to break room to sleep|sleep2]]

(set:$hunger to($hunger+15))(set:$tiredness to($tiredness-20))(set:$cash to($cash-450)) $name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash <div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/office-vending-machine.png" alt="vending i c ;]" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> You walk down the corridor, past the flickering light near the break room. The vending machine hums like it’s thinking. You press your thumb against the glass, scanning rows of foil and plastic. Chips. A sandwich sealed in mystery. You tap in the code, slide in your card. The machine whirs, then drops the package with a dull thud. You sit nearby, unwrap it slowly. It’s dry, but warm. You eat in silence, watching the clock tick forward, it's already time to go back to work. i thought i had 50 minutes left, but i guess sitting down and eating slow while starring into nothing does take time [[rest of day]]

(set:$cash to ($cash-1600))(set: $hunger to ($hunger+30))(set:$tiredness to($tiredness+15)) $name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash <div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/store.png" alt="store that sells food" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> You step outside. The sun hits your face like a soft slap. The corner shop is two blocks down, tucked between a shuttered bakery and a phone repair stall. Inside, the air smells like plastic and spice. You grab a drink, a snack, and something you don’t need—a pen with glitter ink. At checkout, the cashier nods without speaking. You walk back slowly, sipping, watching the traffic blur past. The office looms ahead. You pocket the pen. [[walk back to the office|rest of day]]

(set:$tiredness to($tiredness-50))(set:$hunger to($hunger-20)) $name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash You find the quietest corner of the break room—behind the supply shelf, near the unused printer. You fold your arms, lean back, close your eyes. The hum of the building fades into a low lullaby. Your breath slows. For a moment, the tension in your shoulders releases. You dream of nothing. Just stillness. When you wake, it’s 12:58. You stretch, blink, and return to your desk—lighter, but still a little fogged [[time to go back|rest of day]]

$name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash <div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/da-office.png" alt="office" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> (set:$tiredness to ($tiredness+40))(set:$hunger to($hunger-35))(set:$healyh to($health-20)) (if:$friday is true)[You return from lunch with a quiet sense of anticipation. It’s Friday afternoon, and the thought of your paycheck hitting later adds a subtle rhythm to everything you do. You refill your water bottle, stretch a little, and settle back into your chair, ready to finish strong. You check your task list and prioritize what absolutely needs to be done before the weekend. A few items are already crossed off, and the rest feel manageable. You open the report you started earlier and begin finalizing the last sections. By 1:00 PM, you’re polishing the presentation slides for next week’s meeting. You adjust the layout, refine the wording, and add a few visuals to make it pop. It’s satisfying work, and you feel confident about how it’s shaping up. At 2:00 PM, you join a short wrap-up meeting with your team. Everyone shares what they’ve completed and what’s rolling over to next week. The tone is light, and someone cracks a joke that gets a few laughs. You confirm your deliverables and log off the call with a smile. By 2:30 PM, you take a short break. A walk around the office or a few minutes of fresh air helps reset your focus. You return with a snack and a bit more energy, ready to finish the day. At 3:00 PM, you respond to a few lingering emails and clean up your desktop. You archive old files, organize folders, and make sure everything is saved and backed up. You check your inbox one last time and see the notification you’ve been waiting for—your paycheck has landed. By 3:30 PM, you glance at your banking app and confirm the deposit. A quiet sense of relief washes over you. You make a mental note of what needs to be paid and what you’ll treat yourself to this weekend. At 4:00 PM, you do a final sweep of your workspace. You tidy up, close your tabs, and jot down a few reminders for Monday. The office begins to quiet down, and you log off with a sense of completion. By 5:30 PM, you’re packing up, saying a few goodbyes, and heading out the door. The weekend stretches ahead, and you step into it with a light heart and a full online wallet. [[ leave work | leave work2]]] (else-if:$bed2 is true)[You return from lunch feeling refreshed and ready to tackle the rest of the day. The office hums with a bit more energy now, as more people have returned to their desks. You stretch a little, and settle back in. By 1:00 PM, you're back in focus mode, working on a report that requires data analysis and a bit of creative thinking. You toggle between spreadsheets and slides, pulling insights and shaping them into a compelling narrative. At 2:00 PM, you join a brainstorming session with a few teammates. The conversation is lively, ideas bounce around, and you contribute a few that spark interest. Notes are taken, action items assigned, and the meeting ends with a sense of momentum. By 3:00 PM, you take a short break. A quick walk around the office or a few minutes of fresh air helps clear your head. You return with a snack and a bit more energy(set:$hunger to($hunger+15)). At 3:30 PM, you respond to messages that piled up during the meeting. A few Slack threads need your input, and you reply to a couple of emails that had been sitting in your drafts. By 4:00 PM, you’re wrapping up the last major task of the day. You double-check your work, save everything, and send out a summary to the team. You feel a sense of accomplishment as you close out your tabs. At 5:30 PM, you do a final review of your calendar for tomorrow, jot down a few reminders, and tidy up your workspace. The office begins to quiet down again, and you log off, ready to head out with the satisfaction of a productive day behind you. [[take a taxi|taxi2]] [[take the train|train2]] ] (else:)[Lunch ends. You return to your desk. The light has shifted—less harsh now, more golden. You open your laptop again. The patch you sent earlier has been acknowledged. No reply. Just a green checkmark in the system. You spend the next hour refining the login flow sketch. It’s not urgent, but it’s been bothering you—how clunky it feels, how easily it could be smoother. You test a few ideas. One sticks. By 3:00 PM, the office is quieter. The usual chatter has thinned. You answer emails, update notes, clean up your task board. A small satisfaction builds—nothing dramatic, just the quiet hum of progress. At 5:45 PM, you glance at the clock. You could leave soon. You could pack up, walk out, let the day end. But you don’t. You stay. You spend another hour refining the sketch, writing a short proposal, attaching it to the system. No one asked for it. No one’s watching. But it’s done. Office Lobby. 6:52 PM. You step out. The sky is bruised with dusk. The air smells like warm concrete and distant rain. You walk slowly, not tired—just emptied. [[take a taxi|taxi2]] [[take the train|train2]] ]

Hurricane Melissa is currently a powerful Category 4 storm threatening Jamaica and the Caribbean with catastrophic impacts. Here’s the latest: 🌪️ Storm Status - Category 4 hurricane, rapidly intensifying and expected to reach Category 5 soon. - Wind speeds: Currently around 145 mph, with potential to hit 160 mph. 📍 Areas at Risk - Jamaica: Direct path of the storm. Authorities urge residents to seek shelter immediately. Expect damaging winds, life-threatening flash floods, landslides, and storm surge starting tonight(sunday night) through Tuesday. - Haiti and the Dominican Republic: Facing catastrophic flooding and landslides, especially in southern and southwestern regions. 🌧️ Rainfall Forecast - 15 to 30 inches of rain expected across Jamaica, Haiti, and the Dominican Republic. ⚠️ Impact Summary - Extensive infrastructure damage likely. - Long-term power and communication outages anticipated. - Community isolation due to landslides and flooding. If you're in Spanish Town or anywhere in Jamaica, please stay informed through local emergency channels and prepare for severe conditions. Let me know if you want help finding shelter locations or emergency resources. Sources: . post hurricane melissa, it hit at cat 5 on the west side of jamaica. most of the west os unreconizable, mandeville survived, my house survived with some roof zinc missing, i survived -sun,26 oct [[rest of day]] [[secret ending]]

(if:$cash>150)[ (set:$cash to ($cash-150))(alert:" you gave the driver $150 off your debt card") $name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash you saw it a lone taxi, i hoped in and it drove off, you were alone but what other choice do have,[[ walk home]]?, nope you're tired and stressed so you dont think straight... hope he doesn't hurt you.. [[ride home|home]] .] (if:$cash<150)[ (set:$tiredness to($tiredness +30))the driver says,"you dont have enough money for the fair!" so you walked home [[walk home|home]]]

(if:$cash>=1550)[(set:$cash to ($cash-1550))(alert:" you gave the machine $1550 off your debt card")(alert:" the train is too crowed so you feel claustrophobic +20 tiredness") (set:$tiredness to ($tiredness + 20)) $name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash You step onto the platform and immediately feel it—the crowd. Bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, the air thick with sweat and impatience. The train screeches in, doors sliding open like a dare. You squeeze in. There’s no seat, no space, just a wall of strangers. Someone’s backpack digs into your side. A woman’s elbow grazes your ribs. You grip the overhead rail, knuckles white. The train lurches forward. A man coughs. A child cries. The scent of fried food and perfume clashes in the stale air. You try not to breathe too deeply. Outside, the city blurs—graffiti walls, shuttered shops, a dog trotting along the tracks. Inside, time stretches. You count stops. You count breaths. At one point, someone shifts and you get half a foot of space. It feels like a gift. Scene: Your Stop. 6:49 PM. The doors open. You push through the crowd, step onto the platform. The air outside is cooler, quieter. You walk toward the exit, shoulders sore, head buzzing. You made it. ] (if:$cash<1550)[the machine says,"you dont have enough money for the fair!"so you walked home(set:$tiredness to($tiredness +30))] [[home]]

(set:$from to'home')(set:$count to ($count+1)) $name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash <div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/living room.png" alt="living room" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> You flick on the lights. The room glows dimly, warm against the fading dusk outside. You toss your bag onto the couch—it lands with a soft thud, half spilling open. You don’t bother to unpack. The TV clicks on. The news anchor’s voice cuts through the quiet: “—another stabbing reported near Half-Way mullings road. Police urge residents not to walk alone after 5 PM. Groups are safer. Stay alert.” You freeze for a moment, one shoe still on. The screen shows grainy footage—flashing lights, caution tape, a blurred figure being loaded into an ambulance. You stand there. Not because you’re tired, but because the weight of the day just shifted. Outside, a siren wails faintly. Inside, the anchor continues: “Authorities are increasing patrols, but advise caution. If you must travel, do so with company.” You reach for the remote, then stop. You let the broadcast play. Not for the details. Just to feel less alone. (if:$count<2)[[[ go to bed|bed2]]] (if:$count is 2)[[[go to bed|bed3]]]

that whole taxi and train idea is just a waste of cash. that lone taxi looks like a trap, the train too crowed even at this hour... you notice someone behind you in the distance, you walk abit faster and so does this person, you start to sweat, its dark and the only lights u have are streetlights, passing cars and your phone. he's speeding up, im not very good at running so should i [[continue walking and hope that person isn't after me|walk]] or [[run]]

He ran up to you and stabbed you on the side of the street, turns out he's a crack head.he went through your belongings saw your debt card and threw it away, then he muttered" thought you had cash..." you were stupid to keep walking, at least run..you died tho [[ day of a office worker]]

You tried, he chased, you tripped, he came in hot, you used you phone to hit him but this made him more aggressive and he stabbed you viscously on the side of the street.turns out he's a crack head.he went through your belongings saw your debt card and threw it away, then he muttered" thought you had cash..." well... you shouldn't have walked, you died. at least one good thing happened tho, when hit him your phone got his blood on it so maybe if the police wants to, they will find him...maybe [[ day of a office worker]]

(set:$from to 'bed2')(set:$bed2 to true) your bed is messy from last night, but its comfortable... you love it! <div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/apartment-bedroom.png" alt="My bed" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> [[sleep]]

(set:$bed3 to true) <div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/apartment-bedroom.png" alt="My bed" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> The sheets are tangled like forgotten thoughts—one corner kicked loose, another twisted into a soft knot near the footboard. Pillows lie askew, one half-buried beneath the blanket, the other slumped sideways with a faint imprint of a cheek still visible. The comforter is a crumpled wave, cresting toward the edge as if trying to escape the mattress entirely. A sock sticks out from under the blanket, like it got left behind. The other one isn’t there. Maybe it’s under the bed, or mixed in with the sheets. No one knows. [[get some rest->sleep]]

$name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash (set:$count to ($count+1))(set:$friday to true) (live:5s)[(alert:"today is friday, pay day, visit the bank later and remember to buy that drink")(stop:)] you woke up... or did you?, heaven doesnt have LED lights so yeah, your alive. your phone rang, it's alerting you... ready to go another day [[get ready for work]] [[ make breakfast]] [[go to work|work day 2]]

You arrive at the office at 8:00 AM with a little extra energy in your step—it’s Friday, and payday is waiting at the end of it. The morning air feels lighter, and the usual hum of the office carries a subtle buzz of weekend anticipation. You settle in, boot up your computer, and sip your coffee while glancing at your calendar. A few meetings, some wrap-up tasks, and then freedom. By 8:30 AM, you’re sorting through your inbox. Most of the emails are routine, but a couple need attention before the weekend. You reply to a few, forward one to a teammate, and flag the rest for later. You jot down your top three goals for the (text-rotate-x:169)[morning], keeping things realistic—no need to overextend on a Friday. At 9:00 AM, you join the team’s final check-in of the week. Everyone’s a bit more relaxed, sharing updates and weekend plans between task summaries. You give a quick rundown of your progress and confirm that your part of the project is on track. The meeting wraps up with a few laughs and a shared sense of relief. By 9:30 AM, you’re in focus mode, working on a report that needs to be finalized before the day ends. You review the data, polish the formatting, and add a few insights. It’s satisfying work, and you feel good about how it’s coming together. At 10:00 AM, a teammate messages you with a last-minute request. You jump on a quick call to sort it out, and within fifteen minutes, the issue is resolved. You send over the updated file and get a thumbs-up in return. By 10:30 AM, you shift to reviewing a presentation that’s scheduled for next week. You add comments, suggest a few visual tweaks, and send it back with a note of encouragement. It’s nice to help someone else finish strong before the weekend. At 11:00 AM, you take care of a few admin tasks—approving timesheets, updating trackers, and submitting a reimbursement form. You check your pay stub just to confirm everything looks right. It does, and that adds a little extra spark to your mood. By 11:30 AM, you’re wrapping up the morning. You clear out your inbox, save your work, and take a deep breath. Lunch is just around the corner, and the weekend is within reach. You feel accomplished, steady, and ready to coast into the afternoon. [[go to lunch|lunch]]

$name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash you step out, The evening air carries a soft hush, like the island itself is exhaling after a long day. There's a hint of salt from the coast, mingling with the scent of jerk smoke drifting from a roadside pan. The breeze brushes your skin with just enough cool to remind you it’s November, but the sun still lingers—golden and generous. time to... [[ go to the bank|bank]] [[ go to the supermarket and use your debit card|supermarket]] [[ go home]] (set:$cash to($cash+85000))

$name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash The sun is dipping low behind the hills of Colonels Ridge, casting long amber streaks across the pavement. The bank’s fluorescent lights flicker on, pale against the warm dusk. You join the line—third from the door—behind a woman in a faded uniform clutching her purse, and ahead of a man with paint on his boots, humming a tune under his breath. The air is thick with the scent of fried dumplings from the vendor across the street, and the occasional waft of diesel from a passing coaster. A baby cries softly in someone’s arms. The security guard leans against the wall, eyes scanning the crowd with practiced calm. Inside, the teller windows glow like portals. You can hear the soft murmur of bills being counted, the beep of machines, the rustle of envelopes. Someone jokes about “e long line every payday,” and a few chuckles ripple through the queue. You shift your weight, feeling the proof of the week’s work, the grind, the vision. A motorbike revs in the distance. A breeze lifts the edge of your shirt. You glance up at the sky—indigo now, with the first stars peeking through. It’s payday. You’re here. The line inches forward. You’re up next. The teller’s glass is smudged with fingerprints and the faint glow of the overhead light. She looks up, gives a nod. Teller: “Evenin’. Collectin’ pay?” You: “Yeah. Direct from work. Regular deposit.” She taps the keyboard, eyes flicking to the screen. Teller: “Name and ID?” You slide it through the slot. She scans, then reaches for the envelope—thick, folded, stamped with the company logo. You catch a glimpse of the amount. It’s not flashy, but it’s yours. Honest work. Teller: “You want it full cash or split?” You: “Cash. Got some errands to run.” She counts it out, bills crisp and warm from the machine. You pocket them, nod your thanks. Teller: “Alright. Stay safe out there.” You step outside. The sky’s gone deep blue. Streetlights flicker on. You hear laughter from the cookshop down the road, smell curry and charcoal. The money’s in your pocket, the night’s yours. [[ go to the supermarket|supermarket]]

$name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash <div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/sumpermarket-lineish.png" alt="shopping" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> The line snakes past the freezer section, and your basket’s light—mostly instant noodles, crackers, a few tins, and maybe a bag of bun. Payday’s not about splurging, it’s about stretching. You’ve got your eye on the quick meals: chicken-flavored ramen, spicy beef, maybe even a creamy shrimp packet if you’re feeling bold. Someone behind you is debating between Milo and Lasco. Ahead, a woman’s cart is stacked with bulk rice and diapers. You shift your weight, glance at the cashier—still scanning slowly, chatting with the bagger about last night’s football match. You check your basket again. It’s survival mode, but smart: easy prep, low gas, enough variety to keep things from feeling stale. You’ve got a plan—boi. You’re not just shopping, you’re strategizing. The line crawls forward. You’ve got your bills ready. The cashier finally waves you up. Cashier: “Evenin’” You: “i'm good. Just the basics today.” She scans, nods, and you’re out the door with your bag swinging, dusk settling over the plaza. The night’s quiet, and dinner’s already halfway done in your mind. (set:$cash to($cash-5000)) [[ go home]]

$name: hunger $hunger | health $health | tiredness $tiredness | cash $$cash <div style="text-align:center;"> <img src="https://mythos-1.neocities.org/gallery/living room.png" alt="weekend here i come" style="max-width:90%; border-radius:6px;"> you took a taxi (set:$cash to($cash-150)) and enter your aparment, you hit the lights. the apartment welcomes you, you made dinner(set:$hunger to ($hunger+35)) and prepped to watch a movie until midnight... you forgot your juice [[next]]

you've reach the end of this story, play it again trust me you missed alot of scenarios or play another story your review is alway welcome [[ story selection]]

health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location (set:$heat to($heat+20))(set:$water to($water-10))(set:$food to($food-5)) You swing your leg over the bike, the seat scorching from the sun, and kick it into motion. The engine growls, coughing sand from its vents, before settling into a steady hum. You ride forward, the dunes stretching endlessly, each crest revealing only more pale emptiness. The desert sun beats down, relentless, pressing heat into your skin and draining your strength with every mile. Sweat stings your eyes, and the horizon wavers in the shimmer of heat. Still, you keep riding—hoping for a landmark, a shadow, anything to break the vast white silence. Every turn of the wheels feels like a gamble against the desert itself. you ride for hours,something flickers at the edge of your vision. At first, it’s nothing more than a shimmer—heat bending the horizon into strange shapes. But as you crest another dune, you see to your left, half-buried in sand, lies the twisted wreckage of a vehicle. Its metal glints dully, scorched and broken, a scar against the pale expanse. The storm must have claimed it long ago, but maybe—just maybe—there are supplies inside and then you see to your right But then you see shapes: long, low silhouettes moving steadily across the dunes. A convoy. [[ride to the wreck]] [[chase the convoy]] (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location (set:$heat to($heat-30))(set:$water to($water-10))(set:$food to($food-5)) You step into the wreckage, the tail section looming like a rusted cathedral half-swallowed by sand. The air inside is stifling, heavy with the scent of scorched metal and dust that hasn’t moved in a year. Shafts of sunlight pierce through jagged tears in the fuselage, illuminating fragments of cargo crates and twisted wiring. Your boots crunch over broken glass and debris as you move deeper. The silence is absolute—no wind, no voices, only the echo of your own breath. A torn net dangles from the ceiling, swaying faintly as if remembering . You kneel beside a half-buried crate, brushing away sand The wreckage shields you from the worst of the sun, its broken tail casting a jagged shadow that feels like a blessing in the endless white. The heat eases as you step deeper inside, the air heavy but cooler than the open dunes. Near the base of the tail, half-swallowed by sand, you notice a narrow gap—just wide enough for you to squeeze through. The fuselage lies buried, its body hidden beneath the desert, but this opening beckons like a secret passage. You kneel, brushing away grit, and peer into the darkness. The space beyond is cramped, silent, and untouched since the crash. If you crawl inside, you’ll be leaving the sun behind, trading its burning weight for the unknown shadows of the plane’s belly. Supplies, answers, or danger could be waiting in that hollow shell. The choice presses on you: remain in the relative safety of the shade, or force yourself into the buried fuselage where the desert has hidden its secrets. [[ stay out]] [[go in]] (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

(set:$heat to($heat-30))(set:$water to($water+20)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus You squeeze through the narrow gap, sand scraping your shoulders as you push deeper. The air inside is stale, heavy with dust and the faint stench of burned metal. The fuselage groans under its own weight, every shift of sand threatening to collapse the passage entirely. Your flashlight beam catches jagged edges, twisted seats, and a half-buried storage compartment. There could be supplies, water, tools, maybe even weapons, you drink some of the water, but every step risks triggering a cave-in. The silence is suffocating, broken only by the creak of metal above you. If the fuselage collapses, you’ll be sealed inside with no way out [[go deeper|inside]] (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

(set:$bikeStatus to "overheated") health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location (set:$heat to($heat+15))(set:$water to($water-5))(set:$food to($food-2))(set:$stamina to($stamina-35)) You lean forward, gripping the handlebars tighter as the desert blurs around you. The mirage of the convoy still dances ahead, shimmering like salvation just out of reach. You push the bike harder, the engine growling, coughing, then screaming under the strain. Heat radiates from the frame, searing through your legs, the smell of burning oil mixing with the dry sting of sand. The sun presses down, merciless, and every breath feels like fire. Sweat pours into your eyes, blinding you, but you refuse to slow. The bike rattles violently, its metal skin trembling as if it knows it’s being driven past its limits. The temperature gauge spikes. The engine sputters, choking, threatening to seize. [[stop]]

(goto:"stop and look around")

(set:$waterbottle to ($waterbottle -0.5) With a steady hand, you pour the rest of the water over the metal. Steam bursts upward, sharp and sudden, filling the air with the smell of scorched dust. The bike shudders as the temperature drops, the hiss fading into silence. You place your palm against the frame—it’s still warm, but no longer burning. The desert stretches around you, quiet and endless, but for the first time since the storm, you feel like you’ve bought yourself a chance. The bike might run again. The question is whether you’ll wait for it to recover fully here in the shade of silence, or risk starting it now and pushing onward into the unknown [[wait]] [[start now]]

(alert:"You sat in the sun for 3 hours, your blood pressure rise, you should drink some water and find shade") Sitting unprotected in the desert sun for three hours can quickly push the human body into a dangerous state. With temperatures often soaring above 40°C, the intense heat strips away moisture through sweat and breathing, leading to rapid dehydration. Skin exposed directly to the sun burns within hours, while the reflected glare from sand intensifies the damage. As fluids and electrolytes are lost, dizziness, nausea, and weakness set in, progressing toward heat exhaustion. If the body’s core temperature rises past 40°C, heatstroke becomes likely—marked by confusion, disorientation, and even collapse. In such conditions, survival depends on finding shade, covering the skin, and conserving energy until cooler hours arrive. so guess what will happen to you now?

PIN Entry (set: $pin to (prompt: "Enter PIN to begin", "")) (if: $pin is "1234")[ Welcome! Access granted. (goto: "start") ] (else-if: $tries < 3)[ (set: $tries to $tries + 1) Sorry, wrong PIN. You have (print: 4 - $tries) tries left. (goto: "pin") ] (else:)[ ❌ Too many failed attempts. You are locked out. (goto: "Lockout") ]

:: Lockout You’ve exceeded the maximum number of attempts. Please restart the game or contact support.

(set: $tries to 0) (goto: "pin")

The bike sits silent beneath you, its frame radiating heat, the engine almost fully cooled and ready to move. You wipe sweat from your brow, scanning the horizon for anything solid—but the desert offers only dunes and shimmering emptiness. Then, the wind shifts. At first, it’s a whisper, a faint stirring across the sand. But within moments, the horizon darkens, a wall of dust rising like a living thing. The storm is coming fast. The air thickens, the roar builds, and before you can react, the desert swallows you whole. Sand lashes your face, stinging like fire. Visibility collapses to nothing—the dunes, even the bike vanish in the swirling chaos. The storm buries you in its fury, choking the air, filling your lungs with grit. You cling to the overheated bike, but the dunes shift and pile, threatening to entomb you alive. Now you’re trapped in the storm’s grip. If you dig in and hold tight, you risk suffocation beneath the sand. If you abandon the bike and fight through the storm, you risk blindness, exhaustion, and losing all sense of direction. [[- Stay with the bike ]]→ risk being buried alive but keep your only machine [[- Leave it behind ]]→ risk wandering blind in the storm, but maybe escape burial

you start your bike, sun beating you like hurricane winds. you press on [[ride into the desert]] (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

(set:$bikeStatus to "abandoned") health: $health (text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location You started to look around for traces of anything, anything at all. your eyes burn from the sand and you can hardly breath, the sun is setting but its heat is constant, your vision becomes blurry the you callapsed (if:$heat>=100)[(alert:"you are severly overheating")] (if: $water <= 15 and $health <= 25 and $stamina <= 20)[ (alert: "Your strength is critically low and you passed away!") (goto: " story selection") ] (if: $water<=25)[ (alert:" you are very thursty!")] (if: $health <= 25)[ (alert:"you are very weak!!")] (if: $stamina <= 20)[ (alert:"you need rest!!")] [[red?]]

the sun set looks red yes, but thats not it... it's you, your vision, it's turning red, you're weak and tired. you tried and that effort could have brought you somewhere but you just choose wrong and now you're here, dont[[ g]]ive up though there's always another path for you to take .... [[rest | story selection]]

(set:$bikeStatus to "abandoned") health: $health (text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location (set:$heat to($heat-25))(set:$water to($water-2))(set:$food to($food-2))(set:$stamina to($stamina+30))(set:$health to($health+5)) you survived, you feel extremly tired but you notice the darkness and the stars. the sun just left with the deadly heat but the night is just as ferocious with the cold. your body shivers and you find the strength to curl up, [[get up and try to move to somewhere|get up]] [[sleep where you are]]

(set:$heat to($heat-25))(set:$water to($water-2))(set:$food to($food-2))(set:$stamina to($stamina-30)) health: $health (text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location You push yourself up from the sand, body aching, throat raw, but the thought of lying still feels like surrender. The desert night is cooler, the stars sharp above you, but every step is heavy, your legs trembling from exhaustion and dehydration. The dunes stretch endlessly, shadows shifting in the moonlight. At first, the air feels merciful compared to the storm, but the silence is crushing. Each step drains what little stamina you have left. Your vision blurs, the horizon tilts, and the sand seems to ripple like water beneath your feet. You stumble, knees buckling, and realize you’re walking blind—no wreckage, no bike, no sign of life. The desert is vast and indifferent, and your body is failing. If you keep moving, you risk collapsing for good. If you stop, you risk never rising again. [[rise|move]] [[stay down]]

You drift back into uneasy sleep, the desert night pressing cool against your skin. At first, it’s quiet only the whisper of wind over the dunes. Then, a faint tickle brushes your ankle. You stir, half-dreaming, half-alert, but the sensation doesn’t fade. It crawls upward, deliberate, each step light yet heavy with intent. The scorpion’s legs scrape against your skin, a slow, alien rhythm. Its weight is small but undeniable, pressing into you as it climbs. The movement is precise pausing, shifting, then continuing, as though it knows exactly where it’s going. Your breath catches, every nerve screaming to move, but you stay frozen, aware that one wrong twitch could trigger the sting. The desert feels alive now, the silence broken by this intimate intrusion. You can’t see it in the dark, only feel its body tracing a path across you, a reminder that out here, even sleep is dangerous. [[stay still]] [[flinch]]

(set:$health to 1)(set:$heat to($heat+25))(set:$stamina to 0) health: $health (text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location Instinct wins,you twitch, jerking your arm. The scorpion reacts instantly, tail snapping down. Pain explodes as the sting pierces your flesh, venom flooding your veins. Your body convulses, breath ragged, vision blurring. The desert spins around you, stars above twisting into spirals. You collapse back into the sand, poisoned and weak, every heartbeat a countdown. (live:5s)[(stop:)(alert:"you're dying")] [[ story selection]]

(set:$heat to 25)(set:$water to($water-12))(set:$food to($food-13))(set:$stamina to($stamina-30)) health: $health (text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location You force yourself onward, legs trembling, lungs raw from sand and thirst. The desert night is mercifully cooler, but every step feels like dragging chains. Your vision swims—stars blur into streaks, dunes ripple like waves, and the ground seems to tilt beneath you. The silence is absolute, broken only by the crunch of your boots. You stumble, catch yourself, then stumble again. Your body is failing, but something keeps you moving—whether it’s instinct, desperation, or the faint hope that the mirage wasn’t entirely false. Hours pass in fragments. You collapse, rise, collapse again. At one point, you swear you see lights flickering on the horizon—maybe fire, maybe headlights, maybe just your mind unraveling. The desert doesn’t care. It will either swallow you whole or let you stagger into something unexpected. [[ follow the light ]]

You force yourself to stay put, heart pounding until exhaustion finally drags you back into sleep. The desert night is cold now, the silence absolute, broken only by the occasional hiss of wind across the dunes. Your dreams are jagged—half memories, half hallucinations. You see the storm swallowing the bike again,you feel the weight of sand pressing down. Every sound in the night feels amplified: the shifting grit, the distant cry of something moving out there, the phantom scrape of legs across your skin. When dawn comes, you wake stiff and weak, but alive. The scorpion is gone, leaving only the memory of its crawl.

(goto:"stay,")

(set:$heat to($heat+ 25))(set:$water to($water+40))(set:$food to($food+20))(set:$stamina to($stamina+20))(set:$crewStatus to " new found crew") health: $health (text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location You stumble forward, half-delirious, chasing the flicker of light across the dunes. Each step feels like it might be your last, but the glow grows stronger—no mirage this time. Shapes emerge from the storm’s aftermath: a fire pit, makeshift tents, silhouettes moving with purpose. Survivors. They spot you before you collapse, rushing to catch you as your knees give way. Rough hands lift you, voices blur together—questions, commands, someone shouting for water. The firelight paints their faces: sunburned, scarred, but alive. You’re dragged into the circle, the heat of the flames cutting through the desert chill. One of them presses a flask to your lips. Another checks your pulse, muttering about how close you were to death. Around you, their camp is ragged but functional—vehicles half-buried, supplies stacked, weapons within reach. You’ve found people hardened by the desert, and whether they’ll welcome you or test you depends on what you do next. (live:30s)[(stop:)(alert:"shortly there after, a helicopter appeared, the new crew seemed happy all smiles until their faces drop and so did the helicoper")] [[wait a few seconds| story selection]]

(set:$water to($water-2))(set:$health to($health-25))(set:$food to($food-2)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus (set:$waterbottle to ($waterbottle +5))(set:$ration to ($ration+3)) You crawl deeper, the sand pressing in, the fuselage creaking like a dying beast. Your light catches a half-buried compartment inside, sealed packets of water and a flare gun. Relief surges, but the ceiling shifts. A groan of metal, then a cascade of sand pours in. You scramble, clutching the supplies, but the passage narrows as the wreck collapses behind you. You’re trapped in a tomb of steel and sand. The supplies might keep you alive for a while, but unless you claw your way out, the desert has already claimed you. [[claw out]] (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

(set:$water to($water-2))(set:$health to($health-15))(set:$food to($food-2))(set:$stamina to($stamina-25)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus (set:$waterbottle to ($waterbottle -1)) You clutch the flare gun and the packets of water as the fuselage groans, then the world caves in. Sand pours through ruptured seams, jagged metal screeches, and the passage behind you seals shut. You’re trapped—buried alive in a tomb of steel and grit. The air grows heavy, every breath thick with dust. Your flashlight flickers, illuminating twisted seats and broken panels. The supplies are a lifeline, but the space is shrinking, the ceiling pressing lower. You claw at the sand, but every handful you move seems to bring more down. Panic gnaws at your sanity. Hours blur. You ration sips of water, clutch the flare gun like a talisman. The wreck creaks, shifting under the desert’s weight. [[keep clawing]] [[go deeper into the fusalage]] (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

(set:$heat to 30)(set:$health to ($health-15))(set:$water to($water-5))(set:$food to($food-2)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location The wreck’s tail rattles like a drum as you wake, the sound of sand hammering against metal. Morning light never comes—only a choking haze of dust and grit. The storm has swallowed the sky, turning dawn into a suffocating twilight. Inside the tail section, the air is thick, every breath filled with powder. The bike shudders under the assault, its frame vibrating as sand clogs vents and gears. You clutch your pack, realizing the storm is worse than the night’s silence—it’s a living wall, grinding everything down. [[- Stay inside the tail section]] [[- Take the bike and ride into the storm]] (if: $water<=25)[ (alert:" you are very thursty!")] (if: $health <= 25)[ (alert:"you are very weak!!")] (if: $stamina <= 20)[ (alert:"you need rest!!")] (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

(set:$water to($water-5))(set:$food to($food-2))(set:$stamina to($stamina-1)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location You hunker down inside the wreck’s tail, pressing yourself against the metal as the storm rages. Sand slams against the fuselage, piling higher, the structure groaning under the weight. Every creak feels like a death sentence. Hours pass in suffocating darkness. The wreck shields you from the worst of the storm, but the air grows thick, dust choking your lungs. You ration shallow breaths, clutching the supplies you salvaged. When the storm finally eases, the tail is half-buried. You’re alive—but trapped in a tomb of sand and steel, with only one narrow chance to dig your way out. [[dig out]] (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

(set:$water to($water-5))(set:$food to($food-2))(set:$stamina to($stamina-1))(set:$health to($health-25)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location You kick the bike to life, its roar swallowed by the storm. Sand lashes your face, visibility near zero, but you push forward. The dunes blur into shifting walls, the ground vanishing beneath wheels. Every second is a gamble—you could outrun the storm, or drive straight into disaster. The bike strains, vents clogging, gears grinding. You swerve blindly, heart pounding, until the storm thins just enough to reveal a jagged silhouette ahead: another wreck, or maybe a campfire. [[ride on]] (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

(set:$water to($water-2))(set:$health to($health-5))(set:$food to($food-2))(set:$stamina to($stamina-25)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus You claw at the sand blocking the passage, fingers raw, lungs burning. Every handful you move seems to bring more down, but you keep going. The fuselage groans, dust rains from the ceiling, and the air grows thinner. Hours blur into frantic scraping. Finally, you break through—a shaft of light pierces the wreck. You drag yourself out, coughing, half-buried but free. The desert greets you with silence, the wreck behind you now a sealed tomb. You’ve escaped, but the effort drained everything. you lay on the sun looking up on the sun, exhausted. then walked back to the tail section [[set up]] (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

(set:$water to($water-2))(set:$health to($health-5))(set:$food to($food-2))(set:$stamina to($stamina-25)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus You turn away from the blocked passage and crawl deeper into the wreck. The fuselage is a labyrinth of twisted beams and sand-choked corridors. Your light flickers across broken seats, shattered panels, and a collapsed galley. Then—you find it. A secondary compartment, half-buried but intact. Inside: a sealed emergency kit with bandages, a knife, and another ration pack. Relief surges, but the deeper you go, the more unstable the wreck becomes. The ceiling shifts, a groan of metal warns you: one wrong move and the fuselage could collapse entirely, sealing you forever. [[continue|..]] (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

(set:$water to($water-2))(set:$health =0 )(set:$food to($food-2))(set:$stamina to($stamina-25)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus You push deeper into the fuselage, clutching the flare gun and ration packs, determined to find more. The wreck groans around you, sand shifting above, every crawl forward tightening the tomb. Your light flickers across jagged beams and shattered panels—then the ceiling gives way. A thunder of sand and steel crashes down. The passage seals behind you, the compartment ahead collapsing in a roar. You’re buried, pinned beneath twisted wreckage, lungs filling with dust. The flare gun slips from your grasp, swallowed by the dark. Your last breath is shallow, the desert pressing in from all sides. The wreck becomes your grave, supplies entombed with you, the storm outside indifferent to your struggle. (live:8s)[(stop:)(alert:"you died from suffication")[[ story selection]]]

Mission Preview: Operation Ælfhwīt Organization Context - NUE (New United Era): Your nation’s military arm, tasked with securing dwindling global resources. - NEUCC (New Era of United Continents and Countries): The broader coalition, coordinating expansion and extraction missions across contested territories. Mission Objective Explore and map Ælfhwīt, the vast desert of Sarbra, and secure intelligence on newly discovered resource deposits: - Oil field (untapped, high-yield) - Gold veins - Copper reserves - Alumia deposits - Titanium deposits - A new, unidentified metal with potential strategic applications The mission was designed not only as reconnaissance but as the first step in resource extraction—a precursor to full-scale invasion if negotiations failed. Mission Setup - Convoy Strength: 15 personnel - Vehicles: - 2 Humvees (scout and escort) - 1 JLTV (armored transport) - 1 HEMTT (heavy supply truck) - 1 Bike (issued for rapid solo scouting) - Supplies: Enough to last several days in desert conditions - Political Context: - NUE offered Sarbra a trade deal for resource access. - Sarbra refused, claiming NUE demanded too much. - Ælfhwīt became the flashpoint—if the mission succeeds or fails, war is inevitable. Terrain & Threats - Ælfhwīt Desert: Once a seabed thousands of years ago, now a vast expanse of white sand stretching endlessly. Its emptiness conceals both opportunity and danger. - Environmental Hazards: Sandstorms, extreme dehydration, disorientation. - Strategic Risk: If you return with proof of resources, invasion begins. If you don’t return, Sarbra may strike first, igniting conflict. Mission Preview Tone This mission is a knife’s edge between diplomacy and war. You were sent to map and survive Ælfhwīt, but the desert itself became your enemy. The bike is your lifeline, and now your survival determines not just your fate—but the fate of nations. Tagline: "Ælfhwīt is more than sand—it is the spark of a global war." [[continue|desert survival]]

The sandstone temple shudders as the storm roars past its doorway, a living wall of sand and grit. You crouch inside, the bike sputtering behind you, and peer through the swirling haze. That’s when you see it—something moving within the storm. At first, it’s only a shadow, a distortion in the torrent. Then the outline sharpens: a skeletal frame, four-legged, taller than any human. Its back is grotesquely curved, arching like a predator ready to spring. The storm masks its details, the sand shredding your vision—so you can’t tell if it drags a tail or if claws extend from its limbs. But the shape is undeniable, unnatural, and terrifying. It moves with deliberate weight, each step carving deep impressions into the dunes, yet it doesn’t notice you. The storm is its cloak, its hunting ground, and you realize you’re watching something that belongs to Ælfhwīt as much as the endless sand itself. The temple shields you, but the creature is out there, circling, waiting for the storm to break. (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

(set:$stamina to ($stamina+11)) Inside, the air is cooler, heavy with dust and silence. You don’t look back. You don’t wait. You move deeper. The sandstone corridors stretch into darkness, carved with ancient symbols worn by time. Your boots echo against the stone, each step swallowed by the storm’s muffled roar outside. You find a chamber—collapsed ceiling, fractured pillars, a broken altar. You set the bike down, catch your breath, and then you hear it. Footsteps. Not yours. Not human. Heavy. Deliberate. Four-legged. They crunch against the sand just beyond the entrance, pacing slowly, circling. The storm masks everything, but the rhythm is clear—something is out there. You freeze, heart pounding, listening as the steps pause, then resume. It doesn’t see you. Not yet. But it knows something moved. Something entered its ground. You stay low, hidden behind the altar, the storm still raging. The creature’s silhouette never appears, but its presence is undeniable. The temple protected you from the sand—but now it’s a trap. If the storm clears and it’s still out there [[resume]] (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

(set:$stamina to ($stamina-12)) Outside, the desert is transformed: dunes reshaped, the horizon blurred, the wreck almost invisible beneath the storm’s deposit. The world looks alien, as if the storm erased the map entirely. The bike is half-covered, vents clogged, but still intact. Digging it free costs precious stamina, yet it’s your only chance of mobility. Supplies from the crate are nearly gone, and dehydration claws at your throat. The storm gave you shelter, but it also buried your lifeline. [[check supplies]]

bottle water:$waterbottle rations:$ration Supplies were critically low—$waterbottle small water , and $ration ration bar, a torn cloth, a rusty tool, and the flare gun with two shots left. The storm gave you survival, but it stripped away certainty, leaving you exhausted, dehydrated, and standing at a crossroads: stay near the wreck, your only source of shade and shelter as far as your eyes can see or ride out into the vast white desert, gambling on speed and hope. [[ride into the desert]] [[stay with the wreck]]

The desert stretches endlessly before you, a blinding expanse of white sand shimmering beneath the merciless sun as your throat burns with thirst and your stomach twists with hunger, the bike beneath you radiating heat while its fuel gauge hovers at half, a fragile promise of distance yet to be covered; you ride on, hour after hour, through whipping winds and shifting dunes, mirages taunting you with false visions of water and shade until despair begins to creep in, but then, just as exhaustion threatens to overwhelm you, the horizon breaks with the faint outline of clustered stone huts, smoke curling upward from hidden fires, and as you crest the final dune you see a remote desert village, its palm fronds swaying weakly in the wind, the sound of voices and bleating goats drifting toward you, the smell of spice and smoke filling the air, and relief floods your body as you roll to a stop at the edge of survival, no longer alone in the vast emptiness. [[ ride to the structure]]

You survive the storm inside the tail, half-buried but intact. As silence settles, you crawl out into the reshaped desert. The wreck groans behind you, sand spilling from its seams. Relief flickers—until you notice it. Tracks. Not human. Deep impressions in the sand, circling the wreck. Something massive moved during the storm, its prints half-erased by the wind but unmistakable. You realize you weren’t alone in Ælfhwīt. The storm didn’t just bury you—it masked the approach of something hunting. Every sound now feels amplified: the scrape of sand, the groan of metal, the phantom hiss of breath. The wreck gave you shelter, but it also drew attention. Whatever stalks you knows you’re here. [[next|options]]

you return to the area you slept and leaned on the metal behind you trying to make sense of what you saw thanks for playing, the next scenes are underway so in the meantime if you noted any bugs or typos or missplet words please, reach out so i can make this game better, also you probably want to play the other options [[ story selection]]

(set:$stamina to ($stamina+5)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location You leave the entrance behind, the storm still roaring outside, and step deeper into the tomb. The air grows cooler, heavier, as the sandstone walls close in. Your boots echo against the cracked stone floor, and the carvings become more intricate—spirals, symbols, faded depictions of figures carrying urns and baskets. This place was once alive. You pass through a narrow corridor, ducking beneath a collapsed archway, and enter a chamber that smells faintly of minerals and dust. At the center lies a broken pedestal, and beside it, a sealed clay jar—its surface etched with markings that resemble water glyphs. You pry it open carefully. Inside: damp sediment, and at the bottom, a thin layer of brackish liquid. Not clean, but drinkable. Enough to push back dehydration for another day. Further in, you find a stone alcove with brittle woven baskets. Most are empty, but one contains dried fragments—possibly dates or desert roots, shriveled but intact. You test a piece. Bitter, but edible. It’s not much, but it’s survival. you explore further and looked longer on the walls then The drawing you stumble upon in the tomb is unsettling in its simplicity yet impossible to ignore. Scratched into the sandstone wall with jagged lines, it depicts a skeletal, four-legged figure with a grotesquely curved back you don’t understand the meaning, but the intent is clear: whoever carved this wanted to warn, or remember, or perhaps worship. you try to decode the sentence you see before you. you saw that it was written three times in three different languages, and they read: When the wind howls and bones shift, souviens-toi—this ground was never meant for peace Ὅταν ὁ ἄνεμος θραύεται καὶ σκιὰρ ἑρπύζει, μνήσθητι—ἡ γῆ αὕτη οὐκ ἐπλάσθη εἰς εἰρήνην. honestly after seeing that drawing, and reading that you just want to go home [[go deeper]] [[return to the surface]] (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

(set:$food to ($food-1))(set:$stamina to ($stamina+1)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location You push deeper into the tomb, its dark but you push on. The corridor narrows, then opens suddenly into a vast chamber—twenty by twenty paces it seems, square and symmetrical. The air is damp, cooler than the rest of the tomb, and your boots splash as you step forward. The floor is flooded to ankle height, the water murky but strangely calm, reflecting faint ripples of light. Beneath the surface, the stones glow with a low, eerie green, as if veins of mineral or something older pulse faintly from below. The glow is steady, not flickering, and it casts the chamber in a ghostly hue. In the exact center of the room lies a single darker stone tile, regular in shape, untouched by the glow. It sits like an anchor, a deliberate mark, as though the builders wanted it to stand apart. The water tastes faintly metallic when you kneel to test it, but it is fresh enough to drink—far cleaner than the brackish jar you found earlier. Relief surges through you, though unease follows quickly. The glowing stones feel unnatural, purposeful, and the darker tile seems to demand attention [[next|b]] (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

The storm finally begins to break, its roar fading into a low hiss as the dunes settle. You sit in the tomb’s chamber. Outside, silence stretches—too complete, too heavy. The footsteps are gone, or perhaps only masked by the storm’s retreat. You edge toward the doorway, peering through the shifting veil of sand. The desert is reshaped, dunes piled high. No movement. No silhouette. Yet the memory of those heavy steps lingers, pressing against your chest like a weight. Now the tomb feels both sanctuary and prison.

(set:$comms to "static")(set:$food to ($food-1))(set:$stamina to ($stamina+6)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location The moment your boots press down on the darker central tile, the chamber hums. The low green glow beneath the water pulses faintly, and then—against all odds—your comms crackle to life. Static floods your headset, jagged and broken, but it’s something. The first signal since the storm, since the wreck, since losing your crew. It’s faint, distorted, like voices buried under sand, but the rhythm of transmission is unmistakable. You freeze, ankle-deep in the glowing water, listening. The static rises and falls, almost patterned, almost like words trying to break through. For a heartbeat, you think you hear a fragment—your name, or maybe just the storm echoing inside the device. The tomb feels alive now, not just ancient stone but a conduit. Was this chamber built to store water, or to amplify something older? The glowing stones beneath your feet seem to resonate with the signal, as if the tomb itself is transmitting. [[next...]] (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

Your voice fades into static, swallowed by the tomb’s stone corridors. The silence that follows is heavier than the storm outside. For a moment, you think nothing answered—until the echo of your own call lingers unnaturally, bouncing back in ways the chamber shouldn’t allow. Then the footsteps begin. Slow, deliberate, crunching against the sand just beyond the threshold. They grow louder, closer, until they sound as though they’re inside. You freeze, heart hammering, because the doorway is narrow—too narrow for the skeletal silhouette you glimpsed in the storm. It shouldn’t fit. It shouldn’t be able to enter. Yet the rhythm of its steps is unmistakable. Four beats, uneven, dragging weight across stone. The sound reverberates through the tomb, not just outside but within, as if the walls themselves are carrying it forward. You strain to listen, confusion gnawing at you: is it truly walking in, or is the tomb echoing its presence, bending sound to make you believe it’s closer than it is? The chamber feels alive now, the glowing water pulsing faintly beneath your feet, the darker tile humming with residual energy. You realize the tomb may not be bound by ordinary space. What stalks you might not need to fit through the doorway—it might already be here, drawn by your voice, by the signal, by the tomb itself. The glow beneath the water brightens for a heartbeat, then dims, leaving you unsure if you saw light or if your mind invented it. The darker tile beneath you feels warmer now, as though it is alive. [[look carefully]] [[RUN|run.]]

(set:$comms to "offline")(set:$food to ($food-1))(set:$stamina to ($stamina+6)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location you stood up to LOOK carefully at the two dark blue eyes approaching you, when you saw the snout and the claws you booked it [[run|pty]]

(set:$stamina to ($stamina-1)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location The chamber holds its breath as you freeze, ankle-deep in the glowing water. The footsteps blur into silence, but your eyes betray you—two dark blue lights, unmistakable, staring back. They hover in the gloom, moving toward you with slow, deliberate weight. Your mind reels. The doorway was too narrow, the sound too impossible, yet here it is: eyes, steady and unblinking, closing the distance. Whether they belong to the creature or something born of the tomb itself, you cannot tell. On the far side of the chamber, the corridor yawns open—wide, black, swallowing all light. You don’t think. You run. Water splashes violently around your legs as you sprint, each step echoing like thunder in the tomb. The glow fades behind you, swallowed by the dark, and the eyes remain fixed, watching, as if they don’t need to move to follow. The corridor consumes you. No torch, no flame, only the sound of your own ragged breath and the pounding of your heart. The darkness is absolute, pressing against your skin, and yet you keep running, because stopping means letting those eyes catch you. [[keep running!]]

(set:$stamina to ($stamina-2)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $locationThe corridor twists and narrows, your breath ragged as you sprint blind through the dark. Behind you, the sound is unmistakable—claws raking against sandstone, sharp and furious, each strike echoing like sparks in the silence. It doesn’t just follow; it hunts, slamming into walls as if the tomb itself is too small to contain it. The rhythm of its pursuit is chaotic—scraping, pounding, dragging—yet always closer. Every turn you take, the sound bends with you, as though the tomb is carrying it forward, folding space so the creature never loses ground. The air grows hotter, heavier, each breath tasting of dust and stone. Your feet splash through shallow water, stumble over uneven tiles, but you don’t stop. The darkness is absolute, pressing against your eyes, and still you run. The claws gnash louder, grinding into the floor, tearing grooves into the stone. It’s not just chasing—it’s claiming the tomb, marking it, making sure you know there is no escape. And then, for a heartbeat, silence. No claws, no scraping, only your pulse hammering in your ears. You don’t know if it stopped—or if it’s already waiting ahead. [[move feet move!]]

(set:$stamina to ($stamina-10)) The corridor spits you out into a chamber half-destroyed, its roof caved in so sunlight spills across the floor in fractured beams. Dust hangs in the air, golden and heavy, and for the first time since the tomb swallowed you, you can see without fire. The walls are scarred—long, jagged claw marks carved deep into the sandstone. They run in chaotic patterns, overlapping, spiraling, gouging into the stone as if something impossibly strong tried to tear its way out. The sight freezes you, but slowly, painfully, you force your breathing under control. The sunlight feels almost safe. Almost. Then you hear it. Breathing. Not yours. Low, guttural, uneven. It fades in and out, as though the air itself is carrying it closer, then farther, then closer again. Footsteps follow—heavy, deliberate, but wrong. They don’t echo naturally. They stutter, vanish, then return, claws scraping against stone in rhythms that don’t belong to any living thing. The weight of it presses into the chamber, but the sunlight doesn’t banish it. Instead, the light only makes the claw marks clearer, the gouges deeper, the room more like a cage than a refuge. You realize the creature isn’t bound by walls or doorways. It moves as it pleases, fading in and out of space, following the sound of your breath, your heartbeat, your fear. [[oh god please save me!]]

(set:$stamina to ($stamina-5)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location Your legs burn, each step heavier than the last, but fear is stronger than exhaustion. The tomb’s corridors blur into shadow and fractured light as you push forward, lungs tearing for air. Stamina is gone—your body knows it—but adrenaline drags you onward, a cruel tether that refuses to let you stop. Behind you, the sound is chaos: claws gnashing against stone, weight slamming into walls, breathing that fades and surges like the tomb itself is exhaling. You don’t dare look back. The thought of what it might do if it catches you is enough to keep your muscles firing, even as they scream. Every heartbeat is louder than your footsteps. Every breath feels stolen. The tomb twists, turns, and you stumble, splash, scrape against stone, but you rise again because stopping is unthinkable. The dread is no longer just fear—it’s survival, raw and primal, forcing you to move even when your body begs to collapse. And somewhere in the dark, the creature knows. It doesn’t need to chase—it only needs to wait for the moment when adrenaline fails, when your body finally betrays you. [[intersection!!]]

(set:$stamina to ($stamina+1)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location You skid to a halt at the intersection, lungs burning, heart hammering. The tomb splits before you: - Left: A narrow passage plunges deeper, the air colder, heavier, as though it descends into the earth’s marrow. The faint smell of damp stone drifts from it, and the silence there feels absolute—too absolute, like sound itself refuses to enter. - Right: The corridor stays level, turning sharply after a few paces. The sandstone walls here are scarred, gouged with shallow marks, not as deep as the ones you saw before. The air is warmer, carrying faint drafts of dust, as if it connects back toward the surface. Behind you, the claws scrape again—closer, erratic, fading in and out like broken radio static. The sound doesn’t belong to footsteps anymore; it belongs to something that knows you’re hesitating. Your body is drained, adrenaline the only thing keeping your legs steady. Every choice feels poisoned: - Left could mean safety in depth, or a descent into something worse. - Right could mean escape, or a trap waiting just beyond the turn. The tomb doesn’t care which way you choose. It only waits to see if you’ll survive the decision. [[left]] [[right]]

You plunge left, deeper into the tomb. The air grows colder, heavier, silence pressing against your ears. The corridor slopes downward, then twists upward unexpectedly, as though the tomb itself is folding space. The footsteps fade. The claws vanish. The breathing dissolves into silence. For the first time, you realize the creature isn’t following. Whether the tomb repels it or the path itself bends reality, you don’t know—but the dread loosens its grip. Light appears ahead. Faint at first, then stronger, until you stumble into a fissure where the tomb’s roof has collapsed. Sand pours in, sunlight spilling across broken stone. You drag yourself upward, lungs burning, and emerge into the desert air then lay on the sand. The storm has passed. The dunes stretch endlessly, reshaped, but you are free of the tomb’s suffocating walls. [[outside again, thankfully]]

(set:$stamina to ($stamina-5)) You burst into the corridor on the right, lungs tearing for air, and for a moment you think you’ve outpaced it. But then—silence breaks. Ahead, not behind, the sound rises: claws gnashing against stone, footsteps heavy and deliberate, breathing low and guttural. It’s turned. Somehow, impossibly, it’s ahead of you now. The tomb bends space, or the creature bends it, and your escape route is no longer yours. The sound doesn’t approach in a straight line—it fades, surges, stutters, as if the walls themselves are carrying it forward. Each scrape of claw feels closer, then farther, then suddenly right in front of you. Your chest tightens. The corridor is narrow, the air thick, and the dread is suffocating. You realize you’re not being chased anymore—you’re being herded. Every choice, every turn, every desperate sprint has led you here, to this moment where the creature waits ahead, its presence undeniable. The sunlight from the collapsed chamber is gone now, swallowed by shadow. You can’t see it, only hear it, but the sound is enough: claws dragging, weight pressing, breath fading in and out like the tomb itself is breathing with it. what now? [[fight it]] [[run back]]

health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location ''most men will pick this option and its a fair way to think, but if you are one of the few women who choose to fight, well i can garantee you're a survivor and life doesnt easiliy keep you down, keep that mind set and you'll achive alot in life'' by creator of mythos The chamber tightens around you as the blue eyes advance, steady, unblinking, carrying the weight of inevitability. They don’t just look at you—they claim you, as if the gaze itself is saying: I’ve got you. Then the shape resolves. A snout emerges from the dark, long and angular, lined with fangs that glisten faintly in the fractured sunlight. Each tooth looks too sharp, too deliberate, like tools carved for tearing rather than feeding. The body follows, draped in black, thin skin stretched taut like a veil over its bones. Every rib, every joint, every hollow is visible, printed out in grotesque detail, as though it has been starving for centuries. The skin doesn’t move naturally—it clings, folds, and shivers against the bones, giving the impression of something half-dead, half-starved, yet impossibly alive. It steps closer, claws dragging against the sandstone floor, the sound jagged and deliberate. The air grows colder, heavier, as though the tomb itself recoils from its presence. You feel the weight of its hunger—not for food, but for you, for the sound of your voice, for the fear in your chest. Your body trembles, adrenaline surging, exhaustion forgotten. The creature is here, undeniable, and the fight is no longer a choice—it is the only thing left. [[those ey-]] (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

(set:$stamina to ($stamina-5)) You turn sharply, lungs burning, and sprint back into the corridor. The sandstone walls blur past, scarred with shallow claw marks that grow deeper the farther you go. The air is warmer here, dust drifting in faint currents, as though the tomb itself exhales. The sound follows—claws scraping, footsteps fading in and out, breathing that stutters unnaturally. But this time, it’s not behind. It’s everywhere. The tomb bends the echoes, carrying the creature’s presence through every wall, every turn. You realize you’re not outrunning it—you’re running through its territory. The corridor twists, then opens into the claw-marked chamber again. Sunlight fractures through the collapsed roof, dust swirling in golden beams. The gouges in the walls seem deeper now, darker, as though freshly carved. You stumble, catch yourself, and feel the dread coil tighter. The creature doesn’t appear immediately. Instead, the silence presses in, broken only by your ragged breath. You know it’s near. You know it’s watching. Running back hasn’t freed you—it’s led you into the place it wants you to be. [[ahhh!]]

(set: $health to ($health-14)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location It lunges. You barely register the movement—just the blur of black skin stretched over bone, the glint of fangs, the sudden collapse of distance. Your body moves before thought, fists clenched, feet braced on uneven stone. The sunlight fractures across its face as it enters the beam, and for a moment, you see it clearly: ribs like blades, joints like knots, eyes like frozen fire. You swing. Your fist connects with something that should be solid—but it isn’t. The skin gives too easily, like punching through wet cloth over bone. It doesn’t flinch. It doesn’t bleed. It grins, if that’s what the widening of its snout means. Then it strikes. Claws rake across your side—not deep, but enough to send you stumbling. You catch yourself on the wall, fingers brushing the gouges it left long ago. You duck as it lunges again, its movement jerky, wrong, like it’s skipping frames in reality. You grab a chunk of broken stone and hurl it. It hits its shoulder, cracks, and the creature shudders, but not from pain. From recognition. It knows you fight. It likes that. You charge, shoulder low, slamming into its chest. It’s lighter than it should be, brittle, but it wraps around you like smoke and bone. You both crash to the floor, dust exploding around you. Its breath is in your ear—hot, wet, and whispering something you can’t understand. You punch again. Again. Again. The sunlight shifts. It recoils—not from your blows, but from the light. You scramble to your feet, dragging yourself toward the beam. It watches, head tilted, claws twitching. You realize it’s not afraid. It’s curious. You’re not prey. You’re a puzzle. And it’s not done solving you. [[focus!]] (if: $health <= 0 or $water <= 0 or $food <= 0)[ (goto: "Death") ]

(set: $health to ($health-4)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location The swipe comes fast—too fast. You duck, but not enough. The claws graze your face, burning across skin like fire, shallow but searing. The sound of impact follows, deafening: its strike slams into the sandstone wall with the force of a machine, like a bulldozer tearing through at impossible speed. The tomb cannot withstand it. Stone screams as cracks spiderweb outward. Dust erupts in choking clouds. The chamber shudders, then collapses. Blocks tumble, ceiling groans, sunlight fractures into shards as the roof caves in. You throw your arms up, but the avalanche is merciless—sand, stone, debris burying you in a suffocating crush. Darkness. Silence. You are alive. Somehow. The weight presses down, but not fatally. You feel the grit against your skin, the sting of the scratch across your face, the pounding of your heart. The tomb has swallowed you whole, but not broken you. [[ breather]]

(set: $health to ($health-8)) The rubble settles, dust choking the air, sunlight fractured into thin beams through the collapsed roof. You lie buried but breathing, every muscle trembling, every heartbeat loud in the silence. The tomb is broken—but not empty. You know why it fled. The destruction forced it back, the collapse too violent even for something that bends space. Yet the claw marks on the walls, the gouges in the stone, the way it moved through corridors—it all tells you one thing: it isn’t gone. It’s circling. It knows where you are. The silence is worse than the chase. Every creak of settling stone feels like footsteps. Every shift of sand feels like claws dragging closer. You realize the tomb itself is no longer your enemy—it’s your grave, and the creature is patient enough to wait until you claw your way out. Your face burns from the scratch, a reminder of how close it came. Your lungs ache from dust, but adrenaline keeps you alive. You’re trapped, but not finished. And somewhere in the dark, beyond the fractured sunlight, it waits. Not hunting. Not chasing. Just waiting to finish what it started. [[try to get up]]

(set:$stamina to ($stamina-5)) The tomb splits again, forcing another choice—this time crueler, sharper [[Go Straight]] The corridor stretches ahead, narrow and suffocating. The sandstone blocks are cracked, dust drifting in faint currents as if the tomb itself is breathing. The claw marks return—shallow at first, then deeper, gouged into the walls like warnings. The air grows colder, heavier, and the sound of claws fades in and out, never behind, never ahead, but everywhere. [[Jump into the Hole]] The hole yawns beneath you, jagged and raw, carved by collapse or claw. Dust drifts upward from its depths, faintly lit by fractured sunlight. It promises escape—or death. The air rising from it is damp, cooler, carrying the scent of earth rather than stone. You know the creature won’t follow easily. Holes are chaos, unpredictable, not part of its careful herding. But jumping means surrendering control, plunging blind into whatever waits below.

(set:$stamina to ($stamina+4)) health: $health(text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location You leap. The hole swallows you instantly, sandstone edges scraping past as you plunge into the dark. At first it’s vertical—your body falling, weightless, dust and debris rushing upward. The air grows colder, damp, carrying the scent of earth instead of stone. Then it shifts. The fall twists, bends, changes. Gravity itself seems to fold sideways. Suddenly you’re no longer dropping—you’re sliding, hurtling horizontally through a tunnel that shouldn’t exist. The walls blur, claw marks flashing past like jagged teeth, and the sound of the creature fades behind you, unable to follow. Light appears ahead. A doorway. Familiar—like the one you first entered, but broken, fractured, tilted sideways in space. You’re thrown through it, momentum carrying you out, and then— Sand. You crash onto the desert floor, rolling, coughing, lungs burning. The tomb spits you out violently, as if rejecting you. The dunes stretch endlessly, reshaped by wind and sun. The air is hot, dry, alive. You are free of the tomb’s suffocating walls. But not safe. You know it felt you leave. You know it marked you. Somewhere beneath the sand, in the broken corridors, it waits. And now it knows you can escape. Which means next time, it won’t let you. [[get up |outside again, thankfully]]

(set:$health to 0)(set:$heat to($heat+25))(set:$stamina to 0) health: $health (text-color: "deepskyblue")[Stamina: $stamina] (text-color: "red")[Heat : $heat] (text-color: "orange")[Food: $food] (text-color: "blue")[Water: $water] Bike: $bikeStatus Comms: $comms Crew: $crewStatus Location: $location The corridor twists and narrows, your breath ragged as you sprint blind through the dark. Behind you, the sound is unmistakable—claws raking against sandstone, sharp and furious, each strike echoing like sparks in the silence. It doesn’t just follow; it hunts, slamming into walls as if the tomb itself is too small to contain it. The rhythm of its pursuit is chaotic—scraping, pounding, dragging—yet always closer. you came to an intersction and before you could choose your path, you felt it a jerk, then you heard a slow heavy breathing behind your head, you feel your stomach burn. you look down to see four long claws coming from your stomach with your blood dripping off them, you go limp and faint from pain, you didnt survive because of your latency... [[ story selection]]

you get up dust off yourself, you feel very tired but your smiling, your're alive. thanks for playing, the next scenes are underway so in the meantime if you noted any bugs or typos or missplet words please, reach out so i can make this game better, also you probably want to play the other options [[ story selection]]

As you ride up, the village stirs with wary curiosity, the hum of daily life pausing as eyes turn toward the dust‑covered figure on the bike. Children cling to doorways, peeking out with wide eyes, while elders straighten from their shaded seats, their faces etched with caution and recognition of hardship. The men near the well tighten their grip on ropes and buckets, watching you with guarded suspicion, unsure if you are threat or kin. Yet the sight of your uniform, sun‑bleached and torn, marks you as something familiar but foreign—a soldier, lost and worn down by the desert. A few step forward, hesitant but compelled by duty or compassion, their voices low as they ask where you’ve come from, whether you carry danger with you, and if you need water. The air is tense, balanced between fear and hospitality, but the village does not turn you away; instead, they wait to see if you are a survivor seeking refuge or a shadow of war drifting into their fragile peace. [[next|c]]

(set: $water to 100) Your bike sputters to silence at the edge of the village, and as you swing your leg off the seat your knees nearly buckle, the weight of three days in the desert pressing down on you. The sandstorms still cling to your memory—walls of grit that stripped the world bare, leaving you blind and battered—and now, standing here, the relief is so sharp it brings tears to your eyes. Your throat is raw, every word rasping like gravel, but you manage to croak out a greeting, the sound fragile yet desperate. The villagers pause, their eyes softening as they see the salt tracks on your cheeks and the cracked lips that betray your suffering. One of them steps forward, a clay jug in hand, and though suspicion lingers in the air, compassion begins to outweigh caution. In that moment, the desert’s cruelty gives way to human kindness, and your rough voice, though broken, carries the truth of survival. they whisper amoungs themselfves, then a woman and a man approached you and helped you into a nearby house thanks for playing, the next scenes are underway so in the meantime if you noted any bugs or typos or missplet words please, reach out so i can make this game better, also you probably want to play the other options [[ story selection]]

you manage to get up, you looked around and don't see anything...yet thanks for playing, the next scenes are underway so in the meantime if you noted any bugs or typos or missplet words please, reach out so i can make this game better, also you probably want to play the other options [[ story selection]]