ok, here's the reposted parts.

again, the only reason i'm posting this is because i worked on it for so long.

~~~

Morning breaks over Emerald Springs. The sunlight filters through the tree line. While our attention is, naturally, initially drawn to a certain Hawthorne Manor, we can see that there is, in fact, just down the street, there is another rotting, unnecessarily large house. A sixteen year old boy is in this house, lying awake in his bed. 

His name is Sam Aberdeen, and whatever God was responsible for his creation did not smile upon his birth. Or perhaps it smiled cruelly. Regardless, Sam was unlike most every other young boy his age.  He is an albino, with pale white skin, white hair, and red eyes.  He wears sunglasses at all times, for three reasons.

1. He is very sensitive to light. This is common to people of his condition. This might seem to be a non-issue in the permanently overcast area in which Sam lived, but it was, in fact, difficult to deal with. With the sunglasses, he saw the world as others did.

2. He thinks it is amusing to constantly wear sunglasses. (This is the reason he tells people when they ask.) (People rarely ask.)

3. Behind a pair of reflective lenses, his eyes are barely visible, and their color is impossible to make out. (This, if he chose to be honest with himself, which he does not, is the main reason. He says this to no one. Not even himself.)

At this moment, Sam Aberdeen is lying in his bed, awake, listening to the sounds made by his house.  He starts essentially every day this way, and over time, he has honed certain skills. He can tell which sounds are made by people and which simply by the settling of an old house. Most days, Sam waits until there are no people-sounds, and then gets up.

Sam gets up, and goes to the kitchen. The house is large and mazelike, and Sam really sees no sense in trying to memorize rooms and hallways, and what order they go in. Instead, he relies on muscle memory-the power of routine-and memorizing landmarks. Oil painting. Olive green couch. Stained glass. Grandfather clock. That’s the order. He’s on the right track. 

He enters the kitchen, and is relieved to find that his father is not there. He has protocol for if he was, after all, he lives with the guy. Sort of. But that doesn’t  make his weirdly intense staring and all around vaudevillian antics any less personally unnerving.  In occasional bouts of wild, panicked frenzy, Sam wondered whether the things his father did were an elaborate ruse constructed entirely to thoroughly and continuously own him. That seemed unlikely though. Nobody had the mental fortitude to do that. 

Sam feels his internal monologue going in a dangerously self-indulgent direction. He has to stop actively thinking, or he knows he’ll be here all day. Sam begins to microwave a hot pocket.

There is a misconception about the paranoid, a belief that they spend every waking moment paralyzed by an inescapable fear and ill-ease. This is patently untrue. At any given moment, you are likely to find them doing something utterly mundane. Perhaps they are microwaving a hot pocket. And then the microwave beeps, and they are paralyzed by an inescapable fear and ill-ease.

The microwave beeps.

Sam is consumed by an inescapable fear and ill-ease.

He feels as if he is not alone in his house. And in a purely figurative sense, perhaps he is not alone in his house. After all, we are there. Speaker and listener, you and I. Observing him. (In a purely literal sense, he is also not alone in his house. Something is crouching silently in the secret, small room beside the kitchen, watching him through a small hole carved in the wall.)

Sam eats his hot pocket, and thinks of his friends. He has few friends, but there are few people he would wish to be close friends with, so he is not really upset. His two real friends, a sentence that sounds unimaginably pathetic when he actually phrases it in a concrete way, are Diana Zhu and Wren Hawthorne. They have been missing for the past few months. And yet, about a week ago, they just… showed up. Why? Well, he’s not entirely sure. And why hasn’t he gone to see them? He isn’t sure of that either, except that he sucks.  He feels the need to go see them today. In reality, he feels the need to leave the house.  School begins in about three days or so, but you’re very bored.

He walks into the garage, and looks at his bicycle. He considers whether to take it. It isn’t really a long walk. Still, he remembers the one hundred and fifty two Aberdeen family tenets, carved into three metal tablets personally by his father. The sixtieth tenet is “better safe than sorry,” and the one hundred and second is “bring your bike with you when you’re leaving the house, and wear a coat if it’s under fifty degrees, God’s sake my boy, you’ll catch your death.” 

He hops on his bike. He rides down the road. The sky is gray. What a surprise! He rides down a long, winding, cracked asphalt road for about four minutes before he finds himself in front of Hawthorne Manor. It’s a big house, bigger even than his. Unnecessarily large, almost bloated. A great iron gate stands before it, although it can easily be opened by hand. Sam stops his bicycle in a sudden, sharp motion, turning the bike to the side, and then slamming the brake. It skids slightly, and the sound it makes and the unnecessarily dramatic pose he finds himself in both amuse him. He finds joy where he can. 

He places the kickstand down. He stands up, and opens the gate. Walking slowly up to the front door, he wonders exactly how he’s going to explain the fact that he hasn’t visited his friends since they reappeared. 

 

Sam: Okay… Um… “Hi. Good to see you. Glad you’re okay. Oh, why didn’t I show up earlier? Yeah, I was just feeling kind of down, I was… Uh..”

 

The door swings open, and Diana appears.  You blink. That’s right, she has green hair. You forgot about that. It looks okay. She waves in a cartoonishly over-the-top way.

 

Diana: Sam! Sam! Hi!

Sam: Yeah? Hey.

Diana: I heard you talking to yourself out here! It is very good to see you! 

Sam: Yeah, dude. I mean, you’re one to talk, you and Wren’ve been missing since June! Like, gone. For two months. And, uh… I dunno, I came over looking for you guys a few times, and Wrens Grampa kept ignoring me.

Diana: We… Were not exactly gone for two months from our perspective. It is… somewhat complicated. But Wren will undoubtedly be able to explain it better. Oh, also we have something to show you. And you can meet Alex!

Sam: Huh? Alex?

Diana: Oh, yes. Wren’s cousin. He is… Coolish. He is alright. He is a little grumpy, but you will like him. Eventually!

 

Diana turns back into the house, waving vaguely at you to enter. You find yourself in the first big cluster of rooms in the house. There’s a kitchen sort of area, a dining room, and a living room sort of area, to the left. There are no separating walls between these rooms, and that might normally just be a cool, modern setup, but the dark, cramped hallways around it make it feel like a strange antechamber. Sam  turns to the dark hallway to the left of him, and holler something along the lines of “Yoo-hoo!” down the hallway. Diana awkwardly taps Sam’s shoulder.

 

Diana: Sam?

Sam: Yeah?

 

Sam turns around and looks at Diana. She motions behind herself blankly. Sam looks further back, and sees Wren, a guy Sam assumes is Alex, and a young woman wearing an eyepatch. Alex has headphones on, so he didn’t notice your embarrassing oversight, but Wren and the woman did. Wren is trying to suppress a laugh, and the woman is openly giggling. Wren is wearing a pink bathrobe, and a silk sleep mask on her head above her glasses. She’s holding a mug of coffee, and she looks comically tired. Her eyes are set deep enough in her head that they look like twin tunnels, and with the noticeable bags beneath her eyes, she looks… awful. The other guy, Alex? He looks a lot like Wren. He’s wearing a faded orange beanie, and oversized headphones. 

 

Sam: Hey Wren. Tired?

Wren: Why Sam, what could possibly make you think that? Could it be my obvious, deep, terrible exhaustion? My eyebags?

Sam: Yep. 

Wren: Yeah. I’m tired, man. 

 

Sam looks back at Diana, and sees her in the kitchen, pouring a bottle of diet mountain dew into a coffee cup. He squints, and sees that she is adding sugar to it. Why? 

 

Sam: Hey, Wren, Diana said you had something to show me?

Wren: Uh… yep. Yeah. We should… We’ve been, um, discussing this for a while.

Eyepatch Woman: Are you gonna go take him to meet The Oracle?

 

Diana turns to the Eyepatch Woman. She's shaking slightly, as she sips her mug of Mountain Dew.

 

Diana: That is the plan, Mrs. Hawthorne.

Mrs Hawthorne(?): Please, call me Alice. 

Diana: I am not certain I am able to not respect you.  I am sorry.

Alice: Aww, it’s alright.

 

Sam turns to look at Diana. He notices she’s wearing a green set of footie pajamas. Is she living here? He honestly doesn’t know what’s happening, and he’s very curious.  

 

Sam: Hey, okay, so… What are you going to show me? Also, does Diana live here now? Is that just…? 

Diana: Yes, I am living here. It is awesome! I am learning that I can live alongside Wren very comfortably, which bodes well!

Wren: Yeah, it’s great. 

Diana: They do say you should spend some time living together before marriage. Of course, it will be a long time before we can even begin thinking about that, but it is good to know.

Wren: Deen, that is probably the sweetest thing you’ve ever said. 

Diana: I just assumed it was inevitable. 

Sam: Look, that's great, but… why? Why are you here? 

Wren: We’ll go and show you. But, um, Alex? Would you like to come with us? 

 

Alex looks up briefly, and takes his headphones off. He waits expectantly, and Wren sighs in exasperation. She repeats her question, and Alex gestures vaguely at his laptop.

 

Alex: I’m watching ENA.

 

Diana nods in understanding. And thus, Sam, Alex, and Wren set off. 

They head down a hallway that Sam doesn’t remember ever going down before. However, most hallways in Hawthorne Manor are identical. Long, winding, dark, and needlessly narrow corridors. Doors pop up infrequently, as well as various family portraits, which curiously depict several family units. Wren has her phone out, and it seems she’s using a GPS app to navigate… In her own house. Sam nods. He can see that. 

The group turns a sharp corner, and ends up at the foot of a large staircase. It’s carpeted an ugly, dark shade of red, and there’s a black, iron bannister. Sam perks up with interest, he doesn’t think he’s ever been upstairs in this house before.

 

Sam: Uh, what’s up there?

Wren: Guest rooms and rec rooms, mostly. We just found it recently, While Diana’s parents were looking for my Grandfather. He went missing around when Deen, Alex, and I did. But, well, to be perfectly honest, he’s a jerk. He sucks. We didn’t actually care that much when we couldn’t find him. But, we found this sweet pool room! It had a minifridge, and we stocked it with, like, soda and stuff. 

 

Sam nods, and the three of them walk up to a closed door. Diana knocks twice, and a booming cry emanates from the other side. 

 

???: ENTER, YOUNG HEROES!!! THE POOL ROOM AWAITS! 

 

Sam cringes in discomfort. That’s a loud voice. Diana and Wren open the door, and Sam steps in. The pool room is nice, with low, soft light, a massive window, pool room, obviously, and a giant figure wearing a green robe. 

 

Sam: WHAT

Diana: Yes, that is the Oracle. 

Sam: WHAT

Wren: Now, this is probably a bit of a shock, which is understandable, but, well, you see-

Sam: Is that a… Is that a giant bug person?

Oracle: “PERSON” WOULD BE AN INCORRECT TERM, BUT YES! HELLO, KNIGHT! 

Sam: Knight? 

Oracle: YES. HELLO, SAMUEL ABERDEEN. PREPARE FOR YOUR EYES TO BE OPENED, MY BOY!

Sam: Who are you?

Oracle: I AM THE ORACLE! LONG AGO, I WAS CURSED TO WANDER THIS HUMBLE EARTH, FOREVER STRIVING TO SAVE IT, WHILE BEING UNABLE TO DO SO MYSELF. I HAVE BEEN FORCED TO PROPHESY TO HEROES, AND WATCH THEM FALL ENDLESSLY. BUT I NEVER STOP SEARCHING FOR NEW HEROES TO AID! AND YOU, MY BOY!!! YOU ARE ONE OF THE SIX HEROES I NOW SEEK TO TRAIN! I HAVE A GOOD FEELING ABOUT THIS TIME!

 

The creature keeps yelling. Sam starts to rub his forehead. He can feel a headache developing. He takes off the sunglasses and rubs his eyes as well. 

 

Sam: Look, man… Could you be a little quieter?

Oracle: HM?

Sam: Look, I just, I’m getting a headache. So if you could tone it down-

 

The Oracle lashes out its black, carapace-covered arm, shining in the fluorescent light, its pupil-less white eyes glinting. It speaks again, still loudly, but no longer yelling in any case.

 

Oracle: Certainly, Knight!!! I was unaware your constitution was so pitiably frail!

Sam: Well, hang on-

Oracle: Hush and shush, boy! I was simply used to talking loudly, as I have been alone in the tunnels below this house for years! But it is certainly no large overstep to request that I change my behavior to better suit your cringing, pathetic selfhood!

Sam: :|

Oracle: Let us catch you up to speed, pal! That means you and Diana as well, Wren!

 

Wren nods. Diana wanders over to the pool table and picks up a ball. She absent minded flicks it, only to cringe in visible pain as her fingernail breaks. 

 

Wren: Okay. Sam, we were hanging out, and Diana was talking about her… Um, do you remember if Deen ever told you about her “Alien Dreams?”

Sam:... Yeah, I think so? Dreams about some alien guy, like, experimenting on her?

Diana: Yes, his name is Hastur, and he is real!

Sam:... figures. 

Wren: Anyway, we went down in the woods, and met this giant monster, and a college student looking for their girlfriend, and we got wrapped up in this bizarre mythic quest to look for their girlfriend… and we… uh?

Diana: Oh, and the tiny alien in my brain made me live out my worst nightmare!

 

Sam has essentially given up on following the plotline at this point.

 

Oracle: Oh yes, and then you met me!

Wren: Yeah, thanks, we met you, and you beat up our parents, and then we went to another world.

Diana: And then it turned out that a very little man had kidnapped Lillie-

Sam: Who?

Wren: Ten’s girlfriend.

Sam: Ten?

Diana: The college student.

Wren: Oh, uh, Alex was there too. The whole time.

 

Sam blinks. They really suck at summarizing.

 

Wren: Oh, it turned out the little man was secretly, like, a… a goblin, maybe?

Diana: Maybe a goblin. I assumed a gray alien, but, the ears, so…

Wren: And then I died. And we had a funeral for my dead body.

Diana: For context, this is while we were in another universe. We called it Garbage Narnia.

Wren: Yeah, and it worked as a reverse Narnia, like, ok, you know how we were gone for a couple months from your perspective? For us, that was about 5 hours. 

Diana: And then it turned out that the tiny man and the monster were ex-lovers!

Wren: No man, they weren’t.

Diana: That is my headcanon.

Sam: Dude, I’m so, so lost.

 

Sam is so, so lost. 

 

Oracle: Fear not, Knight! It is unimportant!  The important part is this: You are a hero, and so are your friends. You are one of six heroes. There have been six heroes before you. And six before that. And before that. For generations and generations. Out of every seven generations, six such heroes are born, and as youth, they come into their power and face their Dread Enemy. While the Six themselves vary widely, they always fit the same roles. The KNIGHT. The SEER. The SCRIBE. The HEIR. THE APOSTATE! THE HERMIT!!! YES! THE SIX! I have trained the Six, time and time again! And time and time again, they either fall in combat, or to the insidious corruption of our Dark Adversary, APOPHIS!

 

Sam shakes his head.

 

Sam: Who?

Diana: He is a giant eyeball God made of evil. He is terrible, and I hate him. I hope He dies. 

Wren: Yeah. He deadnamed me. Which was, um, really just, evil in a weirdly childish way. Like, that sucks, but… in such a dumb way. Did he use supernatural powers to ascertain my deadname? If so, uh, why?

 

The Oracle sighs, and nods slightly. It reaches into a large pocket, and pulls out a small metal shell. It rolls up its sleeve, and holds the shell up to its arm. A small hole opens up in the carapace of its arm, and the shell opens, and black liquid pours into the arm-hole. The Oracle makes a sound similar to someone knocking back a shot of liquor. 

 

Oracle: Yes, if you wish to understand the nature of Apophis, that is what you must understand. Apophis is ancient. He is Tohu Wa-Bohu, endless nothingness, sentient hate and chaos. He is timeless and all-powerful. He wants to destroy or subvert everything good. But he is also an idiot, or a child, more accurately. Listen: imagine a young child walking down the road. The child sees a dog on the sidewalk. Now, there are many things the child might do: Perhaps he will pet the dog. Perhaps he will walk past it. And perhaps… Perhaps the child will kick the dog. There is great, innocent cruelty in children. But the choice is his.

 

Sam nods, despite not understanding, not even slightly.

 

Oracle: Well now, imagine another child. Let us call this child Apophis. He, too, is walking down the road.  He, too, sees a dog. But no matter what, no matter the extenuating circumstances, no matter how long He walks, or how many dogs He passes, He will never do anything but kick it. If the dog is before him, He will kick it. If the dog is across the street, he will run across, and kick it.  If the dog turns and runs, He will pursue it until He has worn it down, and then kick it. If there is no dog, he will walk until he finds one. Perhaps He could choose not to kick the dog, but it seems altogether very likely that he cannot conceive any other course of action. He simply cannot do anything else.

Sam: Apophis is the kid?

Oracle: Yes.

Sam: And the dog is?

Oracle: Everything else.

Sam: And how are we, actual teenagers, supposed to do this? To fight what I assume is an actual god?

Oracle: Not a god, a God. 

Sam: What?

Oracle: Capital G. 

Sam: How did you kn-

Oracle: Listen, boy! There are great powers awaiting you! Powers that can only be achieved through great suffering. And, unfortunately, suffering is inherent in your pathway. Already, Diana Zhu, THE SEER, is capable of premonitions! VISIONS OF THE FUTURE! And you will have power as well! And, of course, you will not have to face the servants of Apophis. While few are foolish enough to directly support his goal of destruction, many ally with him for their own selfish gain! And, of course, prices must be paid, even for your gifts and powers. Like your blindness, Knight!

Sam: I’m… not blind. I’m just wearing sunglasses.

Oracle: Ah. Well. In that case, be prepared to pay. 

Sam: But, how do we even start fighting this guy?

Oracle: Find the other two heroes! Their names are Ryan Hartley, and Tracy Peixoto!

 

Sam pauses in thought. He knows Tracy, vaguely. They’re decidedly strange, but altogether, he has no issue with them. Ryan, however, is essentially just a schoolyard bully. He seems to delight in causing distress to Sam and his friends, particularly to Wren, in a decidedly obsessive way.

 

Oracle: And NOW! Now, heroes, I must take my leave! But not without first solemnly warning you of the danger of falling to corruption! Many beings wish to deceive you, but do not let this frighten you! Practice scrutiny, but do not let your discernment sour into paranoia! And above all, trust one another!

 

The Oracle doesn’t bother to attempt to listen to any of Sam’s continued protests. It leaps in a single bound toward the pool table. Grabbing a cue, it stands rigid in the center of the room, and pole vaults away. The pool cue snaps into uneven pieces. It shatters the glass window, slamming into the ground below. It stands up, seemingly unaffected by the fall, and it runs into the nearby forest and out of sight. 

Sam sits down in a nearby chair. 

Sam thinks for a bit on the information just delivered to him in an utterly artless bout of exposition. He realizes what he really needs is some sort of distraction. He looks around the room, wondering what to do. Then he realizes it's a pool room.

He feels really dumb. 

Sam: Okay... It doesn't sound like there's really anything we can do to "save the world," or whatever right now. So, you guys wanna... I dunno, play pool? To keep our minds off our great responsibility or.. whatever.

Wren: I don't know how to play pool. I think my Grandpa had this table put in more as furniture than anything.

Diana: The Oracle shattered the pool cue when it pole vaulted out the window! How can we play with one stick?

Sam: Well... 

Diana: Also, I do not know how to play pool.

Sam: Well, yeah man, me neither. I figured we'd just... I dunno, make something up. Something fun. I dunno, I don't think you can play pool with three people anyway? So…

Wren nods.

Wren: Okay, yeah. That sounds fun. 

Sam sets the pool cue along the center of the table, on the long side. Diana sees what he is doing, taking the parts of the cue, and lining them up as well, setting a barricade across the middle of the pool table. The three all grab the balls and place them on a recliner. Sam takes the eight ball, and places it in the center of the barricade. Each grabs 5 balls.  

Sam walks over to the minifridge in the corner of the room. He opens it, and sees it's filled with generic diet cola. He pops open a can, and takes a sip. It isn't bad, but it's not good. Diana whispers something to Wren. She nods enthusiastically. This can't be good. Diana leaps over to the minifridge, grabbing a pair of scissors from the counter beside the fridge, and grabs a can. She punctures a hole in the can, and with lightning speed, begins chugging the diet soda through the hole, as Wren giggles and eggs her on. Sam snorts. Weirdos. 

Wren strolls over, and pulls out a can, and drinks it how normal humans do. She flips on the radio. It's a commercial.

Advertisers voice: Would you fight for brand loyalty? Would you win a war for brand loyalty? Would you raze a field, burn it, salt it, guard over it to ensure it never gave life again? Would you view the world as you were asked? Would you uncover the secrets hidden before thine very eyes? Would you read newspaper articles, counting each misplacement of letters, each seemingly innocuous phrase that is just... slightly off? Would you kill? Would you steal? Risk imprisonment, even death? Pepsi-Co. What would you do for brand loyalty? 

Sam shakes his head. They run that one too often.  

Sam: Ready to play? 

Wren: Sure! 

The three walk back to the table, grabbing the balls and standing about eight feet away from the table. Each takes one ball and throws it over the barricade, and tries to throw it in the holes in the side. Each fails, one at a time, repeatedly, for about five minutes. Sam runs back and grabs all the balls out of the table a few times. Eventually Wren makes one in. 

Wren: This is basically just cornhole, but really stupid, right?

YOU: Basically, yeah.

On the radio, Diana's dad is talking. It must be his show. He's talking about some political protest outside the Town Hall. Held by the Order of the Seventh Tongue, a party that is weirdly popular around here, despite being bizarre. 

Diana: More demonstrations?

Wren: It is around time to vote for Mayor. 

Diana: Sam, is your dad going to run for reelection again?

Sam: Yeah, probably? I mean, I doubt anyone else will run?

Diana: Well, The Seventh Tongue will run someone.

Sam: Yeah, but they're actual raving lunatics. Like, I think they're a cult?

Diana: Definitely!!!  I sometimes wonder if they are just, like, intentionally there to distract people from what the government is really doing? I mean, they wear cloaks and hoods, and conduct animal sacrifice, right? 

Wren: See, the thing about Deen being a "seer" or whatever, is you really have to wonder, is this thing she told me true, and she knows with her magic powers? Or is this just another product of the free word association that is the thought process of her beautiful brain?

Diana: Thank you for calling my brain beautiful, but I will remember the veiled insults you have sent in my direction, and someday you will have to answer for them (<3)

Wren: Understood (<3)

They return to the "game." Wren gets a few more in. Diana accuses her of cheating due to "being tall." Wren replies something along the lines of "Tough luck, Buddy." Sam glances up at a clock. It's about 11:30, so he’s killed a little more time than he'd meant to. The others have lost all interest in the game, and Diana has made a sizable hole in the drywall with a ball. 

Sam decides to ask about the progress related to the whole “fighting evil god” thing, since the game seems to basically be over.

Sam: Okay... I'm assuming you had planned that whole talk with the Oracle, to, to haze me, or whatever? 

Wren: I wouldn't put it that way? But yeah, that was a conversation we had... I guess, anticipated. For a while. 

Diana: Yes, it was.. planned is the wrong word. It was vaguely anticipated! We did not plan on telling you today, but you had questions.

Sam: I guess it was right on time, it looks like the oracle had... Places to be.

He briefly turns his gaze on the broken window.

Wren: Yeah, I'm not sure it did? I think it may have done that for fun. 

Diana: It looked fun!

Sam: Okay. So, have you... Have you taken any... steps? At the whole "killing evil gods" thing?

Diana: Well... No. Not exactly.

Wren: We really just got back from a pretty big adventure. Although "adventure" might be the wrong word. Nightmare vision quest.  It's kind of tiring to do something like that. We're just... I dunno.

Diana: We are relaxing while we can. We are waiting for school to start. Then we can, I do not know, begin recruiting or whatever. I mean, why should we start now? We would have to talk to Ryan...

Wren: Yeah, he's a huge creep. Tracy is okay though.

Diana: Yeah, I called them to tell them that they are destined to join us and become a hero.

Sam: Is that a joke, or?

Diana: Nope!

Wren: Yeah, we face-timed. They're cool with it? 

Sam: Okay... Wait, you have their phone number? How?

Diana: Ehhh... Don't remember?

Sam and the others leave the pool room in a state of disarray, walking out into the hallway. They retrace their steps fairly quickly, and primarily in silence, until they reach a corner.

Diana: Sorry, is there anything in particular you want to do next?

Wren: Not really. Lunch?

Sam: Lunch? Really?

Wren continues the brisk pace, forcing Diana and Sam to rush to keep up. 

Wren: Are you anti-lunch now, Sam? I know we were gone two months from your perspective, but, well, you think you know a person.

Sam: Look, I just don’t understand how you can be so… so cavalier in the face of this situation! We’re heroes, destined to destroy an ancient evil!

Diana: It seems less like we are destined, and more like we just have a greater possibility of succeeding than the average human. 

Sam: Still, ok, look, we should be working harder at, like, saving the world and stuff. Instead of just, puttering around. Y’know?

Diana: Well, from your perspective we were missing for a month, but we were gone for about five hours from our perspective. We have only had a week to decompress from what was a… very distressing event for us. An event that happened in the span of about one day. We really need the time.

Wren: Yeah, and keep in mind… The way you learned about this was relatively comfortable. Still stressful, I’m not downplaying that. But still.

Turning another corner.

Wren: You learned about all this from the Oracle, a well-intentioned, overall friendly dude. Diana learned about the supernatural by being belittled and having her mind toyed with by an alien entity we still barely know anything about for years. And she doesn’t even remember most of it any more because of his experiments. I learned about it by being stalked by an outright malicious monster in a shifting, infinite forest. We… Our initial experiences kind of affected the way we feel about this stuff as a whole. 

Sam: Okay, yeah, I can see that. I’m just… Is it wrong that I’m… kind of excited?

Wren: No, definitely not. Enjoy that while that lasts. But, like, in the wake of what happened to us Diana has slept about four hours in the past week, Alex has completely shut down, and not one night has passed where I haven’t had a nightmare, woken up, and been unable to find relief because the nightmarish visions are not only possible, but even plausible. I saw my own dead body. I buried my own dead body. This stuff is gonna change you, man. 

Sam: Huh. Okay. Okay, yeah. Let’s just…

The group has now entered the great chamber, specifically the area that functions as a kitchen. Sam blinks twice. A sudden wave of fatigue moves over him. He clears his throat, and shakes his head quickly, trying to maintain his waking. It doesn’t work. The exhaustion flows over him. He rocks back and forth. And then he falls. His head strikes the counter, and he is immediately struck unconscious.

He awakens then, his ears ringing. He finds himself bound to a metal table, with a machine beside him, a shut metal door, and a poster of a cat hanging from a branch. It is captioned “FALL IDIOT, FALL.” 

The metal door swings open, and a strange little man in a space helmet and a cloak enters.

Sam blinks at the little guy. He's definitely wearing a space helmet. The glass is reflective, and he can see his own face staring back at him, stretched out by the strange shape of the glass. He's also wearing a yellow cloak, or robe of some sort.Sam realizes this is the alien from Diana's dreams. 

Sam: You... You're Hastur, right?

Hastur: Ooh! Ding ding ding! Smart cookie! Sam Aberdeen, I salute you!

Sam: How do you know my name?

Hastur: I ought to ask the same, kidderoony! 

He cocks his head to the side.

Sam: Diana told me. She also said that-

Hastur: Diana?! Why… That RAT! Sold me up the river!

Sam: She also said that you did some rather unpleasant things to her. So I’m going to suggest that you explain to me, pretty quickly, exactly how you know who I am. 

Hastur: Okay dude, geez. Take a... A chill pill. 

He pulls up a high stool beside Sam and sits down in it.

Hastur:  You’re not exactly in a state to be threatening me, but I’ll oblige. Ain't I sweet. A couple of your little friends went on a short trip recently, and stopped some heir from killing The Old Voice! It's all anybody's been talking about. I was visiting a lower layer to sell some of your pal's organs when I heard about it. Prophesied heroes. The word is you’re supposed to kill Apophis.  It only took me a while to find you! And, well… I’ve been hankering to run a few tests on you.

Sam: How about an autograph first?

Hastur: Hm. Funny boy, huh? I'm a pretty jovial guy, yeah?

Sam: …jovial?

Hastur. I'm hip. Cool. Friendly?

Sam: Um?

Hastur: Look. Your friend Diana sassed off to me. And so I did something funny to her. Do you want to know what I did?

Sam: Sure. I'd love to know exactly how hard I'm going to have to beat you up, you freak.

Hastur: I added her to my cringe compilation.

Sam:... Sorry? What?

Hastur: I forced her to relive the worst memories of her life, the most utterly humiliating, demeaning things she has ever experienced. Over and over again. Shot in 4k. I'm not to be trifled with, kid! The mind is a playground for me! Already, you’re consciously trying to stop yourself from thinking about embarrassing things you’ve done, but in doing so, you only cause those memories to surface! Fourth grade. Prom. Ha! That’s a cute one. I’m willing to bet those are just the tip of the iceberg. Want me to keep going?

Sam: N-no.

Hastur leaps up and claps, a sharp sound that rings throughout the small metal chamber. 

Hastur: Great!

As he does this, the metal restraints vanish, and Sam is freed.

Hastur: I have something cool to show you, before I run a few tests. 

Sam: …

Hastur: Well? C’mon! 

Sam follows Hastur out the sliding metal door. He's walking at a steady, very quick, speed. The hallways out here seem to be oversized metal tubes, with rounded walls. Occasionally, there's a window. a bright light is shining outside of it, far too bright for Sam to see anything.  

He feels like a rat in a maze. Hastur is clicking his heels against the smooth metallic floor, moving at astounding speed. 

 

 

Sam: Can you slow down, man?

Hastur: Certainly! We wouldn't want wittle baby Aberdween getting sweepy, now would we?

Sam: Jeez, you're a jerk.

Hastur: It's been noted! But I kid, kid. I kid.

Sam: Kid kid?

Hastur: I mean. I'm joking, child. Pulling your leg. Giving you a light ribbing

.

Hastur shrugs, and noticeably slows his pace. Sam can now walk beside him instead of trailing behind him.

 

Sam: So, my friends went on an adventure, huh? 

Hastur: Yep! You didn't get any specifics?

Sam: Not exactly.

Hastur: Far as I can tell, it wasn't really much of anything. There was this kid named Lillie, who I guess was some sort of Heir, destined to kill The Old Voice and take Its place.

Sam: Who's the Old Voice?

Hastur: Holy Toledo, they kept you out of the loop, huh? It's just some ancient deity that used to rule over one of the smaller Layers. It was betrayed by some nobody skeezeball named Nyarl, and the Layer was split between the two. They were fighting all the time, but eventually a status quo was set in place, and everything was just dandy!

Sam: Ok...

Hastur: Eventually, a prophecy was revealed! A human girl had come of age. Her name was Lillie, and she was destined to someday kill the Old Voice and take It's throne! Which was great news for Nyarl, who promptly kidnapped her and started trying to influence her to do what he wanted. The Old Voice also found out that this heir was out there somewhere, and started looking Itself. 

Sam: This story is getting a little bit too complicated.

Hastur: Well, don't get your britches in a twist kid! It's only gonna get complicateder! Because, see, Lillie had a lil someone waitin' for her at home! Some college student named Ten! 

Sam: Dude, it's like you can't go six seconds without introducing another character! This feels like lazy writing!

Hastur: I'm not "writing" anything! I'm recounting a story for you, you moron! Listen to it for more than four sentences without interruption! Jeez, man! Ugh! 

Sam: ...

Hastur: No, no, it's fine. Don't apologize or anything. I'm over it. Anyway! Ten, Lillie's lil' datepal, headed over here to Emerald Springs to look for their girlfriend! But yeah, they met your friends somehow, and your friends headed over to The Old Voice's Layer!

Sam: You keep saying "Layer?"

Hastur: Dude, I can't... I don't even know how to explain Layers. Use your... Your thinking cap. Think about it. Just... try to contextualize it. But... Okay. Your friends visited the... Layer... Gah, no I can't even talk anymore without wondering what you know. I... Okay, your friends ended up offering an ultimatum. Nyarl and the Old voice had to get along and rule their Layer together, or they'd have to fight! And it worked! The two''ve them are co-ruling the Layer! The only downside is that trade sanctions are crazy around there. I can't even sell Diana's organs around there without registering.

Sam: Oh nooooo....

Hastur Laugh it up, schmuck. You won't be laughing soon! Not when you see my pet project, and understand the grandiosity of my plans! We'll see who's laughing then!

 

Hastur stops, turning on his heel.

 

Hastur: Me. It'll be me.

Sam: ...

Hastur: I'll be laughing.

Sam: Yeah, no, got it.

 

Hastur nods, apparently gratified by the exchange. Sam makes a sharp turn down another tunnel. Something about this turn feels final, and He’s fairly certain he’s reached his destination. With an elaborate motion, Hastur waves his arms at the steel sliding door in front of Sam.

 

It opens.

 

The two walk in. There are giant test tubes lining the walls to either side of the room. The glass is fogged, and a strange blue light emanates from all the tubes, lighting the chamber. 

 

 

Hastur: So, Sam, pal. Wouldja like to see where all those organs from your chum Diana have been going?

Sam: Please don't say "chum" again. But, sure.

 

Hastur cackles, pushing a button on one of the tubes. The glass slides open, and a thick smoke flows everywhere. 

 

It clears. There's a figure standing, eyes closed, wearing a white robe. 

It's Diana. Or, perhaps more likely, a clone of her.

What?

 

Sam grits his teeth. He’s dangerously close to something approximating a breakdown. But that doesn't matter. Wren was right, this isn't cool, it's stressful. But he needs to help his friends. He needs to figure out what is going on.

 

He quietly nods.

 

Sam: Show me.

Hastur: Promise you won’t freak out on me, kid?

Sam: Not sure I can promise. I’ll try.

Hastur: Okay, works for me!

 

 

He giddily pulls a remote out of a pocket in his robe, and pushes a button. A large screen appears on a wall beside him. Sam is confronted with a feed of a strange blackness, of a shade he cannot describe, and has never before seen.

 

 

It isn’t darkness, he realizes. It’s pure nothingness. Suddenly, an eye opens in that nothingness. It is massive, and yellow, and he immediately knows what it is.

 

 

Hastur: Apophis!

 

 

Hastur inputs a few more buttons on the remote, humming what sounds like the Battle Hymn of the Republic. The tubes containing Diana clones begin to glow. And then, a set of shackles emerges from the floor below you, clasping around your ankles.

 

 

YOU: Wha-

Hastur: There is a decent chance that you’re about to be very angry with me! I’m keeping myself safe! And uh.. To preface, I really wish there was another way to do this.

 

 

Sam feels his stomach sink as the tubes containing the Dianas begin to emit loud noises, and several Dianas are sucked down into them in sudden, quick blasts. He turns to the screen, where white squares randomly begin to open in the void. They shoot Dianas out into the void. The Dianas seem to be wearing jetpacks of some sort, which appears to be the only reason they don’t fall. he watches in mute horror as they try to escape, only for the darkness to coalesce into black tendrils that lash out, pulling the Dianas into the darkness. He watches one Diana scream, and try to lunge back toward the area where the white squares open. She is somehow unable to get through. She is slammed into by a Diana flying out of the square, and it quickly closes.

 

 

Hastur: Yeah, they used to be able to get back in through the portals, which was problematic. Fixed that! 

 

 

Sam watches the same Diana be absorbed by black tentacles. The Dianas are trying to escape, and tendrils rocket out blindly, striking Dianas left and right. Apophis is attacking madly, without thinking, like a child breaking His toys. Except the toys are exact copies of one of Sam’s best friends.

 

Sam: What? Why are you doing this? They’re not even-

Hastur: Trying to fight back? I know. It’s a bummer. Most of them try to escape. But occasionally, they manage to try to fight back. I… Really would do this in a more humane way, like… Train them to fight or whatever. But the only way for a person to fully reach their “Mythic Potential,” or whatever, is… Essentially just heaps of trauma. So shooting them into a void to fight Apophis is really the best way to do this. 

 

 

Sam watches a trio of Dianas talk to one another, making a plan or something? The three of them charge toward Apophis. The dark tendrils emerge, slamming one of them backward into the dark. Another strikes the jetpack of one of them, and it explodes. That Diana falls into the void, and off-screen. The other freaks out, as a shadow eclipses her. The first evidently survived being struck, and is staring in abject, blank terror at her peers meeting their fates. She cries out, doubling over, and clutching her knees, entering the fetal position.

 

 

Hastur: Watch. That one is inheriting her Mythic Role.

 

 

She rockets forward suddenly, eyes widening, mouth open in a soundless scream of rage. Her eyes begin to glow green, and a strange aura of the same color begins to grow around her. A black tendril rushes toward her, and she somehow anticipates it, sending a bolt of green light at it. The tentacle melts away instantly, but about three more tendril lash out behind her. She turns abruptly, blasting them all. They vaporize instantly. 

 

 

Sam: What?

Hastur: Yeah, awakening has some real benefits. She isn’t going to survive of course. She’s hardly the first clone to awaken fighting Apophis! She pissed him off though!

 

 

It’s true. Sam watches the Eye widen, black pupil dilating in inexpressible, incoherent rage. A plethora of dark tendrils lash out, and she destroys them all. The eye begins to glow, however, and a wave of burning bright yellow energy blasts her, vaporizing her instantly.

 

 

Hastur: You get the general idea. An army of replaceable Diana Clones to aid your efforts. If Apophis loses, we all lose. Cool?

Sam: What?! Not cool, man! That’s… My best friend! You’re, like, sending her to her death, repeatedly! Like, genocide of her specifically. That isn't “Cool,” man.

Hastur: Well, let’s be civil! Come on, I just

 

 

He keeps talking, but Sam’s not focusing on that. Because Apophis is looking at him. Through the screen, somehow, He sees Sam. He doesn't know how, but He is looking at Sam. At him specifically. He’s inside his mind.He hears a shrill, childlike voice screaming endless pejoratives. He feels a cold black wind. He feels boundless hate, from a being that can do nothing but hate. He feels cold, and in his mind’s eye, he watches the screen dissipate, and He’s looking at him now, and there is nothing to do but stare back.

 

 Sam immediately doubles over, vomiting. 

 

He opens his eyes to find himself back in the real world, also vomiting. Wren, Diana, and now Alex are watching him with great concern.

He starts to shiver. It's cold, very cold. Quietly, and reluctantly,he manages to inform his friends, and Alex, of the horrible events that had just transpired in his dream. His encounter with Hastur, and his  encounter with Apophis. He tries to relay the tale of the Diana genocide in the most tactful manner possibly, although it isn't really a subject that can be addressed with much tact, is it? He walks over to the sink, to get a drink of water, and also puts some distance between himself and Wren, who is growing very pale, and very angry as he recounts the atrocities various clones of her girlfriend experienced. Diana, meanwhile, is watching with rapt attention, and Alex is staring with the cool gaze of the utterly desensitized. 

He drinks from a glass of water. It's cold, and it feels like a breeze passing through the caverns of his body. A wind picks up outside, and the sound, as easily recognizable as it is, terrifies him utterly. 

 

Alex: Jeez. Alternate versions of us are just... dropping like flies, huh?

Diana: That all sounds very interesting. Of course, it is a little upsetting. I do not actually know what to do with this information.

Wren: How do you meet Hastur?

Diana: Generally I just fall asleep? Why?

Wren: I'd like to talk to him.

 

She's pale with barely repressed rage, and shaking slightly.

 

Diana: Wren, I do not think that is a good idea. Hastur obviously has resources, enough to create hundreds of clones with me, and equip them with jetpacks. I do not want you to be hurt.

Wren: OKAY YEAH COOL I DON'T WANT A POTENTIALLY INFINITE NUMBER OF YOU BEING MURDERED

Diana: Yeah, I do not either!

Alex: Look, we took out The Old Voice, yeah? We just... Find some way to all enter the same dream, and mess up Hastur, right?

Diana: We only managed to "take out" The Old Voice because Ten and Lillie helped us, and now they are busy at school. Also, saying we defeated It feels like an overstatement. We negotiated.

Alex: Hm, fair point.

Wren: I don't really care! I just want to hurt him, physically!

Sam: Seconded. 

Diana: Look, I understand completely, and it is very kind of all of you to be so defensive of me, but I am the only me currently present! I am fairly certain you need my consent to go on a vengeful crusade in my name! I will say this: Yes, we can certainly take vengeance upon Hastur, in the future, when we are better equipped. And when school is not three days away from starting. Also, as the resident Diana Zhu, I think I speak for my replicants when I say, I want you to be safe. So would they, I assume.

 

Sam nods. Again he is reminded of the One Hundred and Fifty-Two Aberdeen Family Tenets, the sixty-second one this time. "Respect your friend's wishes, even when they sound dumb-ish." And this wish is not even dumb. Wren agrees as well, begrudgingly. Alex just shrugs.

 

Alex: Eh, personally, I'd appreciate a crusade in my name. But, whatever.

 

The rest of the day is spent in idle chatter. Sam returns home, and finds the house empty.

For dinner, he eats a hot pocket.

 

okay, i realize that the cb crashing before i posted, in addition to the semi-retcon, might make it hard to select a command. i'll get you guys started! 

~~

TRY TO RECRUIT TRACY ==>

YOU: Well, I think that Tracy is a good first try. It'll probably be easy.  And, let's be honest... Do we really have any desire at all to talk to Ryan this early?

It is agreed that no, none of you really want to talk to Ryan until you absolutely have to. You all walk out into the cafeteria, and on the way you reach into your backpack, and grab a can of Mountain Dew, which you hand to Diana. She makes an audible squealing sound, and you roll your eyes. 

You walk up to a small table, at which Tracy themself is seated. They immediately look up at you. They are about your age, you think, and they're on the shorter side, with light brown skin, grayish hair in a curly bob, and wide fish-like eyes. They're sitting with their legs crossed, and the shirt they're wearing is bright teal, beaaring the words "THEY WANT TO MAKE A T-SHIRT OUT OF YOUR DREAMS."  You think they're cool and all, but to be honest, they're very intense, and you can't remember ever seeing them smile. They make you kind of nervous.

Tracy: Yes. Hello. I was hoping for a greeting from you. 

They incline their head slightly toward Sam.

Tracy: Would I, or would I not be correct in surmising that he knows what you have made known to me.

Diana: You would. He is another prophesied hero. Like us!

YOU: Yeah, we figured, if you need further convincing that this stuff is real, uh, here's a third guy who will tell you it is.

They raise an arm.

Tracy: No need at all, Wren. I believe you. I saw that giant insect creature onscreen during the facetime call, and to be honest, everything you've told me could be read as confirmation of things I've seen, and theories I've developed. Worst case scenario, this is your elaborate plan to get me to LARP with you. Something I would have no problem doing. 

Alex speaks for the first time.

Alex: I don't really do that kind of stuff.  

Tracy frowns. To you, they look almost disappointed.

Tracy: Understood, and noted. The prescence of Aberdeen, also noted. Any details about what being a "mythic hero" actually entails?

YOU: We're not sure. We're actually kind of bad at it. Our.. job, I guess, is to kill this evil God, but we don't really know how? We can use All the help we can get.

Tracy: I will help you to any extent I can. Of course. And I have some tips. 

Sam: Tips?

Tracy: The janitor is one of these abominations you're talking about.

YOU: What?

Tracy: I honestly think you have to see it to understand. Come on, we can probably sneak past the monitors.

Do you:

A: follow Tracy

B: recruit Ryan

 

FOLLOW TRACY==>

They're already up on their feet, and walking pretty rapidly away from you. You're interested, but uncertain as to how you, six-foot two wearing a bright argyle sweater, a guy wearing an orange beanie, an albino, and a girl with neon green hair are expected to sneak past anyone. 

It ends up not being difficult at all. Nobody with any sort of authority is paying attention to you, and if they were, they'd probably assume you were going to the bathroom.  

You exit the cafeteria area, and enter the dim, locker-lined and foully scented hallways of your school. Tracy walks briskly but not too quickly, just a little bit ahead of you. Sam is speeding up slightly to walk beside them.  Alex speaks up haltingly from behind you.

Alex: Hey, Tracy, right? 

Tracy: Yep, that's me.

Alex: Look, I dunno how exactly it works here, but... Okay, how exactly do you know where your janitor is right now?

Tracy: Long periods spent tracking his movements.

YOU: But... Why?  I know you said that he's some supernatural thing, but how exactly did you... start tracking him?

Tracy: I need a project, or I get fidgety. I don't remember entirely why I decided on him. But it paid off, you'll see.

Tracy leads you to a door. The door is to a classroom, one of the occupied ones, you think. About half of the rooms in the building haven't held a class in years. Tracy grabs Sam's shoulder, and puts up a hand to communicate that your group stop moving and be quiet. Sam flinches when he's grabbed, but he realizes it's just them. Tracy eventually speaks in a whisper.

Tracy: (okay guys. i think i heard him in here. he generally starts the day in this part of the building, and nobody's around, so... he probably isn't even trying to act human.)

Diana: (okey dokey! should we be prepared to fight?)

Tracy: (well, i hope not. but... okay, yeah, probably prepare at least, yeah.)

You and the others slowly open the door, standing back and looking in.

The Janitor is in there. He's sitting on the floor, looking up at the ceiling and smiling faintly. His skin is very pale, and his hair is stringy and brown. He's wearing dark glasses, and a green coat with the collar turned up. 

He suddenly stands up, leaping to his feet. Slowly, he arches his back, looking down at the ground. His mouth hangs oppen, and his hands dangle limply at his sides. He starts making odd hissing noises. It's really freaky. He smiles wider.

You shift on your feet uncomfortably, and the floor creaks suddenly. The janitor suddenly stands completely upright. He sees you, and his face sinks into a sour frown.

Janitor: What are you kids doing?

What do you say? 

LIE==>

You start scanning your mind for any lies you can use, but you're panicking a little, (okay, a lot.) and you end up blurting something out without thinking even slightly.

YOU: SALAD BAR

Janitor: ...

He raises a single eyebrow.

Janitor: What.

You open your dumb mouth again, but Tracy, thankfully, clears their throat and interjects.

Tracy: Our friend was looking for the salad bar, sir. We haven't found it. 

Janitor: What... salad bar?

Tracy: The salad bar, sir. The... the secret salad bar. The...

They turn to you, and frown deeply.

Tracy: You didn't give me much to work with.

The janitor sneers at you, and moves toward your group in a disturbingly fluid manner. He hisses at you, spit flecking his lips.

Janitor: You must think I'm pretty stupid, huh? And you, do you really think I haven't noticed you following me around?

Tracy cringes.

Janitor: No. No, something very strange is going on here, and I'm going to- 

He stops abruptly. You see he's just turned in the direction of Diana. It's obvious he just saw her, despite the dark glasses. He immediately loses the sour expression, and smiles. It's very insincere looking, and very creepy.

Janitor: I'm going to walk you back to the cafeteria. You're not supposed to be back here yet.

Alex: Uh, don't worry, man. We can find our way back.

Janitor: Nonsense! We don't want you... Wandering off, do we? 

Your party marches off, back to the cafeteria. You glance back occasionally at the janitor, who's transparently staring at Diana, a fact that is freaking you out.

YOU: (deen, the janitor is looking at you. he has been for... a while.)

Diana: (noted. that does make me uncomfortable. also, salad bar?)

YOU: :|

She giggles. You hear Tracy whispering to Sam, who is standing next to them. You strain slightly to hear them.

Tracy: (...so, i'm going to go back and beat him up. )

Is that a good idea?

Should you... stop them? 

BE SENSIBLE==> 

It's pretty clear to you that letting Tracy start a fight with someone you don't know anything about is bad actually. But... well... on the other hand, you really don't like the way he looked at Diana.

CONSCIOUSLY MAKE THE WRONG CHOICE==>

You nod at Tracy, but hold your hand out to indicate that they should wait for a bit. They seem to understand.  You speak in a whisper. 

YOU: (okay, there are five of us, and one of that guy. we can definitely take him.)

Sam: (wait, you're going along with this?)

Alex: (yeah, you're generally pretty non-confrontational. to clarify beforehand, i'm not saying we don't fight this guy, honestly, i'll do whatever at this point.)

YOU: (okay, yes, but the janitor guy won't stop staring at deen and it's really freaking me out, so i say we jump him.)

Sam: (so we're gonna fight this guy because... he looked at your girlfriend funny?)

YOU: (in so many words, yes.)

Alex: (pretty hardcore, wren)

YOU: (i do my best.)

Diana: (guys, i can feel him doing it now, and it is freaking me out to a considerable degree.)

Tracy: (okay then, we do this on three.)

A voice calls out from behind you.

Janitor: No need.

Crap.

Janitor: I heard everything you said. While I'm not sure whether this means you're aware of my true nature, you're clearly at the very least dangerous. And to think, I was only going to have to kill one of you. 

Diana: Why do you want to kill me?

Janitor: It's not personal, I-

He's abruptly cut off by Tracy leaping up on top of him, and punching him in the face. You take that as an opportunity to run behind him, and kick the back of his legs. He falls down onto the floor. He looks up quickly, dark glasses shining in the fluorescent light coming from above you. His face twists into an expression of outright fury, and, seemingly not wanting to waste time standing up, he begins to crawl rapidly toward Diana. You rush over to help her, but that turns out to have been unnecessary. She kicks him in the face in an adrenaline-fueled burst of panic. His glasses fall off, and-

YOU: Okay, that's pretty freaky.

He doesnt have eyes. Not in the sense that his eyes are sockets, or in the sense that there's just skin where his eyes should be. They are two tunnels, bored through his head. You can see through them. It is "pretty freaky," and you're a little upset that you're currently at a level where that's your reaction. Bleh.

The Janitor stands up, mouth gaping open. He makes an inhuman shrieking sound, and lunges toward Diana again. You tackle her out of the way and land on top of her. 

Diana: Wren, you are kind of crushing me. 

YOU: Sorry!

You hurry to get off of her and help her up. You turn to see Tracy and Sam kicking and punching the janitor. He has a strange expression on his face. Alex is standing back, staring blankly. You're a little upset for a bit, but then you remember what happened last time he tried to fight, so you can't really blame him. 

He looks up at Diana, and lashes his arm out. It stretches like a rubber band. He grabs her, and it snaps back, pulling her toward him. She cries out as she slams into a wall. Alex rushes over to help her, and you run up to the janitor and hit him in the face. His face visibly morphs into... something different. It doesn't appear to have a nose or mouth, but it's tunnel-eyes are still there. He stretches toward you like a rubber-hose animation, and you make an audible sound of disgust.

What do you do next? 

GET OUT==>

Okay, yes, this clearly bad. It's difficult to get everyone to leave without actually just yelling that you need to go. There are six of you. You call out to your friends, and they nod. Diana runs to catch up with you, and grabs your hand so the two of you can run together. You hear a loud screaming noise emanating from behind you, and all of the sudden a red light shines everywhere. You watch in terror as the hallway in front of you extends to an absurd length, and new hallways and doors appear all around you. Of course he can do that. Of course. 

You turn around, and see the janitor has extended to a streched out, incredibly tall caricature of itself. 

YOU: What is that?

Tracy: I don't know. It... I'll be honest, I don't think we can take him. 

The Janitor-Creature lashes out another stretched arm at Diana. You run toward him, and do something kind of dumb.

KICK IN FACE==>

You attempt a flying kick at his face, and instead hit it square in the chest, which may be better. It staggers back.

YOU: What do you want with Diana?

It responds in, surprisingly and somewhat amusingly, the exact same, completely human sounding voice.

Janitor: The green one? It is a threat. There are many of it, each originating from it, and dedicated to fighting my master. I will cut the weed at its root. 

YOU: What, the...clone thing?

The Janitor doesn't audibly respond, but he does charge directly at Diana. You grab a leg, but he's strong enough to drag you with it. Sam jumps in front of The Janitor, and he slams into him, full force. Sam goes flying back, and hits the ground with an audible crunch and groan. Tracy rushes back to help him. Leaving you, Alex, and Diana standing in an uneven triangle formation around The Janitor. 

What do you do now? 

TALK YOUR WAY OUT ==>

You think you might be mildly outclassed, but you can see that you might actually be able to convince this guy to go after someone else. Hastur even, a guy you... Do not like. At all. 

YOU: Look, I know you're mad about the whole, clone... thing? But you have to understand, Diana isn't, like, cloning herself. It's this guy called Hastur.

Alex picks up on what you're doing. 

Alex: Yeah, he's like, this alien scientist! It's actually completely his fault. Actually, you should go right now and kill him instead of us.

The Janitor doesn't respond, but you feel a palpable wave of ill-will emanating from him. Alex speaks hastily.

Alex: Maybe not, maybe you don't want to do that. That's fine, hey, we can find a way to get to him. Seriously, we'll find a way, and stop the whole cloning process. We can do that, absolutely. Just, come on. We're not your enemies, we-

The Janitor lazily extends an arm, and punches him squarely in the jaw. Alex cries out, clutching his face and staggering back. The Janitor speaks again, his voice trembling and quivering in such a way that seems as if he's having difficulty forming words and speaking in a human-sounding voice.

Janitor: i ABsolutely underSTAND what you are sayINg. aND i do not CAre. I HAVE HELD this form for SO. SO. loNG. i haVE hELd thIs form for so. SO LONG. ha! AND you! you, and your kind. you. cleaning YOUR WASTE! CLEANING your FILTH! CLEANING AND SERVING MY MASTER SILENTLY! in SHOrt! I HAVE SOME STEAM TO BLOW OFF!

He's clearly losing whatever tenuous grip on humanity he had developed. It is evident to you that negotiation isn't going to fix this. The Janitro begins to pace, ranting and raving in what is now a sreaming, animalistic tone.

Janitor: REST CONSIDERABLY ASSURED, Hastur, or WHOMEVER is responsible for the CLONE ARMIES, will NOT. GO. unpunished.  BUT!!! I will NOT leave you be. BECAUSE I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE.

You turn back to see halways dividing and multiplying, and you'r e unsure how you'll ever get out of here now. Tracy is walk back up, holding Sam in a bridal carry, he's wheezing slightly, and his right arm is at a worrying angle. 

Janitor: YOU ARE THE SIX! RISEN TO DEFY MY MASTER! AGAIN AND AGAIN, YOU RISE! YOU ALWAYS FAIL, YET YOU KEEP COMING BACK! WITH NEW FORMS, NEW FLESH, NEW BODIES AND NAMES. THIS TIME YOU WILL NOT REACH MY MASTER. YOU WILL FALL HERE.

What do you do?