>>5382293https://youtu.be/CIt_GutBRKoHeading for the VTOL, you pause mid-jog and wave to the two Blumenkrantzes. Thanks again, you guys, you say with genuine appreciation in your eyes, for <span class="mu-i">everything</span>!
“<span class="mu-i">Do your best out there!</span>” Chirps Christy’s phone as the girl in question waves with a smile growing on her face!
“Tch, just don’t screw up out there, Parbl-” Stopping mid-sentence once again, Blumenkrantz takes a long puff on his cigar before amending his statement in a hushed tone: “I mean, erm… <span class="mu-i">Thank you</span>, Stanley. Give ‘em hell…”
Boarding the VTOL, you grab a hold of a nearby handle and watch as both of the figures slowly shrink to an ant’s size as Eddie takes you upwards towards the hangar ceiling!
“Everybody buckle in,” he mutters, tapping away at a set of holographic controls as Talbot gets comfy in the passenger’s seat next to him, “and don’t even <span class="mu-i">think</span> of asking me to pull over for a bathroom break!
With a series of earth-shaking metallic groans, the roof iris slides open revealing a massive shaft separated by several more airlocks! Retracting into the sides of the shaft one by one, you’re finally met by one last barrier–this one thick enough to shrug off an atom bomb! As it opens at a glacier’s pace, clumps of bloody snow tumble into the chasm below as icy flakes bombard your perch!
As you rise into the air like a very confused shooting star, somewhere in the dark recesses of the bunker a red-haired soot-covered girl watches the security feed from the safety of a nearby vent. Clutching a freshly-made doll in your likeness close to her chest, the orphan glances skyward with a twinkle in her saucer-sized eyes.
Elsewhere in a ransacked supply warehouse a pair of security armor-clad goons pause picking up the merch strewn about the floor to watch your takeoff too–one of them a quartermaster, the other a gruff, older guard far from his post at the elevator armory.
In a safe room stuffed with shivering, frightened refugees, a massive mountain of a man clad in a blue bowtie, hockey mask, and a modest pair of finely-tailored trousers comforts a sobbing girl who just barely managed to escape the canteen she waited tables for. Hearing the rumble of your aircraft’s engines above, the safe room inhabitants become a little calmer.
Having taken down another squad of skeletons, a security squad leader gives an order to his men in a laconic Southern drawl–one of them with a familiar autograph on the side of his ash-covered helmet. Listening close to your departure, the squad’s legs become a little less heavy…
Far away in the remains of an old dorm building, a crowd of students and university staff stand their ground as bony limbs scratch and pound at the front door–no one has any intention of running anywhere.
Winds whipping you around like a spider dangling from a thread in a storm, <span class="mu-i">this</span> is where the end of your story begins…
>CONTD. 