Quoted By:
>I CAN... RETURN THIS THING'S AFFECTION.
You swallow. The taste of <span class="mu-r">sweet iron</span> still lingers.
If this were any other place, in any other time, you could call this Calypso a nice girl.
You have your doubts about this.
But even so...
Even if this thing could just be teeth and claws and the very death of you at the end of this...
Even if you might be losing your mind underneath the crushing pressure and darkness...
Even if it's unbelievably retarded...
You're gonna do it.
<span class="mu-g">You're gonna smooch this robot.</span>
>INSPECT YOUR WOUNDS.
Your body's integrity is at a functioning level.
The green goop inside the medical syringe has been keeping you alive for this long. Just as long as you carefully mete out the extracted doses and don't inject too much at once, you won't turn into a red mist and pile of viscera from injecting this stuff into your body.
(What is this technomagic shit, really?)
You raise your left arm to check on the most recent wound — claw marks from something in the darkness.
Your eyes are drawn downwards.
There is a hole here.
It wasn't there before. You would have felt it long before now.
Given how recently the <span class="mu-r">blood</span> has dried, the wound has been bleeding for some time. It doesn't hurt or itch. The artery itself isn't filled with <span class="mu-r">blood,</span> but seeing the distressing way in which the torn open holes pucker...
You can't help but think that it needs to be filled.
A cold wind blows from the east. You don't hear it, only feel it.
>DRINK.
>DRINK IT ALL.
>VOMIT.
>INJECT MEDICAL SYRINGE.
>LOOK AROUND FOR HELP.
>SEARCH THROUGH YOUR POCKETS FOR...
>WAIT FOR CALYPSO. (NEXT SCENE)
>
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[???: ?/?]