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A sci-fi gallery of cold metal and pulsating red light opens up. Dozens of tiny 5-foot-tall robots resembling Wall-E with pink neon eyes scurry back and forth, carrying sword-sized syringes and tubes filled with bioluminescent fluid.
Your synapses are disrupted, overwhelmed by a multitude of musical notes. A beautiful android (perhaps you think?) with a Rusty Cherub Face sings in distorted latin above a chandelier-shaped gallery, the voice of a possessed child:
>-10% HP
In the center of the hall, suspended by four mechanical ropes that pull his arms and legs almost to the point of dislocation, is HE (Or she...?)
A humanoid creature of ethereal beauty, half flesh, half machine, pale skin stitched and golden circuits, ribs spread like the wings of a mechanical angel.
Clearly androgynous, with slender and undefined bodily features that strongly suggest neither masculinity nor femininity—breasts and penis reinforce an almost divine (or pagan idol) presence beyond human categories.
Three wall-E-like robots works it simultaneously:
- one patches the exposed heart with hot silver wire, each stitch making the body tremble with pleasure-pain;
- another shoves a thick tube straight up his ass, injecting a bright red liquid that makes the poor girl's dick swell and throb as if it were about to explode;
- the third has a rusty cherub second head that looks like the singer and licks, literally licks, welds some open wounds with its plasma tongue.
Below him, a barrel-shaped pool of fresh shiny blood swirls slowly. (He must have emerged from there for repairs? I don't know, I have no idea what's going on. What the hell is this?)
Above, a colossal drill slowly descends, spinning, carving its way through his exposed entrails with a wet sound of flesh and metal colliding. (So this was the machinery I heard…)
>You feel sorry for him
Is the poor thing dead? Alive? Enjoying himself? Being tortured? The body glows and bleeds bioluminescently in the enormous barrel. Hah, the barrel! That's where all the smell is coming from! You ran at least 13 miles to come here. You are thirsty, hungry, feeling feral, so much blood triggers some demonic atavism on you and there is nothing you can do to ignore you FIRST FEEDING HUNGRY, until now being freudianly repressed. Maybe if it was human or two, but it's enough to refuel some trucks! Your mouth tears litters of saliva.
—There is no blood… This is something special…
You cannot control your breath. Confuse words cross your conscience
—Become… A… God…
>drink the blood from the cauldron
>dive into the cauldron
>free the poor guy… and drink the blood from the cauldron
>[...]it's even possible to molest this thing
