>>5146512Target: 15
11, 9, 11
<span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-r">!!TEST FAILURE!!</span></span>
<span class="mu-s"><span class="mu-r">!!-54 Sanity!!</span></span>
The current was too strong, your limbs that remained were far too weak. You were too weak. You can only scream as the tendrils rip into you once more. Tearing apart the little of you that remained. You whispered a silent apology as it took you.
The Emperor Class Phobos roared, projecting the screams of Mortimer throughout the hanger bay. The external systems blaring the boy's ragged and animalistic howls. Crews rushed around, most trying to escape as a siren began to sound. The senior pilots rushed off. The pilot's Mistress screams into the radio within her hands. The metal monster busy thrashing from side to side so violently the restraints squealed and moaned. "Don't give in! Mortimer! Fighting against it!" She stops, her brow furrowing. The other commanders were shouting and commanding her to eject the pilot. She said nothing her mind a storm of ideas. The Gamma Commander attempted to snatch the detonator from her. The old man moved too slowly, his body used to a Phobos. Delivering a beastly headbutting she back tracked. Further away from them. Radio to her lips. She cursed the boy, she hadn't wanted to show one of her trump cards so early. It was now or never. The old bastard wouldn't give her another chance, the senior pilots were already linking up. As the crowd of candidates evacuate the area she speaks. A tongue none present could understand.
<span class="mu-r">" "</span>The word seared into you mind. A bolt of pain that eclipsed all else. You heart broke. It was enough to bring you back together. You woke. The pain. It was gone, even as you watched the miniscule remaining strands of your mind being rendered apart. You felt nothing. You felt something. Pulling you. Further. Through the current. You were truly unburdened now. The hate, the madness. You thought love had saved you. But it wasn't love. Oh no it was something far worse. It was duty, one that wouldn't allow you to die. A burden that wouldn't allow you to go insane. The curse of loneliness. The voices were gone, all of them. Only one remained. Your Mistress. She orders you. Like she always has. "Fight Boy. Now!" She howls it at you, seeped in disgust and loathing. They drive you on.
Roll a dice+3d6+4 Mind Test.
Target is:13
Best of three will be used.
>What do you do, Doggy?>What do you say? No one cares anyway. >Do as you're told. >What a good boy. >Now roll over.>Play dead! 