Rolled 79, 48, 2, 1, 58 = 188 (5d100)
>>5670875>75: CommFizz giggled and jiggled the orb, talking to it, walking along and fully oblivious to the destabilization around them. The orb for its part seemed to actually respond. It wasn't really warmth, no. Vitality almost. It flooded out in comforting pulses, and with it pops and bursts of ideas. Things without shape but full of optimism and hope for now, for the future. Ideas of simply "Good." She knew that it wanted to be "real." more real than it was! It needed a place, a safe place, and it needed custodians, more than machines. It would need so much.
>31: SafetyHeading back safe was not really in the books. This dimensional bridge was collapsing the reality that was, soon to be no more, vacating the space. Left behind, a yawning void. Looking down was an immediate sense of "Below." Not another dimension, no, a space between; its profanity momentarily exposed by the absence of another. Leviathan shapes lurked in there, down there. Swimming as comfortably as an ocean, a million stars...no galaxies. It was teeming with life. The barest fraction of the Jovian bleed...
From that other place, the smallest mote crept through this crack in reality, be it ever shrinking. The mote, it was not friendly, nor kind, nor to be reasoned with. It ripped at the air, but just as easily ripped at the party.
>Attacking: Fiz, Ignaz, and ArsonBot, rolling to see if SG makes it to the party, and if Thingamacrab can deusexmachina once more.---
>>5670741>90: IntelThe cult learned of the dimensional bridge, of the temporary rift left in it's wake, and of the lighthouse. It told them of these new adventurers, in ways a 2L can: statistics, video replays, probing sensor data, credit scores, and pornographic viewing history. The cult knew uncomfortable truths about these individuals.
