Quoted By:
You summon all your will to do battle against the monster growing inside of your head, but your opponent knows your weaknesses now–and it’s playing for <span class="mu-i">keeps</span>.
Images of Pepper, Raj, even Rodney being torn apart by monsters flood your mind–their flesh ripped to shreds, their bones crunched by jaws that were once human. You only falter for a moment, but it’s en<span class="mu-r">ough.
YOU ARE WORTHY!</span>
You awaken in a dark room coated head to toe in a layer of hot sweat. A roaring fire crackles from the confines of an archaic stone fireplace–its mantle stuffed with rough-hewn wooden figurines whittled from what you assume to be the island’s local trees.
You lift your heavy head off of an old, yellowed pillow and wince at the sharp pain ringing through it like a hangover from Hell.
That’s when it all comes back to you.
The Lab. The mysterious taunter on the monitors. <span class="mu-i">Pepper</span>. The emotions hit you like a tsunami and send you reeling back into the modest, but comfortable bed.
You’re lost. Adrift in a sea of plots and schemes you can’t comprehend created by people you never even knew about until tonight… shit, you mutter as the roaring storm outside shakes the cabin you woke up in, everything’s just so <span class="mu-s">FUCKED…</span>
To make matters worse, your <span class="mu-s">WRIST WHIP</span> peeks out from below your hand as if to say ‘<span class="mu-i">hey, jerk! I’m still here too!</span>’. Retracting it with an annoyed growl, you clench your fists before pulling together enough resolve to sit up again.
Remember Master’s teachings, you mutter to yourself as you close your eyes in concentration, just because you’re down doesn’t mean you’re out…
… and remember what makes Diesel <span class="mu-i">Diesel</span>. Can’t forget Raj’s wisdom either.
Taking a steadying breath of the cozy, smoky air, you quickly take stock of your belongings… and <span class="mu-i">FREEZE.</span>
<span class="mu-s">PEPPER’S PHONE. THE CAMERA.</span> They’re both there… but the <span class="mu-s">HARD DRIVE–</span>
Did you <span class="mu-i">drop</span> it!?
Uncertainty creeps in as you glance around the cabin. Past an antique fridge and the simple kitchen it resides in is what appears to be a dining table, but its surface is filled to the brim with documents, unwashed plates, and mountains of <span class="mu-s">STICK-IT NOTES</span>. Seems to be the owner’s office more than anything else…
On the end table next to you are a few pill bottles–nothing you recognize. There’s a picture, too–a picture of an unfamiliar bearded man, a woman in a sundress, and a baby held between them.
It looks old.
As you crane your neck around the room, you feel a slight sting in your neck–brushing your hand against its origin, your fingers run over a small, bloody divot–like a dart or something had pierced it.
What do?
>LOOK THROUGH PEPPER’S STUFF.
>LEAVE. YOU DON’T WANNA BE HERE WHEN THE CABIN’S OWNER RETURNS.
>INVESTIGATE THE DINING TABLE ‘OFFICE’.
>TRY TO CONTACT HANK OR SOMEONE.
>CHECK THE FRIDGE AND KITCHEN–YOU’RE HUNGRY AS A HORSE!
>WRITE-IN!
