FINAL TRIAL

[bathymetric]

Alright, that's enough snooping around for one day. There's a door in the underground tunnels that lets out beyond the vault door, just use that to get to the elevator. One of you has a damn staff keycard now, might as well just have you use it, since apparently I'm down both of my Assistants. The code is 020594.

[ As you head in and punch in the code, the elevator rises up to meet you one last time. And one last time, you take the ride down into the depths, evidence in hand. Something stirs in you - hope? Dread? It's hard to feel nothing at a time like this, don't you think? Even if it's just being really angry at The Professor.

When you reach the bottom, the dome is the same but you find the setup itself changed wildly. There's no sign at all of the original podiums or where they were, just a number of sleek new ones and a box of frosted glass. It stands out in stark contrast to the inky blackness of the sea outside. The lights don't reach out of the dome at all, and within the dome they illuminate the silhouette of a man, sitting at a desk, hands folded in front of him.

The Professor is here. You hope. Do you have any choice but to believe he's here? ]

Take your places, boys and girls. It's not what I think any of us anticipated, but it's time for your final trial. There are several questions I expect you to be able to answer, the largest being, well... tell me where you are and what you're doing here. Though I suspect first you'll want to talk over your... evidence.

[ Welcome to your final trial. ]

Comments

[philoxenia]

[ Here we are. She's nervous as hell, but with Della and Therion next to her, and Zerinda not far away... it's at least better. ]

Why don't you start by showing us your face? You know, technology can be so faulty, it's good to make sure just in case. The playing field should be even, right?

[ It's said as she pulls the notebook and papers on the Subjects out. ]

[bathymetric]

[ The silhouette turns towards her - looks like he brought a full-on office chair down with him. ]

I will show my face once you've all actually made some headway, do not worry. Focus on the task at hand.

[nothingcanstop]

Aw, come on, Mira. You know the guy's too much of a coward to do that.

[ That funky fancy blue sword in hand and an assault rifle strapped to her back, Della rolls her eyes.

She addresses the rest of them, waving a memo around. ] The Prof here outsourced our "titles," to someone else. I guess a...student based on how it looks. Get this, the whole...reason why he wouldn't use Seteth's? It's 'cause the slacker couldn't think of a better one and was too insulted to just say DILF. If you're gonna put it out here for us to use, just buckle up, ya ninny.

[ ...Finally, the chance to insult him to his face. Finally. ]

[ladygeryon]

[Nira's got her sword with her, and she's basically using it as a second walking stick right now, letting it lean slightly against the side of the podium while she glares at the Professor.]

So what'd you do to the Atlantic Liner, hm?

[bathymetric]

Did you demand answers on your final exams in school like this, Tauros-Head? Share with the class, not me.

[hardnosed]

[ god she wants to punch the glass so badly BUT ANYWAY: ]

Of course you're still not showing your face. [ She's got the laptop with her, and opens it with visible agitation. Her followup is directed at everyone else. ] We found out what happens on Saturdays.

[nothingcanstop]

Don't just stop there, Jas...per. [ SHE AT LEAST HAS THE DECENCY...TO NOT DO THAT...IN FRONT OF EVERYONE... ] What'd you find?

[mouflon]

Therion and I found the execution room, by the way. I figured they were being transported to some other facility, the same way we were transported here in the first place, but no, it turns out they were happening right under our feet.

It's like we all guessed — just a show. Hard light stuff, I think, and... Pretty customizable.

So were you writing the executions yourself, Professor, or were you forcing your assistants to do it?

[bathymetric]

There's a remote access system. I wrote them myself, I'll say that much.

[bogwife]

[Zerinda's got some important paperwork she's pulled out of her bag.]

You're part of a council that runs a kind of training school, Professor. You, a Doctor, a Coach and two others. Your best students become your agents and to hide it there's a cover company taking care of all the costs. [She flips through the papers, looking for the profits chart.] And if I'm reading this right it's doing very well right now.

[philoxenia]

A... training school?

[ ... What the fuck. And, you know, considering everything else they've found in this facility... ]

... For criminals, I'm guessing.

[bathymetric]

[ He makes a slight impressed noise. ]

Well reasoned, Zerinda.

[fivestagegod]

So. I've actually got something approaching good news, for once.

First of all, whatever he did to everybody's memories is flawed - strong emotions can drag stuff back to the surface in some circumstances, and the memories are all still there, they're just suppressed. Unfortunately, we've all been effectively punched in the brain so hard that we're repressing everything he doesn't want us to recall. Which is less great, but I don't know what you expected. There's some weird hardware he uses to do that, I've got blueprints for it here.

I've also got blueprints for some sort of quantum...thing that can be used between dimensions. You just need either a person or an object of sufficient size at the other end of it. I'm going to take a stab and say that I assume that's how we got here. The stuff's pretty old, like Planck and Schrodinger old. Early 1900s, but the tech required is pretty advanced. Designed by someone with initials R.L.

And because apparently today is our lucky day, allegedly there's backup copies of us, and everyone who's died here. Accessing those could theoretically restore the ones that have died, or...well, the ones that are still alive, too, I guess. Basically, backup copies for everyone. It also makes mention of the people who died as having been "disconnected", which implies this whole thing is a bit more of a mess than we thought it was from the start.

[ladygeryon]

Backups, huh? Are there multiple, or just one of each? [Does whoever's doing backups have good file saving habits?]

[nothingcanstop]

[ There's a lot to unpack here! ]

The memories thing I pretty much suspected...but backup copies? That sounds like...weird cloning combined with virtual reality.

[mouflon]

"Disconnected"? There's... a lot to suggest this place isn't a VR environment, but that's what this is making it sound like.

[philoxenia]

[ .... hm. ]

... I don't understand a lot of this, but... I guess having a backup copy of every one of us makes sense. If someone with potential dies, you wouldn't want to lose them forever. You'd want a way to bring them back.

[bathymetric]

Ah yes, the quantum... machine.

[ Look, it's not his area of expertise. He calls up something on a tablet. ]

She really did love using vague wording, didn't she? I'll clarify something about that for you, since it's hardly your fault - the object or person must have already traveled into the dimension of the machine. Hence the trouble - to travel between dimensions, one must already have succeeded at traveling between dimensions.

[bolderfell]

Before Rin and I found the execution chamber, I went through Cassandra's desk from when she was the Failsafe. Found a picture, a couple messages from the Professor, and her diary.

[He sets them out for everyone to look.]

What I take away from the diary is that Cassandra remembered some things, but not all, if that headache she got from that exhibit is any indication. She also didn't even know Angel was here, at least not until after the Anna and Rhea lost it. And since this photo was in her desk like a keepsake...

[He taps it.]

I think she was pretty fond of everyone in her run of this "experiment."

The memos confuse me most. The Professor's talked like that before--that the facility takes care of things itself. Like our executions if we fail. [He glances up towards the hatch he found in the ceiling, then shakes his head.] I don't know how that's possible. And then the other thing I don't get is... if this place isn't being "manually maintained," who else got this second message about catching our friend Red? After all...

If he let us use the staff key card ourselves because his two Assistants are down, does that mean no one else is here?

[ladygeryon]

[Nira has to lean over a bit to look, but-] Is that a Wigglytuff? A Pokemon was a participant by itself? [Since he's got the suit and all.]

[nothingcanstop]

[ After a bit of studying. ]

And...who does she mean, the others? ...The rest of their group? But... But did any of them even survive? Or, does she just think they did? From what she told me...she didn't remember being in an experiment like this. It took dragging a whole lot of crap and sorting through it to even jog her memory a bit.

[bogwife]

[Zerinda leans over and squints at the picture.]

Angel had that exact outfit in her closet. Why would they all be dressed the same like that...? [#homeschooledlife] Wait, there's no one else here?

[She frowns a little, thinking back to her conversation with Cassandra.] I spoke to Cassandra in the office a bit ago and she mentioned other people she worked with but didn't tell me anything about them because of the rules. At the time I thought she meant there were other people in the facility but...

[THings just got even more complicated.]

ULTIMATUM?

[bathymetric]

[ After the business with Birkin, The Professor turns to the rest of you. His tone is even, despite All This. ]

I suppose I've left you to your own devices for long enough to get your emotions tied up in knots. So I will ask you this, and once you can solve it we can progress: where are you and why are you here?

[mouflon]

...Hey, question for the group.

Redtext wanted us to get our coordinates to someone else. It seems likely that we're in some kind of virtual environment, but... Do you think the environment is painted over a real facility?

[fivestagegod]

Oh my god, we're working on it.