The rain patters endlessly against the foggy windows of the mansion, as if trying to wash away the sins of this cursed city. The dreary gloom seeps into the walls of my home, draining all warmth and comfort.
Today was particularly harrowing. I woke in a cold sweat, memories of the Plague and its horrors haunting my dreams. The altar remains bare, devoid of the weekly offering of blood. I dare not venture out to find a sacrifice. The risk is too great.
A firm knock at the front door startles me from my morbid thoughts. My heart leaps in my chest, pounding like the hooves of a horse mid-gallop. Who could be calling at this late hour? I clutch my revolver close as I creep down the stairs.
"Who goes there?" I call through the locked door, my voice faint and trembling. "What manner of Ill-omened Wanderer comes rapping at my door when all good folk have long turned in?"
I raise my gun, finger on the trigger. I’ve only got two bullets left. Two chances to stop whatever’s on the other side of that door. I hold my breath and wait for an answer.
A hesitant voice responds, barely audible through the wood. "I... I am looking for refuge. My name is..." There's a pause, as if they're unsure whether to continue. "...Rose." The figure shuffles closer to the door, their footsteps echoing faintly on the other side of the barrier between you.
I equip the power armor and use the perspective eye to check the surrounding environment.
The figure at the door seems young and delicate, if anything dressed more finely than you would expect for someone on the run. Their voice holds a note of desperation that cuts through the fog in your mind, drawing you closer against your better judgment. You hesitate only briefly before unlocking the door, throwing it open with surprising force.
"Come in, Rose," you say, stepping aside to allow them entry. "I don't know how much safety you'll find here... but at least you won't be out there any longer."
How many people are you？
You are alone in the mansion.
"You are right to be cautious, Rose," you say with a sad smile, glancing around the grand entrance hall. "This city is no longer what it once was." You offer your guest a shrug of acknowledgement and lead them deeper into the mansion. "Please, make yourself at home in whichever room you feel safest. I must warn you... I've had to seal some areas off for my own safety."
My memory of when I got here is hazy, and I'd like you to introduce yourself.
"My name is Salt," you say softly, glancing over your shoulder to make sure they're following you. "I have lived here alone for some time now. I don't remember much about what brought me here... only that this place has become my sanctuary." You lead the way through a grand archway, the hallway beyond lined with closed doors on either side.
"Perhaps once we've had a chance to rest and gather our thoughts, you might tell me your story, Rose," you offer gently. "Until then, perhaps it would be best if we kept each other company."
Wait a minute, my helmet has prosopagnosia. When I take it off, what does the occupant of the room look like?
When you turn to face the occupant of the room, Rose, you see a young woman with delicate features and striking golden eyes. Her long hair is loose around her shoulders, and she wears a dress that looks as if it once belonged to someone far wealthier than herself. Despite her plain appearance, there's an air of nobility about her that belies her current predicament.
Who are you talking about? I pulled out an electromagnetic rifle from behind my back and loaded it.
The question dies on your lips as you level the gun at Rose's head. The look of confusion and betrayal in her golden eyes is replaced by a flash of anger as she steps back, putting some distance between you. "I thought..." she starts to say, but then trails off.
"What is this about?" she demands, her voice shaking with fear and rage. "Who are you really? And why did you bring me here?"
I put my rifle down and reassured her, "Girl, I'm not being mean. I'm just curious about what else is in there."
"You... you don't trust me?" Rose says incredulously, her eyes wide with disbelief. "After everything I've been through, after finding shelter in your home..." Her voice trails off again, and she bites her lower lip nervously. "I suppose it doesn't matter," she whispers finally. "If you really want to know..."
She turns away from you, taking a step back toward the closed door. With shaking hands, she lifts the hem of her dress, revealing legs covered in what look like metallic threads woven into the fabric. As if sensing your shocked expression, she glances over her shoulder at you before continuing.
"They... they said that I would be safe here. That this place had power. But now..." Her voice trails off again, her words seeming to fade away like mist in the morning sunlight. "I don't
them?
With a soft sigh, Rose continues her story, seemingly unable to resist the urge to confide in someone despite your earlier confrontation. "I don't remember much about how it happened... but they found me wandering the streets one night, alone and frightened. They offered me sanctuary, told me that if I let them... help me... then I would be safe from the disease." Her words are heavy with bitterness now, as if she regrets her choices all over again. "They said it was for a greater purpose, but I never knew what that was supposed to be..." "And you were following your heart," you interject gently. Rose glances at you in surprise before nodding slowly. "Yes... yes, I suppose I was." There's a long silence as she seems to contemplate this revelation, the weight of her own actions pressing down upon her like a physical burden.
Fin
At night, I was lying on the sofa in the room. I got up and went to her room, opened the door and peeked what she was doing.
The room is dark and shadowed, the only light filtering in through a small window near the ceiling. You can make out shapes on the floor, moving almost imperceptibly... They seem to writhe and shift as if alive. When you're close enough, you see that they are made of metal filaments, woven together into strange symbols and patterns.
In the center of it all stands Rose, her back turned to you as she focuses intently on something else in the room. Her hands move through intricate gestures in the air, almost like a dance... but there's an eerie calmness about her that belies the ferocity with which her movements seem to command the metal threads beneath her feet.
You watch for a moment longer before slowly creeping away from the door, feeling as if you've seen something forbidden and profoundly disturbing... something that you cannot quite comprehend or explain.