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{
(unless: $clicks > $clickThreshold)[
[[(either: "Smoke.", "Muffled voices.", "Distant chanting.", "Hazy memories.", "Fragrant herbs.", "Darkness.", "Forgotten questions.", "A sense of betrayal.", "Dried tears.", "Dry air.", "A sense of time passing.", "Regret.")|Start]]
]
(else:)[
(text-style: "rumble")[
[[A whirr of machinery...]]
]
]
(set: $clicks to it + 1)
}{
(enchant: ?Link, (color: #E9555C) + (text-style: "underline"))
(enchant: ?A, (align: "=><=")+(char-style: via (colour: (rgba: 166, 00, 00, (random: 4, 8) / 10))))
(enchant: ?M, (align: "<==")+(char-style: via (colour: (rgba: 00, 166, 00, (random: 4, 8) / 10))))
(enchant: ?T, (align: "==>")+(char-style: via (colour: (rgba: 00, 00, 166, (random: 4, 8) / 10))))
}(text-style: "rumble")[\
[[A rush of air.]]]{
(set: $clicks to 0)
(set: $clickThreshold to (random: 6, 11))
(set: $flare to true)
(set: $motivation to "none")
}(text-style: "rumble")[\
[[Shouting.]]][[OPEN YOUR EYES]]
[[GO BACK TO SLEEP]]The room is dark, but growing lighter.
Vast copper fans in the ceiling draw incense from the air.
Your head grows clearer.
|A>["We grow stronger."]
[[REMAIN STILL]]
[[LEAVE]]You hear voices:
|A>["Wait!"]
|T>["Listen!"]
|M>["Someone is coming!"]
[[OPEN YOUR EYES]]You take stock of your surroundings, and find that you are chained upright to a board.
Your limbs ache from holding this position, you know not for how long.
(display: "exit")You attempt to step towards the faint crack of light you recognise as coming from beneath a door, but your efforts are met with the hardness of iron and the clanking of chain.
Even within this small cell, you are restrained.
(display: "exit")|M>[It is wrong for you to be treated like this.]
|T>[But the air is clear now. We can set it right.]
You hear shouting in the distance.
[[STRUGGLE]]You strain against your chains. Your head is pounding.
From beyond the doorway there is a deafening boom.
[[REST]]
[[STRUGGLE HARDER]]|A>["Don't stop now!"]
[[STRUGGLE HARDER]]You continue to struggle, and as you do you feel a heat upon your wrists.
There is a dull, orange glow as your chains begin to melt and slough away.
Soon you are free.
[[APPROACH THE DOOR]]You walk forwards, but as you do so there is a growing hiss.
Smoke begins to swirl in from the corners of the room.
|T>[Hurry!]
|A>[Break down the door!]
|M>[There isn't much time!]
[[PUNCH]]
[[KICK]]You slam your fist against the door, and the wood cracks under the force.
[[PUNCH|PUNCH 2]]
[[KICK|KICK 2]]You kick the door, and it shudders wildly in its frame.
[[PUNCH|PUNCH 2]]
[[KICK|KICK 2]]Sweet smoke is already filling the air.
|T>[(opacity: 0.5)["You must hurry!"]]
You strike at the door again, but though the wood yields somewhat your knuckles also throb with pain.
[[PUNCH|PUNCH 3]]
[[KICK|KICK 3]]Sweet smoke is already filling the air.
|A>[(opacity: 0.5)["Again!"]]
You strike at the door again, but though it yields somewhat the force jarrs your leg.
[[PUNCH|PUNCH 3]]
[[KICK|KICK 3]]Your vision blurs.
|M>[(opacity: 0.2)["Do not fail us now..."]]
You swing your foot at the door once more, but succeed only in causing yourself to overbalance. You topple clumsily to the floor.
Through the haze and through the wood, you hear [[muffled yelling]].Your vision blurs.
|M>[(opacity: 0.2)["Do not fail us now..."]]
You beat at the door with your hand, but lack the strength even to do yourself an injury.
Through the haze and through the wood, you hear [[muffled yelling]].Despite your limp form slumped against it, [[the door opens]]."Come on!"
You find yourself being grabbed beneath the arms, dragged from the room.
[[The air is fresher here.]]"You have to run!"
|T>["You have to stand!"]
|M>["We have to leave."]
[[GET UP]]You try to stand, but your ankles feel numb. Your knees won't bend.
|A>["GET UP."]
[[DO AS THE VOICE SAYS]]You find yourself lifted.
Not by the woman dragging you along by the arms, but by some other force that causes her to flinch away.
|M>["Can we trust her?"]
|T>["We can trust her."]
|A>["Who but our servant would come here?"]
[[LOOK AT THE WOMAN]]She wears the robes of the temple, but her skin is weathered and sun-darkened. Her hands are rough.
|T>["She is an impostor."]
|M>["We can trust her."]
There is a noise from down the hallway, and her head snaps towards it.
[[You are no longer alone.]]You follow her gaze to find a priest levelling a crossbow down the hallway.
[[STEP IN FRONT OF THE WOMAN]]
[[DUCK BEHIND THE WOMAN]]|M>["NO!"]
[[You hesitate.]]You make a sudden lurch, and the priest looses the bolt.
The projectile whistles through the air, through your rescuer, then through the air once more. You feel it whip by your face as it passes.
|A>["A mortal frame provides only concealment - not cover."]
|T>["Still, it is a noble sacrifice."]
She slumps silently to the floor.
[[TEND TO HER|fight]]
[[IGNORE HER|fight]]The priest squeezes the trigger.
The woman lunges in front of you.
It is a pointless gesture. The slim bolt slips through her body like a needle through cloth.
You are saved only by your own sudden lurch to one side.
|T>["By our guidance."]
She slumps to the ground.
[[TEND TO HER|fight]]
[[IGNORE HER|fight]]The voices speak suddenly.
|T>["The priest!]
|T>["Quickly!]
|A>["Before he can draw the bow!"]
The priest already has his hand on the lever. There is a whirr of heavy clockwork as he strains to operate the mechanism.
[[FIGHT]]
[[FLEE]]You sprint towards the priest as the bowstring ratchets into place.
Realising he will have no time to load the bolt, he drops the weapon in favour of a tightly wrapped roll of paper stored on his belt.
Still running headlong towards him, you take a leap, catching him in the stomach with both feet. The two of you topple to the ground, but only he is winded.
You try to wrestle the crossbow from him, but it is looped over his shoulder with a sling: you succeed only in accidentally depressing the trigger. The empty bow lurches forwards with an unhealthy-sounding crack. Even if it remains functional, you have no time to reload it: already you hear [[sandals slapping against the flagstones behind you]].|A>["FOOL!"]
The voice protests, but does not resist. Rather, you feel its power pushing you onwards as you try to outrun the next bolt. Your feet seem to fly over the stones.
[[You reach the end of the hallway.]]You dart through the doorway to your right.
[[A bolt strikes chips of stone from the doorframe.]]In your haste, you nearly collide with a second priest.
He drops his own weapon - allowing it to hang on a sling across his shoulder - favouring instead a densely wrapped roll of paper that he snatches from a loop on his belt.
Remembering how the chains melted at your touch, [[you reach for this weapon]].|M>["No!"]
|T>["Like this!"]
You find yourself compelled to make a sudden lurch forward, your forehead catching the priest in the nose.
There is a crunch. Stumbling backwards, blinded by pain, he fumbles to take up his crossbow but succeeds only in launching a bolt into the floor.
|A>["Now finish it."]
[[OBEY]]
[[REFUSE]]You draw back your fist.
(display: "priest appears")You hesitate.
(display: "priest appears")Suddenly, the first priest rounds the corner.
In his hands is not the crossbow, but a tube of paper like the one you only now realise you are clutching yourself.
With a sharp twist, he wrenches a brass cap from the end, producing a shower of crackling sparks and a plume of incense.
|T>["HOLD YOUR BREATH."]
|A>["RUN."]
[[You do as they say.]]You take one turn, then another.
You do not know this place - the lingering smoke in your nostrils fogs even memories of who you are - but you feel your best chance of escape lies in putting as much distance as possible between yourself and wherever the priests might expect to find you. The risks of running right into one seem small compared to the folly of standing still.
But this place is a dungeon, and as you ascend a narrow staircase three steps at a time you find that it was built in such a way that all paths converge in [[one easily defensible place]].You turn to see another priest, clutching a familar roll of paper.
Recognising this as some new weapon, you snatch the one currently held by your writhing opponent.
But a voice protests:
|T>["Don't!]
The priest charging towards you twists a brass cap off the paper implement in his hand, causing it to flare with purple flame - a plume of incense following as he runs.
|A>["This one will try to help his fallen brother."]
|M>["For now, run."]
[[You do as they say.]]Here there is smoke and flame, but the smoke is not fragrant and the flame is fierce.
Black tendrils of ash extend from a small crater in the floor. Around it there are fragments of machinery, lifeless human forms. Above your head a buckled iron door grinds against its rails, trying in vain to close.
Out of the corner of your eye [[you see movement]].There is a follower of the temple here, clutching a shard of copper plate that has pierced his torso.
He shuffles away from you on one elbow, towards a speaking-tube mounted on the wall.
|A>["KILL HIM."]
Before you can resist, a slab of fallen masonry is in your hands. But the task of lifting it takes long enough that you have a moment to consider your options.
[[OBEY|KILL OBEY]]
[[REFUSE|KILL REFUSE]]There is a brief scream, then [[stillness and silence]].You cast the slab away, realising as you do so that the peculiar roll of paper is still curled within the outermost fingers of your right hand.
|A>["No."]
|M>["These people have wronged us."]
|T>["It is the only way."]
[[ACQUIESCE]]
[[RESIST|KILL REFUSE 2]]You stare at the body, one limp arm outstretched towards the mouthpiece of the speaking tube.
|M>["This was one of our captors."]
|T>["This was justified."]
You have no time to think on it further. There is a door here, unguarded.
[[You move on.]][[You take up the slab once more.|KILL OBEY]]Some will within you - no, more than one - will not accept this refusal.
You feel compelled to pick up the slab once more.
Instead, you grip the brass cap of the paper roll.
|M>["No."]
Against your will, you release it. Still, you try again.
|M>["No!"]
Once more your own hand fails you, but still you try.
|M>["NO!"]
[[PERSIST]]
[[ACQUIESCE]]Though you sense a great desperation, the foreign will within you tires faster than your own.
You grasp the brass cap firmly and prepare to pull.
|A>["Enough!"]
|T>["We will yield."]
Now leaning against the wall, the follower of the temple reaches up and drags the mouthpiece of the speaking tube to his lips.
"A vessel is loose!" he coughs into it. "Send help! Send..."
The mouthpice slips from his hand and retracts into its place in the wall. He stares at you with a pale, uncomprehending face.
|M>["Was that worthwhile?"]
[[You move on.]]This place - as you have begun to suspect - was built well below ground.
But now you are drawing close to the surface.
|T>["They took your name..."]
|M>["As they took our titles."]
|T>["They took your past..."]
|A>["As they took our birthright."]
You reach the top of the staircase.
[[You see sunlight at last.]]Here is the temple: not merely the idea, but the place of wood and stone.
Inside there are offerings piled high in gilded boxes.
|T>["Things given by those who have not enough to give."]
|M>["Things taken by those who have too much already."]
A gang of vagabonds stares at you in surprise and horror, caught in the process of filling their pockets. One of them begins to run, yet his only route out takes him close to you.
[[PUNISH]]
[[FORGIVE]]You take a turnip from a chest of tithes and hurl it with all the force you can muster.
There is a spray of blood. The vagabond falls, as though struck by a slingstone.
|T>["We did not require this."]
|M>["Yet is it not fair?"]
|A>["It was the priests that first stole these riches."]
The rest of the small crowd scatters. You make no attempt to stop them.
[[Already you can hear a commotion from outside.]]You let this first one run. The others soon follow.
|M>["You allow this?"]
|A>["What reason do we have to guard the temple's wealth?"]
You can think of none. But as the sound of the vagabonds footfalls begins to fade, [[you begin to hear others approaching|Already you can hear a commotion from outside.]].A glance through the temple doors reveals priests running through the street, not in sandals but steel-shod boots.
They come in formation, those in the front bearing cudgels and those behind hooked spears.
[[RUN THROUGH THE DOORS]]
[[BARRICADE THE DOORS]]You flee the temple, hoping to be mistaken as part of the crowd of vagabonds you just expelled.
However, something - perhaps your manner or your dress - gives you away immediately. The army of priests begins to converge.
A crossbow bolt whistles by as you [[duck into an alleyway]].The priests quicken their pace, but cannot prevent you from hauling the heavy doors closed and dropping the bar across them.
However, their blows against the wood - and particularly a narrow spear-head hooked beneath the bar - threaten to undo your effort.
|A>["This can be addressed."]
You plant both palms against the doors, and the weathered oak begins to burn as brightly as sap-rich pine. The shouting from outside is drowned out by sudden distance and crackling flame.
A cursory glance of the temple's ground floor suggests there is nobody else here, but even if there is you cannot imagine them approaching this blaze to lift the bar.
|T>["Now to the spire.]
You turn your attention [[the stairs]].|T>["HOLD YOUR BREATH."]
|A>["LIGHT IT NOW."]
Suddenly you remember the roll of paper in your hand.
[[TWIST OFF THE CAP]]|M>["NOW DROP IT."]
You do so, and find your path obscured by a thick haze of smoke.
Your flight from the city is no more than a blur - succeeding more through good fortune than by design - but it succeeds all the same.
|A>["We are free now, all of us."]
|T>["But we must return someday."]
|M>["Yes - there is much we've left behind."]
You stare at your ash-blackened hand.
[[There is one thing you in particular have left behind.]]It was, you think, the only leverage you might have had over these voices.
(text-style: "expand")[(click: "~END~")[(restart:)]]~END~[[You cannot recall how you got here.]][[You are not certain who you were.]][[All you have is your fire...]][[...and the place you need to reach.]]High above the city, in a room just beneath the ornate roof, you find it.
"I knew you would come here."
The High Priest sets a honey-soaked pastry down on the banquet table before him and wipes his mouth with a crisp white cloth.
"Even the devils' actions are dictated by the gods."
[[RESPOND]]
[[REMAIN SILENT|RESPOND]]|A>["It was not the gods' will that brought me here."]
The voice that escapes your lips is not your own.
"Silence."
The High Priest raises a hand. On the hand is a ring. On the ring is a gem.
[[The gem briefly fills you with a fear that is not your own.]]As you gaze upon the gem's light, you become aware of a silence inside your skull that you have not known for a very long time - though you sense that it is not a silence that would last were you to look away.
"Everybody has a place," explains the High Priest, "and everybody has a purpose."
He pauses to regard the table before him, and the opulence surrounding him. He smiles.
"Some places, some purposes, are easier than others of course. The people out there..." he gestures to an open window, "toil for the glory of the gods. The people in here see that their toil is rightly directed. Each task is difficult in its own way."
He spreads his arms.
"If you would trade either of these tasks for your own, I will gladly give it to you. But know this: your task, and the task of all those below this temple, is the easiest of all. For it is only [[to sleep]]."He points out the item you still clutch in your hand.
"You have an incense flare. If you wish to return to your noble work - to confining the demons that would otherwise bring evil upon the innocent - you need only light it. But if you wish not to..."
He claps. Two servants emerge from a side-chamber, dragging with them a figure with a bag over its head.
"...there are always others who could take your place."
[[LIGHT THE FLARE]]
[[DON'T LIGHT THE FLARE]]
[[THROW THE FLARE FROM THE WINDOW]]{
(set: $clicks to 0)
(set: $clickThreshold to (random: 6, 11))
}Your actions uncontested, you twist the brass cap from the flare.
Pungent smoke envelops you and the room begins to dim.
"The gods often choose to test us," says the High Priest, standing over you, smiling, "but [[their will is always done]]."You accept the High Priest's offer with...
[[SINCERITY]]
[[MALICE AFORETHOUGHT]](set: $flare to false)You cast the flare through the open window.
The High Priest raises an eyebrow.
"A little dramatic," he says, "but as clear a response as I could ever wish."
[[He gestures for his servants to do their work.|DON'T LIGHT THE FLARE]]{
(unless: $clicks > $clickThreshold)[
[[(either: "Smoke.", "Muffled voices.", "Distant chanting.", "Hazy memories.", "Fragrant herbs.", "Darkness.", "Forgotten questions.", "A sense of betrayal.", "Dried tears.", "Dry air.", "A sense of time passing.", "Regret.")|their will is always done]]
]
(else:)[
(text-style: "expand")[(click: "~END~")[(restart:)]](live: 1s)[~END~(stop:)]
]
(set: $clicks to it + 1)
}(set: $motivation to "sincerity")Even if you cannot know exactly how long you were chained down in the dark, you know you do not want to go back.
(display: "ritual")(set: $motivation to "malice")You can see plainly enough that to openly reject this offer would not end well. But still, you have no intention of going along with it.
(display: "ritual")[[He guides you to one edge.]]The High Priest takes up a staff, capped with a small cylinder of chalk. With this, he draws a circle on the floor.
[[He has the prisoner hauled into the centre.]][[He places a hand upon your forehead.]]{
(if: $motivation is "malice")[
[[You break his finger.]]
]
(else:)[
[[You feel a great burden gradually lifted.]]
]
}The High Priest wails, screaming every invocation he can think of to command the forces within you.
|T>["But it is not our will at work."]
|M>["It is yours."]
|A>["Now give him to us."]
[[DO AS REQUESTED]]
[[REFUSE|REFUSE PRIEST]]Soon you are no longer aware of any will within you but your own.
The High Priest turns to his two servants.
"Find some robes for our new follower."
(text-style: "expand")[(click: "~END~")[(restart:)]]~END~[[You pull the ring from the High Priest's hand.]]|A>["Very well."]
|M>["If you must have your revenge..."]
One of the servants has by now drawn a dagger.
[[You find yourself hurling the High Priest onto its point.]][[The other servant flees.]]|A>["And now there are none left to oppose us."]
|T>["Our will is uncontested."]
|M>["This world is rightly ours."]
[[You look down at your hand.]](if: $flare is false)[But it is no longer yours.
(text-style: "expand")[(click: "~END~")[(restart:)]]~END~]\
(else:)[Somehow, after all the commotion, [[you are still holding the flare]].]|A>["No!"]
|T>["You fool!"]
|M>["You'll doom us all!"]
[[You twist the brass cap from the flare.]][[Pungent smoke envelops you.|their will is always done]][[Then you press your head to his.]]When you at last push him away to inspect his face, you find it is not his at all. He speaks:
|M>["We will remember this kindness."]
|T>["As so few are ever kind to us."]
|A>["The tribute demanded by the temple will be mere scraps compared to the tribute that we'll share."]
After a hesitant glance shared between themselves, the High Priest's servants bow to him once more.
[[BOW YOURSELF]](if: $flare is true)[
[[REFUSE TO BOW]]]What good would it do to resist?
And do you even want to?
You bow to the figures you have brought into the world.
And that world begins to change.
(text-style: "expand")[(click: "~END~")[(restart:)]]~END~You refuse to bow.
[[Instead, you look down at your hand.]]Somehow, after all the commotion, [[you are still holding the flare|flare 2]].[[You twist off the brass cap.]]As you do so, the High Priest's face contorts into a snarl.
[[His eyes erupt with flame.]][[But so too does the flare.]]You hold the burning incense before you as the High Priest [[lunges at you]].[[As he shies away, coughing.]][[As he stumbles.]][[Crawls.]][[Sleeps.]]His own servants carry him to your old chamber.
(text-style: "expand")[(click: "~END~")[(restart:)]]~END~