AeonQuest Part Three: Solus.

Hand of Maybe:
  **VI / XX / MMXVII**
  [Continuation, beginning, ending. Only the first is real. Enact it once more?]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Of course.

Emerald:
  >continue!

Hand of Maybe:
  <http://music.disasterpeace.com/track/age>
  [There are three goals, and three things you should not attempt.]
  [Communion with the shadows in your mind. Dominion over nothing and everything, never. Evolution beyond the little flickers of darkness.]
  [The Wheel of Night turns evermore.]
  **PT. 3: SOLUS.**
  [...]
  [The depths sing to you, murmuring twisted promises and dark prophecies as you awaken once more.]
  [Your name is Cinavi Kanera, and you’re starting to think that’s all there is to it. Period.]

Emerald:
  >wonder what our life has come to that this keeps happening
  >just once can we go to sleep and wake up where we slept?

Hand of Maybe:
  [You contemplate your existence. If you had to guess, it'd be some sick and twisted monster behind a computer manipulating it all.]

Emerald:
  >examine surrounding area

Hand of Maybe:
  [You appear to be leaning against some odd stone curvature. Pushing yourself up to a standing position, you observe your surroundings. If the smell and the water is any indication, you appear to be in a sewer.]

TwinBuilder:
  nice

Emerald:
  >wander around, making sure not to fall into the water

TwinBuilder:
  anything of interest?

Hand of Maybe:
  [There's a series of red arrows spray-painted on the walls, all pointing to a specific branch-off pipe of the place.]

Emerald:
  Follow it?

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Follow the arrows.

TwinBuilder:
  go there

Bomber57:
  go

Hand of Maybe:
  [You follow the arrows.]
  [The tunnel through which you traverse seems to slowly dry out the further you go. Soom, there is no water at all in the chamber, yet you still head forth.]

Emerald:
  >review Inventory, including what is inside the Hazel Box

Hand of Maybe:
  __Inventory.__
| [Thaumium Knife] | [Quill] | [Four Empty Books w/ TLoL Page & Bill Page] |
| [2 Bottles of Ink] | [Blank Papers] | [Hazel Box, Magetear Smoking Kit] |
| [Voidmetal Plate Armor] | [Bloodstained Crimson Robes] | [Vial of Water] |
Wearing: Mage’s Cloak, Conjurer’s Artifice.
Fragments of the Ring: ∂, μ.
Fragments of the Nightmare: 1.

TwinBuilder:
  hm
  go back
  were there any other paths besides the one with arrows?

Hand of Maybe:
  [One heading straight, yes.]

TwinBuilder:
  take that one instead
  maybe there's hidden loot

Hand of Maybe:
  [You turn, and take the opposite path. After a few minutes of walking, you can see a small light in the distance.]

Emerald:
  >onwards!

TwinBuilder:
  hm
  what if the loot was in the path with the arrows instead...

Hand of Maybe:
  [Rightwards, or forward. Make a definitive decision for the moment.]

TwinBuilder:
  forwards
  i'm assuming we can just backtrack

Hand of Maybe:
  [You head onwards.]
  [The light becomes slightly more distinct, in the dark dampness of the sewers. It appears to be coming from a... campfire, of some sort?]

Emerald:
  >head over to campfire

TwinBuilder:
  ^

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. There, sitting in the lotus position in a circle of dryness in these wet depths, is a bearded old man, with a Logogram stamped on his forehead and one hand holding a carven pipe emitting nebulaic smoke.]

TwinBuilder:
  it's Alma, right?

Emerald:
  Gee I wonder who it is

Hand of Maybe:
  [Almaerapha, you mean.]

TwinBuilder:
  yes.

Hand of Maybe:
  [He doesn't look at you.]

TwinBuilder:
  "How do you keep following us?"

Hand of Maybe:
  [He laughs.]
**Almaerapha: It seems that *you* are the one following me, doesn't it?**

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Good point.

TwinBuilder:
  "Depends on your point of view."

Hand of Maybe:
  **Almaerapha: You're not the center of the universe, Cinavi Kanera. Not even this one.**

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Are you the centre of the universe?
  > Or at least this one?

Hand of Maybe:
  **Almaerapha: No.**
  **Almaerapha: Well, yes and no.**

TwinBuilder:
  "Could you explain?"

Hand of Maybe:
  **Almaerapha: Of course not.**

TwinBuilder:
  "Thought so."

Hand of Maybe:
  [Almaerapha chuckles at that.]

TwinBuilder:
  "Did we miss anything by not following those arrows, by the way?"

Hand of Maybe:
  **Almaerapha: Sometimes, two paths in the world converge at the same spot upon a much larger one, given enough time.**

Emerald:
  >"thank you for that straightforward answer"

TwinBuilder:
  "Fair enough, I guess."
  "Do you have any advice for us on our travels through this level of the nightmare?"

Hand of Maybe:
  **Almaerapha: Oh, yes. I do. Many pieces of advice. But I shall only tell you this. The ability to ignore the reality of the world is what makes the insane so powerful.**

Emerald:
  >"so in other words, I reject your reality and substitute my own"

Hand of Maybe:
  **Almaerapha: If you ever tried to do that, I would kill you.**

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  Nah, we need more drugs.

TwinBuilder:
  "Nice to know."

Emerald:
  >"I was quoting something"

Hand of Maybe:
  **Almaerapha: *More*, you say?**

TwinBuilder:
  Did we ever use the ones we took from him in the first place?

Emerald:
  Against the creativity thing, which I believe was your own idea

TwinBuilder:
  oh yeah
  "Yeah, sure."

Hand of Maybe:
  [The man raises a graying eyebrow, offering a second pipe to you out of nowhere.]
**Almaerapha: The question then becomes whether you shall stay and enjoy this moment in nonexistent existent existence with me, in cosmic smoke, or instead save your time, and march forth into the great unknown.**

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Let us shall.
  ...
  A

Emerald:
  What

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  fuck it I'm not changing it

Emerald:
  "Let us shall"-Consumer, 2017

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > March forth into the great unknown.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You've just made two conflicting decisions within the span of a minute, single person.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  I meant """let us shall""" to marching forth into the great unknown

Hand of Maybe:
  [You blink as you prepare to set out. It looks like the second pipe was never there at all.]
**Almaerapha: Very well. Do enjoy your dreams.**

Emerald:
  >"what would happen if we used the Stuff of Nightmares here?"

Hand of Maybe:
  [You look back once walking away, and he's gone, as is the campfire.]

Emerald:
  >"ok then"

Hand of Maybe:
  [As you stride forth, you notice two paths. One, a metal-rung service ladder built into the wall of the sewer. Two, a rightward turn.]

Emerald:
  >idly wonder what happened to the red arrow path, and go rightward

Hand of Maybe:
  [You took the path that was *not* the red arrow one.]
  [In any case, you head right. This path is long and dark. You assume that the end of the tunnel will eventually come, however. If you walk long enough.]

Emerald:
  >walk long enough

Hand of Maybe:
  [You walk. And you walk. And you walk. For what seems like hours.]
  [The ever-present darkness in the corners of your vision twists and twitches occasionally, accompanied by a throb of pain in your head.]
  [You take one more step forward, and find yourself falling from the wall of a massive stone-brick room to the floor painfully.]

Emerald:
  >ow
  >check new surroundings

Hand of Maybe:
  [The place appears to be some sort of mass-storage chamber. Wooden boxes nailed shut are piled high in stacks up to ten meters tall all across the place, in a somewhat-orderly fashion.]

Crystal:
  Hm. Examine the wooden boxes closer.

Emerald:
  >pry open boxes with knife

Hand of Maybe:
  [Each appears to be stamped individually on their side with some string of identification digits and numerals. Ѯ-31A, Δ-6, 113-111, Ω-5082, Ч-COS, and so on.]

TwinBuilder:
  could we pry them open with our knife?

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Open Ч-COS.
  If possible.

Hand of Maybe:
  [How?]

Emerald:
  >with knife

Hand of Maybe:
  [Do you plan to destroy the boxes outright? These things appear to be nailed together too tightly for direct prying.]

Crystal:
  Hm. How large are the boxes?

Hand of Maybe:
  [The size varies. Ч-COS, in particular, is about a meter and a half in length, a meter in width, and a meter in height.]

TwinBuilder:
  could we use the logogram?
  try it out, see if it hurts.

Hand of Maybe:
  [What do you mean precisely, "use the Logogram."]

Emerald:
  >are you sure those boxes are locked?

TwinBuilder:
  use the logogram to reveal that the nails are actually super old and busted, and don't work very well, meaning that we can open all the boxes.

Emerald:
  >I could have sworn there was a box that had a loose lid

Hand of Maybe:
  [You seem to find that all of these boxes seem to be nailed securely and with stable and healthy nails, as per what appears to be the standards of Vivobivean Grayhold.]

TwinBuilder:
  does our wrist hurt

Hand of Maybe:
  [Not really.]

Emerald:
  >screw this. Slash at the box once

Crystal:
  No
  Kind of mentally query the Logogram for 'charge', ease of use, et cetera.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You have no idea how you might go about doing that, nor whether or not it would actually *work*.]

Crystal:
  Hm.
  Okay.

Bomber57:
  What defines a box, really? A room could be described as a box, and rooms are usually nailed together quite well. Perhaps the contents of those boxes were actually described as being inside a room, which you are also in.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You don't find the contents of the box on the floor suddenly, but you *do* find yourself inside the box.]

TwinBuilder:
  ah fuck

Crystal:
  Examine contents of box.

Bomber57:
  Do we have a light?

Crystal:
  This works.

TwinBuilder:
  ^

Bomber57:
  ^

Hand of Maybe:
  [You don't have a light. Unless you intend to burn some cloth, and possibly light the box on fire.]
  [But, you examine what you can see inside the box.]
  [There appears to be a carefully-stacked structure of odd cylindrical vials of an odd *slightly* violet-tinged glass within. Wait, no. Now it's fire-tinted. Now it's red-tinted. Yellow? Whatever.]

TwinBuilder:
  Multikolorit?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Surely not. There's no flame of any sort within these vials.]

TwinBuilder:
  ah.
  take one, if we have room.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Your inventory is full.]

Emerald:
  We might want to get rid of the robes

Bomber57:
  Oh boy, inventory management. I approve getting rid of the robes tbh. Kind of gross anyway.

Hand of Maybe:
  [For perspective, you've been carrying around a full suit of voidmetal plate armor that doesn't even *fit* you and torn bloodstained crimson robes for what feels like days.]

Emerald:
  >get rid of the robes

Hand of Maybe:
  [You just sort of remove them from your inventory. As if feeling your intent, they disintegrate into disgusting bloodstained red ashes as you hold them in your hands.]

Emerald:
  >"ew"

Bomber57:
  Gross. Grab the vial now that we have room.

Emerald:
  >how do you bloodstain ashes?

Hand of Maybe:
  [You grab one *COSMIA*. Also, good question, but it's a thing that happened anyways. That's just how life is, here in the nightmare. You live, you burn shit, you die, and then your corpse's garments dissolve into ash that has blood on it.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  hm
  > Inspect Cosmia.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Cosmia: A perfectly-cylindrical vial made of a peculiar glass whose color changes based upon either the lighting, or the angle at which you observe it. You're not sure. Must have been cooked with multikolorit as a supplement. Either way, the thing is filled with a substance you can only describe as... tears of stars and ash. Hmm. Perhaps that's not quite the correct phrasing. *Stardust*, you think.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  Hm nice

Emerald:
  >move to a different box using Bomber logic

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > No

Bomber57:
  What's in the boooox. Oh wait we are.

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > We are not in a box

Hand of Maybe:
  [Yes, you are.]
  [It's rather cramped.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > No we aren't

Hand of Maybe:
  [You absolutely are.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Pics or it didn't happen

Emerald:
  (Kek)

PitTheAngel:
  You're not in the box, and you can prove it picturally.
  https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/324262573451247616/326809829110710282/hmm.png

Hand of Maybe:
  https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/324262573451247616/326809864347189248/box.jpg

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  that arrow over there
  notice how it ends just outside the box
  we are just outside of the box

Bomber57:
  Don't you guys see how thin the left wall of the box is? Just kick it open.

Emerald:
  I've noticed said box also is missing a side, which we exit out of

Hand of Maybe:
  [Not true, eh, and no. Respectively.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  Why isn't it true.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Because I say so.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  We're just outside of the box.

Crystal:
  No, you see. You were outside the box just a minute ago, and haven't moved at all. You were outside the box. You're still outside the box.

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  Didn't we prove that your will wasn't absolute a few sessions back
  You're clearly on drugs dude

Hand of Maybe:
  [You find that you are now outside the box, and the Bloodstained Crimson Robes are now in their rightful place in your inventory. Looks like that entire exchange *never even happened*. You were outside the box the entire time, apparently.]

Bomber57:
  Sheeeit.

Emerald:
  >did we just get retconned?

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  no we were always outside of the box

Hand of Maybe:
  [Now what?]

Emerald:
  >pierce a hole in the box

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so, opening the box. It appears there's nothing inside.]

Emerald:
  ~~with your drill~~

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Are you sure there's nothing inside.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Yes.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > We just had a dream about seeing *Cosmia* inside the box
  > And we're a prophetic dreamer

Hand of Maybe:
  [No, you didn't. That's a pretty vivid imagination you have there, though.]

Emerald:
  >thanks

Hand of Maybe:
  [You had no such dreams, because you're already dreaming, aren't you?]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Ever heard of this niche movie called Inception?

Hand of Maybe:
  [That has nothing to do with anything. You can move along on your way now.]

Emerald:
  >open all boxes by stabbing them

Hand of Maybe:
  [Are you sure you want to do that.]

Emerald:
  >not at all

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > It proves that you can dream inside a dream.

Hand of Maybe:
  [What will you do, then? If you're not going to go around, stabbing boxes like a serial killer.]

Bomber57:
  Cereal is contained in boxes. Thus we are a box killer. We are so effective against boxes that they just spill their contents into neat little piles on the floor for us to rummage through as we please.

Crystal:
  Dammit. So, let's see. We lost Cosmia, and exited the box.

TwinBuilder:
  look around for something with which we can use to open the box

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Realise that there is Cosmia in the box, of course.

Hand of Maybe:
  [There isn't. In fact, there is no box there at all, and I have no idea what you're talking about. In fact, there are *no* boxes around. Except for one against the far wall of the room.]

Bomber57:
  Yes, the chosen one. We must open the exception!

JOE:
  >look in that one?

Hand of Maybe:
  [How?]

Crystal:
  We have special eyes, of course.

JOE:
  >do we have the logogram rn?

Hand of Maybe:
  [It is of note, as well, to say that this box's side is marked with a large painted ø in black ink. And, yes.]

JOE:
  >try to open the box
  >if this fails, use the logogram and notice a box opener hidden behind the box, from your view.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You can't. It's nailed together too tightly. And there's no box opener anywhere. *Certainly* not *behind* this box, which is directly up against the wall.]

:mspa::
  Just a reminder: This log is still going on. Type :endlog: to end it. This message wil **not** appear in the log.

JOE:
  >its up against the wall
in that case, clearly whoever made the box wouldn't expect anyone to carve a path through the wall, and would not build any box-wall there

Hand of Maybe:
  [You know what? Sure. The box does not have a back face.]

JOE:
  >realise your knife also functions as a teleporter phase device from Boxproblemsolvers INC, founded by JOE 2^^^2 years ago.
(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Knuth%27s_up-arrow_notation) use it to teleport away part of the wall, letting you stretch your hand into the box and feel around.

Emerald:
  Good job JOE

JOE:
  I've lived a long and storied life
  like my friend fred

Hand of Maybe:
  [It doesn't. That's not how thaumium knives work. But you can move the box so you can see what's inside, if you want, now that you know it doesn't have a back face.]

JOE:
  >ok, sure, do that

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do that. There's nothing inside the box.]

TwinBuilder:
  nice.

JOE:
  >wait, in dreams vision is uncertain. you said this was a dream earlier. as well, in dreams things respond to intuition

Hand of Maybe:
  [Not this one.]

JOE:
  >you can't have all that happen and nothing to show for it. that would be a waste of cognitive space in whatever simulator is running the dream
  >it would just skip to completion- which it did not do.
  >as such, you must be having a mild bout of unreliable dream understanding
  >close your eyes for 1/2 a second and open them. there will be something useful in the box when you do

Hand of Maybe:
  [You close your eyes and open them again. There's still nothing in the box. Wow.]

JOE:
  >hm...
  >maybe moving the box untriggered a hidden pressure plate, which will drop a useful item where the box was in exactly- oh, there it goes.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You must be going crazy. No useful items have fallen from some upward direction.]
  [In fact, all of this hard imaginationizing has sent a hot spike of pain through your right wrist. Such stress. Much pain. Wow.]

JOE:
  wait what

Bomber57:
  Golly goo, where to?

Emerald:
  >analyze surroundings again
  We can always serial kill boxes with our knife

Hand of Maybe:
  [The large room is *entirely* empty, save for you and this one box. There are no doors, and no potential openings at all.]

JOE:
  [what created this dream?]
  [like, where does everything in it come from?]

Hand of Maybe:
  [Good question.]

JOE:
  [do we know on what computer or other thinking device the simulation of this enviroment is running on? any ideas?]

Hand of Maybe:
  [No.]

JOE:
  [how did we arive here again?]
[ i wasn' tpresent]
  [Or, what happened directly prior to our arrival?]

Hand of Maybe:
  [You were walking in some sewers, and now you're here.]

JOE:
  [so we just all of a sudden ended up here?]

Hand of Maybe:
  [Pretty much.]

Bomber57:
  Logs are a thing, my friend.

JOE:
  [the logs are probably hundreds of messages long]
  [i'd rather spend a few minutes asking to catch up then half an hour]

Bomber57:
  Yeah and you can read them with these two things between your ears called eyes.

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  let us move on from the box

JOE:
  [hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm]
[where we tired prior?]
[was there anything weird about these sewers?]
[if we had spontanously fallen unconsious in the sewers, would be have drowned in sludge, or where we on solid ground at the time?]
  [come to think of it how do we know this is a dream?]
  [text promp saying 'this is a dream
  ?]

Bomber57:
  I don't think boxquest is going to have any fruitful results at this point. Let's just get out of this roooooooooooooom.

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  ^^^^

Hand of Maybe:
  [I'm not going to answer any of those questions. It's all in the logs.]

Bomber57:
  SO. Big room, nothing but you and a box, and no doors. Alright, this is a good start. :V

Hand of Maybe:
  [What do you do?]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  what do you mean no doors

Hand of Maybe:
  [I mean there are no doors.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  any other types of exits?

Hand of Maybe:
  [No.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > we are now the box

Emerald:
  >check Hazel Box

JOE:
  >are there *Any* details to this room beyond 'is room, big, us, box'?

Bomber57:
  Be one with the box.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You check the Hazel Box. There are two moderately large vials of labeled fluid in two compartments of the box, one clear reading "ЧЛОРПРОМАЗИНЕ", and one tinted slightly red reading "ѲЫБИТАЛ". The former is about half-full of liquid, the latter about eighty-five percent full. There are five syringes in the largest compartment of the box, along with a roll of bandages, a vial of what you think is magetear, a Magetear Smoking Kit, and a small lower compartment containing what you think are empty, used syringes.]
  [You attempt to be the box. You get nothing but a hot spike of pain through your right wrist for your troubles.]

Emerald:
  >remember that we had two syringes of the Stuff of Nightmares, but only ever used one

Hand of Maybe:
  [This is true.]

Emerald:
  Should we inject ourselves guys? There doesn't seem to be any other way out

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Use Magetear Smoking Kit to smoke magetear

Emerald:
  Or do that

Hand of Maybe:
  [Are you sure?]

Crystal:
  Smoke the magetear, say I.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Oh, yes. That reminds me. The one box in the room is about two meters tall, two meters wide, and two meters long.]
  [This is pretty substantially taller than you are.]

Emerald:
  >try to climb box

Hand of Maybe:
  [You climb to the top of the box. There's nothing on top.]

Emerald:
  >inject ourselves with the Stuff of Nightmares, says I

JOE:
  >nah

Bomber57:
  I dunno push the box a bit maybe it's on something like one of those puuuuzzles.

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > GET IN THE BOX

Hand of Maybe:
  [You get in the box.]

Bomber57:
  we did it reddit

Hand of Maybe:
  [Next thing you know, you're falling through the floor.]
  [You hit what appears to be some sort of hard metal floor with a soft *thump.*]

Emerald:
  >what the actual shit is psychics here
  >examine surroundings

Hand of Maybe:
  [You appear to be in an elevator.]
  [And an old one, at that. Brass, rickety, and with half-opened sides serving as windows of crisscrossing brass bars.]

Crystal:
  Examine the buttons of the elevator, if there are any.

Hand of Maybe:
  [There's only one button. Floor ▼.]

Bomber57:
  Press iiiit.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. With a start and a rattle, the elevator makes its slow downward descent through what appears to be a featureless black void, if your looking out the windows is any indication.]

Bomber57:
  Listen to what you hope is elevator music while you wait.

Hand of Maybe:
  [When do you think this is? 207̃017? We don't have such fancy devices here in the nightmare. You get the cold soundlessness of BLACK FEATURELESS SPACE for your personal enjoyment, you hear me?]

Crystal:
  Imagine elevator music, then.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do that. Before you know it, the industrial cage light above your head blinks green, and the doors of the elevator emit a click.]

Emerald:
  >step out and examine new surroundings

Hand of Maybe:
  [You manually open the doors, and step into a new room.]
  [This one quite clearly bears the architecture of Erelyean Grayhold Citadel. In an odd way, however. Some sort of underground bunker part of it, perhaps? You are in a small room with a low ceiling. There is another door to the right of a desk/control panel  beneath some sort of rectangular blast window, and a variety of other machines, devices, and screens on the left wall.]

Bomber57:
  >Approach and examine the desk/control panel

Hand of Maybe:
  [It appears to consist of two main parts. Well, four, if you look hard enough. The primary thing appears to be a set of about forty-nine switches in three rows. Above that is a bar that displays nine lights; three triads of three, along with a red button, a red switch, and a blinking matrix of odd lights. The first light of the first triad is already lit up green. The third part of this particular control panel is a panel of some sort affixed to the wall beside the blast window, tilted slightly to face you. It is composed of one large vertical screen broken up into six segments, top to bottom. The final part of this panel is on the rightmost face of the desk, right next to the door. It appears to be another screen-panel, depicting a square broken up into four equal segments.]
  [The desk portion of the thing also has an open book upon it.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  oh
  oh gos
  > We know how to use this.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Do you?]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  Yes.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Then do it. With specifics.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > For now, go through the door if possible.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You pull the massive blast door open, and step out. It appears to be the exact same room as the one you can see from the blast window above the desk. A large upside-down triangular device with a hole in the center dominates the room.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Inspect device.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Other than the qualities just described, it is of note to state that the circular hole in the triangle is bordered by some sort of ring split up into fifteen segments.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  Hm.
  > This is a portal and it is open.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Pain wracks your body in waves, traveling forth from your right wrist.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  *railroaded*
  fuck
  the heat is killing me

Bomber57:
  Well back to the previous room. Our answer/weird puzzle shit probably lies in there.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You go back into what appears to be the control room.]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > Inspect the first triad of lights and switches.

Hand of Maybe:
  [The triads of lights appear to indicate when a section of the panel is active and properly-functioning. As was aforementioned, only one light on the first triad is on.]
  [The switches are in a bizarre configuration you don't really think you should be messing with.]

Crystal:
  Oh, hey.

Bomber57:
  >Examine the two panels. First the one with six segments, then the other with four segments.

Crystal:
  Is this.

Bomber57:
  Yeah it is.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You examine both. Each appears to have a keyboard attached to it with a variety of symbols marked upon the keys. Practically any piece of punctuation or letter of a different alphabet you could even think of.]

Crystal:
  Alright. The six.
  Top, try del.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. Nothing happens whatsoever, beside a ∂ appearing in the top segment of the screen.]

Crystal:
  Mu second.
  (μ)

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so.]

Crystal:
  Sigma, third. √ fourth, lemniscate fifth, solidus sixth and last.

Hand of Maybe:
  [The screen blinks green, and the second light on the first triad of the desk/control panel lights up to join the first.]

Crystal:
  The four.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Yes. There's a top left slot, a top right slot, a bottom left slot, and a bottom right slot.]

Crystal:
  Nebula, stardust, vortex, solar.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Those symbols are not on the keyboard.]

TwinBuilder:
  this is a 2x2 grid, no?

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  solidus
  interpunct
  del
  ellipsis

Hand of Maybe:
  [The screen flashes green. Third light of the first triad lights up.]

Crystal:
  There we go.

TwinBuilder:
  that was the ramz

Hand of Maybe:
  [The other two triads of lights are still entirely blank.]

Crystal:
  Hm. What else is there to manipulate.

TwinBuilder:
  oh shit

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  > press the red button?

TwinBuilder:
  are the fifteen behenian fixed stars present on the keyboard

Hand of Maybe:
  [You look around. There are two devices that pique your interest. Foremost, a keyboard/trajectory screen and terminal, and a keyboard that only possesses number keys, and a tall single panel directly to the left of that with a touchscreen and some lettering at the top.]
  [And, which keyboard?]

TwinBuilder:
  any of them

Hand of Maybe:
  [On one you find hidden beneath the inclined panel of switches, yes.]

TwinBuilder:
  hm.
  press the one with polaris, see if anything happens

Hand of Maybe:
  [You press the Polaris key. The red switch on the switch panel automatically flips down, and a long rectangular screen about the length of the blast window descends from the ceiling, strings of data and information in a language you cannot read rolling across the screen constantly. A segment of the device in the room beyond the blast window visibly glows red for a second, and the symbol on it changes to that of Polaris.]

Crystal:
  Read the lettering at the top of the single panel.

Hand of Maybe:
  [It reads "*Diagonales acies.*"]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  oh
  okay that means diagonal lines or something

Hand of Maybe:
  [What do you do?]

BIG. STRONG. TREMENDOUS.:
  ((honestly i'm burning to death and ill prolly sleep))
  ((sorry about that))

Crystal:
  Hm. Draw a diagonal line on the touchscreen, perhaps.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. It quickly disappears, and the first light of the second triad blinks on. The words on the touchscreen change to "*Derelictum fragmenta.*"]

Crystal:
  Fragments, discarded or left behind...
  Draw several smaller lines, in random places.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Nothing happens.]

Crystal:
  Draw a del on the screen.

TwinBuilder:
  i'm wondering if i should type the next star in the chain

Hand of Maybe:
  [Nothing happens.]

TwinBuilder:
  draw a ring?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Nothing happens. A 'clear screen' button becomes apparent on the side of the panel, as well.]

Crystal:
  Oh.

Bomber57:
  Draaaw the heirloom, from your memory? Oh, after pressing the clear screen button of course.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You clear the screen, and attempt to draw the Heirloom. However, by the time you've drawn a single triangle, the words on the screen have changed, and the second light of the second triad has lit up.]
  [The imprint of a hand appears on the screen, as well.]

TwinBuilder:
  what are the new words?

Hand of Maybe:
  ["*Manus.*"]

TwinBuilder:
  fair enough
  put your hand on the imprint

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. The touchscreen flashes green, and the third light on the second triad lights up. Now, only the third triad remains.]

TwinBuilder:
  have the words changed?

Hand of Maybe:
  [The entire screen is unresponsive now.]

TwinBuilder:
  ah.
  try inputting arcturus
  on the behenian fixed stars keyboard.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. The second segment next to the one you changed to Polaris begins to flash red as well.]

TwinBuilder:
  do I dare input all fifteen
  eh screw it
  input the behenian stars in this order:
  sirius, algol, vega, aldebaran, pleiades, antares, scheddi, procyon, regulus, algorab, alphecca, spica, capella

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. One-by-one, the segments of the ring in the chamber beyond the blast window begin to flash red. Once you've entered the last one, the first light on the first triad flicks off.]

TwinBuilder:
  OH NO.
  stop
  undo
  delete

Hand of Maybe:
  [You press the undo button fifteen times, and the symbols on the ring go back to what appears to be the numbers one through fifteen in Thai numerals, glowing yellow and blue and red and orchid and orange and green and maroon and black, and then the first seven colors all over again. The first light on the first triad switches back on.]

TwinBuilder:
  ok, phew
  the second triad is still lit up, right?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Yes.]
  [As is the first triad entirely, now.]

TwinBuilder:
  examine the open book on the desk.
  then examine the blinking matrix of odd lights

Hand of Maybe:
  [It appears to be open to a page whose lines of text are, for the most part, obscured, save for one excerpt. Looking around the book, all of the other pages are blank.]
  [And, you examine the matrix. It is an assortment of five rows and five columns of squares of light flashing colors in a pattern you do not understand.]

TwinBuilder:
  look at this excerpt

Hand of Maybe:
  [“—idden upon another world, or even multiple worlds.

Of course, I did not have the means to travel to other worlds at the time, rendering any attempt to reveal the secret of the coordinates a mystery. However, it bears mentioning that these coordinates seem to line up with the ∆-γ ring map. The implications of such an occurrence are unfathomable. Scholars have been searching for an answer to such a thing f—“]

TwinBuilder:
  ...oh shit

Crystal:
  Examine the number-keyboard.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You examine the final device. Its screen appears to have a circle displaying various lines and calculations you cannot wholly understand. The first three calculations do not appear to have been done, nor do they have any base material with which to work with. The fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh calculations, however, are 009, 059, 039, and 131, respectively. The keyboard displays number keys for one through nine, as well as zero.]

TwinBuilder:
  input 5082

Hand of Maybe:
  [The first light of the third triad lights up.]

TwinBuilder:
  input 049?

Hand of Maybe:
  [The screen goes red, and the three digits delete themselves soon after.]

TwinBuilder:
  damn ok

Crystal:
  Input 936.

Hand of Maybe:
  [The second light burns into existence.]

Crystal:
  Input 797.

TwinBuilder:
  damnit how did you find that
  i was searching all over

Bomber57:
  5082 was the only one I knew, hah.

Crystal:
  Omniscience, and good archive-searching skills.

Hand of Maybe:
  [The third and final light blinks into existence. Immediately, the lights on the ring of the triangle outside the blast door/window begin to glow green, flashing and spinning brightly. However, nothing happens by itself.]

TwinBuilder:
  `Press the (red) button to begin.`

Hand of Maybe:
  [You press the red button. Immediately, a cosmic light begins to pour forth from the center of the empty space in the midst of the hole in the device, growing exponentially and immediately. Large blocks of text and numerals appear on the rectangular screen above your head, and the blast door locks itself momentarily. A speaker in the ceiling begins to call off what you think to be numbers.]
  **"AT."**
  **"VI."**
  **"IST."**
  **"BLU."**
  **"TA."**
  **"CAER."**

TwinBuilder:
  i know that 'ist' is three.

Hand of Maybe:
  [With a sonic burst, waves of cosmic light pour forth from what appears to be some sort of humming and throbbing *portal* within the device.]

TwinBuilder:
  *Nice.*
  Or maybe not nice. We'll see.

Hand of Maybe:
  [The portal blinks out of existence for a second, and when it appears again, it is solid black. Like a formless void.]

Emerald:
  (Find out next time on Dragon Ball Z!)

TwinBuilder:
  Are we capable of stepping through?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Yes.]

TwinBuilder:
  Do so.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do. Everything goes black.]
  [...]
  [...]
  [_**NINE.**_]
  [...]
  [...]
  [The world reforms around you. You appear to be in some sort of ancient tomb, bricks composed of a material you do not know the origin of in the slightest.]

TwinBuilder:
  anything of interest in the tomb?

Hand of Maybe:
  [You appear to be in some sort of eternal hall. It leads forward directly to an intersection wherein you can travel left, right, and straight.]

TwinBuilder:
  go straight

Hand of Maybe:
  [You go straight, to the intersection, and then straight again. You reach the end of the hall to find that there was *once* a spiral staircase down here, but it has now been replaced with crumbling stone, cobwebs, and a *long*, long drop.]

TwinBuilder:
  hm
  go back to your starting point. can you go anywhere else besides straight to the intersection?

Hand of Maybe:
  [No. Backwards appears to lead to a dead end. Odd, that there's no entrance whatsoever.]

TwinBuilder:
  hm. then go.
  drop a piec of crumbling stone, and judging from when you hear it hit the bottom, determine how far down the drop is. (and if you could survive it.)

Hand of Maybe:
  [You wait a solid five minutes before you can hear an echo of an echo of an echo of stone shattering.]

Crystal:
  Go back to the intersection, then another direction.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Which direction?]

Crystal:
  Left, shall we say.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You attempt to head left. However, you are met with a wave of violet energy throwing you back a few feet, and the image of a capital delta.]

TwinBuilder:
  try right, then?

Hand of Maybe:
  [You turn right, and head forth without opposition. There's a fully-functional spiral staircase downwards at the end of the hall. You can see magma flowing down the outside of the tomb through slits in the walls, as well.]
  ((Fuck. Got to go for a sec. Be back in a little bit. You all should stick around.))

TwinBuilder:
  ok.
  head down the spiral staircase, of course.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so.]
  [There's a windowless door at the very bottom of the thing.]
  [Of note that it is composed of some incomprehensible pure-white material.]
  @Stuff of Nightmares

Emerald:
  >open door

Crystal:
  Indeed, attempt to open the door.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You push the thing open, and step into a low-ceilinged chamber with a roof like an isosceles trapezoid. The decoratively-carved floors lead to the central line of procession forth to the end of the chamber, lined very specifically with stone sarcophagi upon the ground on either side of you, set one meter apart from each other. Set in the far wall of the room is a massive stone ring cutting into the floor. The visible parts of this ring are separated into six parts, each bearing a glowing green symbol. ∂, μ, Σ, √, ∞, and /. The space of the wall within this ring appears to be one massive closed door of unknown material with a square-shaped impression in its center.]

Emerald:
  >gee, those symbols aren't familiar at all
  >touch the first symbol (weird a thing)

Hand of Maybe:
  [Nothing happens.]

Bomber57:
  Well no doubt about it that this is the one we saw in our weird layers of dream visions within dream visions, I belive in the first "session" if you will, hah.
  Or at least like the one we saw.
  Touch the infinity symbol, perhaps?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Nothing happens when you touch the lemniscate.]

Crystal:
  Touch the del.

Bomber57:
  Drat, well hm. Try the Sigma? This is somee brute force trial and error but hear me out, because I only assume that Sigma is the next one we will acquire.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do that again. Nothing happens. And nothing happens with ∑, either.]

Bomber57:
  No way of knowing until we try them all. Touch the square root, which is only tangentially related to the square impression on the massive door.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Nothing happens.]

Crystal:
  Solidus, then.

Bomber57:
  Well that was a long time for you to say that nothing happened >:V

Hand of Maybe:
  [Nothing.]

TwinBuilder:
  examine the sarchopagi?
  maybe try opening one.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Each stone sarcophagus appears to be a unique variation of about a dozen screaming faces stitched together to form a vaguely humanoid shape.]
  [Are you *sure* you want to open one.]

Bomber57:
  Eeeeeeeehhhnnn. Anything nice and square-shaped in this room that could fit in a door, perhaps?

Hand of Maybe:
  [No.]

Bomber57:
  Welp, they wouldn't exist if they weren't meant to be interacted with. Go forth and do something we'll probably regret, then. Open it.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You open the nearest sarcophagus.]
  [An unholy screech radiates throughout the tomb-chamber as lime vapors pour forth from the opened sarcophagus, forming into the vague shape of a hand clawing at the ceiling before dissipating utterly.]

Bomber57:
  O-oh... anything neat inside?

Hand of Maybe:
  [A sword with the blade broken off whose broken shards of a former point are spattered with still-wet lime green blood.]

TwinBuilder:
  take it?
  try opening another sarcophagus.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Your inventory is full.]

Bomber57:
  Hold it in your hands.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Sure.]
  [You open another sarcophagus.]
  [As you lift the lid off of the thing, lime green fluids begin to spill out of the crack of the lifted sarcophagus, splattering upon the floor consistently for a full minute before ceasing. You lift the lid off of the thing to find a still-beating green heart in a jar.]

Bomber57:
  Alright, heart-in-jar. I'm sure it'll be fine if we just leave it there for now. Try a third sarcophagus. I imagine there are uh what, six?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Nine.]

Bomber57:
  Nine, then.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You open another. As you lift the lid up, you are blown off of your feet as what appears to be a contained explosion of sort arcane means causes the sarcophagus to erupt into shards of stone. One narrowly misses your head. Nothing of value is left behind.]

Bomber57:
  Well, we are left behind, are we not? :>
Open a fourth. Might as well keep going with this course of action.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You remove the lid on the fourth. Inside appears to be an oozing mass of wet living flesh. Three pairs of eyes blink up at you.]

TwinBuilder:
  ...put the lid back on.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. You think you hear a sigh of relief from below the solid stone.]

Bomber57:
  Fifth time's the charm, as they say nowhere. Open the fifth.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You move to open the fifth sarcophagus, but stop when you place your hands on the thing. The sound of claws and talons scrabbling at stone emanates out from within the container.]

Bomber57:
  Yyyeeeah lets just keep going then. Open the sixth.

Hand of Maybe:
  [The sixth holds a featureless cube made of a smooth, colorless stone.]

TwinBuilder:
  nice.
  take it.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Sixth sarcophagus, six faces, a door of six segments. Six six six. Does this mean that the demons of torturous Hell smile down upon your acts? *I couldn't stop laughing.*]
  [You take the cube.]

TwinBuilder:
  Put it in the square-shaped impression.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. Immediately, the door begins emitting clicks and grinding noises as it is slowly bisected and pulled into either the ceiling or the floor, layer after layer. There are three layers of doors to this thing.]

TwinBuilder:
  does that mean we need more cubes to open them?

Bomber57:
  I know I'm smiling, if that counts.

Hand of Maybe:
  [They're all open.]

TwinBuilder:
  then walk through.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. Beyond is a chamber entirely composed of purplish-black bricks. There is about a two-meter lower section on the outer ends of the room, so to speak, with the lowest ceilings possible, and pillars lining the very inner edges. Beyond, however, there is a *massive* gaping space with a central slab in the exact center of the room. You blink several times, and notice there are *thousands* of sheaves of paper nailed to the walls, covered in lines upon lines of scrawling lime text, the t-s and the y-s swapped out for Γ-s and γ-s in every instance, respectively.]

TwinBuilder:
  examine the lines of text

Hand of Maybe:
  [You take a look at a couple.]
**where are Γhe voices coming from
Γheγ've sΓopped whγ is Γhis room so small
help me help me help me
Γhis is mγ eΓernal punishmenΓ. oh god**
  [There are potentially hundreds of pieces of paper on the walls and in the pillars, each more and more hopeless and desperate than the last.]

TwinBuilder:
  EXAMINE THE CENTRAL SLAB
  wh
  caps
  sorry

Hand of Maybe:
  [It's featureless, made of the same material as the bricks. If you look hard enough at it, it appears to be some sort of... container?]

TwinBuilder:
  can we open it?

Hand of Maybe:
  [You can certainly try. But it looks heavy.]

TwinBuilder:
  do so.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You lower your hands to the edges of the thing's lid. Just as you are about to try pulling it up, you hear something. The sound of a quill scrabbling on paper, *very* close by.]

TwinBuilder:
  look over and see if you can spot the culprit.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You look around a pillar to see a chained figure almost *entirely* lime green in color, before they shove the offending piece of paper directly under your nose. It reads as such, in lime green ink. Or, you *think* it's ink. There's a precise slice of moderate deepness on the figure's arm dripping blood of the *exact* same shade as this ink.]
**don'Γ Γrγ Γo open ΓhaΓ.**

TwinBuilder:
  ...Why?

Hand of Maybe:
  [They pull the paper back, writing up a response, before showing it to you.]
**iΓ's filled wiΓh Γhe exΓenΓ of mγ agonγ, frozen in space and Γime. or, iΓ mighΓ jusΓ be where Γhe voices live. i've noΓ checked iΓ for a while.**

TwinBuilder:
  examine the lower section on the room's outer end?

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. It has a desk, a chair, and a panel in the wall upon which the being's chains are attached.]
  [That's it.]

TwinBuilder:
  Who are you?
  (Even though I'm pretty sure I already know.)

Hand of Maybe:
  **even Γhough i've never seen γou before, i feel like γour meΓhod of speech sounds familiar.
γ.**

TwinBuilder:
  Gamma.
  I remember.
  Do you happen to have a fragment of a ring currently with you? You know, like, some kind of symbol.

Hand of Maybe:
  [They gesture to themselves quizzically, blood still dripping from their arm-wound.]
**me? no.**
  [It is of note that they have not actually physically *spoken* at all, but only written on that single piece of paper, and showed it to you.]

TwinBuilder:
  ...Can you talk?

Hand of Maybe:
  [They chuckle a weak, breathy chuckle, vocals twisted by *incredible* disuse.]
**i haven'Γ exacΓlγ Γried for a long, long Γime, Γeal woman.**

TwinBuilder:
  Wh-why?

Hand of Maybe:
  [They gesture at the room around the two of you.]
**look around γou. i don'Γ even know how long i've been in Γhis hellhole. noΓ much reason Γo Γrγ.**

TwinBuilder:
  Fair enough.
  Do you know anyone that knows how to escape?
  ...That's a dumb question, isn't it. If you did, you probably wouldn't be here, would you.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Gamma takes a few steps forward, and places a *scarily* emaciated hand upon your shoulder, weakly turning you to look at the door from whence you came. Then, they hand you the paper. There's one new word upon it.]
**γou.**

TwinBuilder:
  ...So we can just go back through the door, then?

Hand of Maybe:
  [They stare at you for a few seconds, and then blink, gesturing to the shackle upon their right ankle.]

TwinBuilder:
  (I'm dumb.)
  Cut it with the thaumium knife.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You easily cut the metal apart with the knife, and carefully pull the thing off of them. They seem *rather* fragile at the moment. They grab your wrist gently, handing you the paper for a moment. There's something you *think* might be a smiley face of some sort next to the single word.]
**Γhanks.**

TwinBuilder:
  You're welcome.
  head back the way we came, then?

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do that. Supporting Gamma, you climb up the spiral staircase again.]

TwinBuilder:
  head back to the intersection.
  try going left again?

Hand of Maybe:
  [The two of you try to go left. You get the feeling Gamma only goes along with it because they know it's the only way to get out of this place. The air throbs with violet energy which prickles against your skin as you pass through. There's another spiral staircase down.]

TwinBuilder:
  go down.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. There's another door, which you enter. Beyond is a small tunnel, walls lined with a set of four slots in the wall on either side, each with a pressure-activated socket. Iron bars line the far wall, and behind is some other chamber. Each socket is labeled with a Greek letter. Alpha, lambda, upsilon, sigma, pi, xi, and a delta, all lowercase. There's a lever on the wall beside the iron bars labeled with an uppercase delta.]

TwinBuilder:
  isn't this about the stars of scorpius?

Hand of Maybe:
  [**SCO.**]

TwinBuilder:
  right.
  well, try alpha first.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You activate the pressure socket. It glows violet as you touch it.]
((Fuuuuck. I have to leave for like thirty minutes now. This session'll wrap up when I get back. We're almost done.))

TwinBuilder:
  okay.

Bomber57:
  boop

Hand of Maybe:
  @Stuff of Nightmares
  [What do you do?]

TwinBuilder:
  we activated alpha, right?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Correct.]

TwinBuilder:
  lambda next.

Hand of Maybe:
  [It glows violet as well upon your touch. Gamma frowns at the color, but says nothing.]

TwinBuilder:
  is violet correct or incorrect
  now i'm having doubts
  <:Thonk:325807864549736449>
  whatever, try delta next.

Hand of Maybe:
  [It turns violet as well.]

TwinBuilder:
  upsilon.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Violet.]

TwinBuilder:
  pi.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Violet.]

TwinBuilder:
  sigma.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Violet.]

TwinBuilder:
  which just leaves xi.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Violet.]

TwinBuilder:
  activate the lever.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You pull the lever, and the hiss of pistons and hydralics brings the iron bars grinding up into the ceiling. The path forward is clear.]

TwinBuilder:
  *nice.*
  for posterity, the solution was stars of scorpio, arranged by brightness.

Bomber57:
  niice

TwinBuilder:
  move forward.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You step forward. Gamma stops you for a second, writing something out.]
**jusΓ Γo forewarn γou, if γou wanΓ γour fragmenΓ of Γhe ring, i'll have Γo sΓaγ alive for Γhis. so please don'Γ leΓ me die.**

TwinBuilder:
  Got it.

Emerald:
  >smile reassuringly, or at least attempt to

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do that. Gamma weakly nods.]

TwinBuilder:
  now keep going.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. You enter a *massive* throne room of some sort. Lit electric floor-lights are embedded in the stone floor. There are two layers of stairs up to a throne before a wall dripping with a magma fountain. There are massive vaults across the ceiling of dark wood, inverted downward along the floor up to the first stair as well.]

TwinBuilder:
  any objects of interest?

Emerald:
  Idea
  >pull out Voidmetal Plate Armor

Hand of Maybe:
  [The place is remarkably pristine. No *objects* scattered about. But there is the throne, of course. And the figure upon it, watching you. Gamma stops you, paler than usual, handing you the piece of paper.]
**his mind isn'Γ exacΓlγ as sΓable as iΓ used Γo be.**

Emerald:
  >tell Gamma to please try on the Voidmetal Plate Armor. It'll help them not die

Hand of Maybe:
  [The armor didn't fit you, and Gamma looks like they haven't eaten in months. Probably too weak to even bear the weight of the stuff. But you think they appreciate the motion.]

Emerald:
  Dang

Hand of Maybe:
  [After taking one look at the figure on the throne, of course, Gamma waves you off, turns around, and promptly vomits on the floor, retching pitifully.]

Emerald:
  (Alright I'll be leaving now)

TwinBuilder:
  who's on the throne?

Hand of Maybe:
  [They look like a *considerably* healthier version of Gamma, tinted violet instead of lime. Their eyes, however, are crazed. He laughs as soon as he sees you, standing up without impediment--he has no shackles at all. You notice that he's wearing some sort of suit of chainmail armor made entirely out of forcibly-broken wood splinters and chips tied together. He looks like a psychopath, quite frankly.]
**Delta: Discovery, power, and form are three. When two are gone, what shall be?**

TwinBuilder:
  Look at Gamma. Do they know the answer?

Hand of Maybe:
  [They're retching on the floor behind you, as was aforementioned.]

TwinBuilder:
  ~~The answer is vomit.~~
  I feel like they're talking about the Heirloom, but I'm not sure...
  ((shit I have to go. could someone keep doing this while I'm away?))

Hand of Maybe:
  ((I can wait, if you want. I *really* want you to see this live.))

TwinBuilder:
  ((alright, thanks. be back in like half an hour))

Hand of Maybe:
  ((Alright.))

TwinBuilder:
  31 minutes later...

Bomber57:
  You're one minute late Twin. <:Thangery:325807813563777025>

Crystal:
  WB, Twin.

TwinBuilder:
  Should we just shrug? Because I don't really have an idea.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Do what thou wilt.]

TwinBuilder:
  Give the holiest of shrugs.

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: That's *exactly* what I thought you'd say, you *robot*.**

TwinBuilder:
  ...Robot?

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: Do you deny it? I can smell it on you. I’m certain you’re really a robot controlled by like sixty people in a control room, agreeing on and sending orders, you SNERSON PUPPET. YOU DON’T HAVE ANY *ACTUAL* PERSONALITY, DO YOU—YOU *CREEPCLOWN SCUM*.**

TwinBuilder:
  ((...I can't decide if being called a snerson is an insult or a compliment, given the fact that I'm a meatsack.))

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: *Oh*, so you're even confused as to what's good and what's a bloodsucking fiend in this world, then, eh?**

TwinBuilder:
  ((Fuck.))

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: *Snerson* robot.**
  **Delta: One hundred percent.**

TwinBuilder:
  And for the record, sixty people aren't controlling me. Basically three people are.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Gamma looks at the both of you confusedly.]
**Delta: I don't see the difference, CINAVI KANERA. If that *is* your real name.**

Bomber57:
  ((((((((Quick shield our text with more parentheses!))))))))

TwinBuilder:
  It is.

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: *Is* it.**
  [Delta waves a hand.]
**Delta: Ah, forget it. Just know this.**
  **Delta: I can *see* it in you, you *evil* creatures. I can see the truth with my special eyes.**
[Delta’s eyes pulse with multicolored light and wacky rainbows sporadically, like a mildly-controlled explosion of chaos.]
**Delta: You want to BEAT MY BRAINS IN with a waffle iron, don’t you, you sick *fuck*. You need serious help.**

TwinBuilder:
  Uh. No?
  I won't argue with the fact that I probably need serious help.
  But I don't want to *kill* you.

Crystal:
  We don't have a waffle iron, how can we beat your head in with one.

Bomber57:
  We don't have a waffle iron, and even if we did we would use it to make waffles instead.

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: Oh, you *say* that, but I can see that ace of space you've got on your sleeve, CINAVI KANERA. You can do *whatever* you want. In fact, it mig--wait. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Forget *having* one. Maybe you *are* a waffle iron.**

TwinBuilder:
  ...Yeah, no.
  *You're* a waffle iron.

Crystal:
  And we still don't want to kill you.

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: Oh, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck--oh, wait. I planned for this, didn't I?**
[Delta sticks his finger into the lava fountain, and pulls it out again.]
**Delta: Whew. I'm safe from your murder attempts and magic. You say you don't want to kill me, but that's *exactly* what a murderer would say.**

TwinBuilder:
  What did you just do?

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: Why would I tell you? You'd just use it against me.**
  **Delta: Evil. Evil evil evil.**

TwinBuilder:
  Alright, I can tell that we're pretty much going to fight sooner rather than later, but can I at least ask you who you are and why you're here first?

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: I would say there's no point, but I can feel an exposition coming? Yeah. Here we go.
Delta: I'm half of some dude who you don't have to care about who was a powerful godmodder person, or whatever. You guys care about that, I think. But then I broke in half. Because my other half--**
[He gestures to Gamma.]
**Delta: --has just got something sinister going on. I mean, *look* at them. I'm absolutely convinced they're a meat hive for the flies of death. Or Baal Zebub. Or whatever it is. Point is, I defended myself and my property, shotguns are cool, I, Marco Rubio, support private prisons, dimensional prisons, the sky falling, some guy name Eudhroh--or maybe it was Eudrough--chained other me up, and we've been stuck here ever since. See, we *would* just be ordinary fragments of a greater whole, but we've got some weird powers. They call 'em the γ Ring and the Scorpius/Scorpio/Scorpion/Assbeaver Key.**
  **Delta: And then--and *then*, *THEY* came around.**
  **Delta: They're pretty much the same. Or, they have the same name. AT, AT, and AT. All three of them. They wanted things from us. All our powers. To *fuse* us back together into a god of gods for their personal devouring. To poke us to death with *knitting needles* and *poisoned kitten fur*.**
  [He laughs an *entirely* insane laugh.]
**Delta: But THAT won't happen! No, siree. Because now *you're* here to kill me, aren't you.**
  **Delta: That's what γ thinks, isn't it? In order to escape, you have to use me as a gate. Get your ∑ from our collective corpses.**

TwinBuilder:
  ...Your collective corpses? But I thought...

Hand of Maybe:
  [He doubles over with laughter.]
  **Delta: You THOUGHT! THAT was your mistake, robot meat hive. What's ∑?**
  **Delta: *Summation*.**

TwinBuilder:
  > Look over at Gamma.

Hand of Maybe:
  [They immediately hand you the paper, turned over to the back side now.]
**we're noΓ even real. i Γhink. Γhis is jusΓ a dream, isn'Γ iΓ? γou're Γhe onlγ real person here, righΓ? so whγ *shouldn'Γ* we give up our lives so ΓhaΓ γou can go on. γou weren'Γ ΓwisΓed or evil when γou saved me, and γou planned Γo break me ouΓ of Γhis place Γhe enΓire Γime when Γhe graγ wizard Γold γou Γo bring me Γo him, didn'Γ γou?**
  **aΓ leasΓ, ΓhaΓ's whaΓ Γhe EMISSARY said Γo me abouΓ γou. he said he could see iΓ in γour eγes.**

TwinBuilder:
  > ...Nod.
  So I guess they both have to die?

Bomber57:
  well clearly only one is willing :v

TwinBuilder:
  But Gamma just said earlier that they'd have to be alive for us to get the sigma.
  So now I'm confuzzled. <:Thonk:325807864549736449>

Hand of Maybe:
  [Delta gives you the middle finger.]
**Delta: If you want to kill me, you'll have to come over here and do it YOURSELF, snerson puppet.**
  [Oh, and Gamma gives you the paper again.]

TwinBuilder:
  Read it?

Hand of Maybe:
  **when γou beaΓ him, i have Γo fuse wiΓh his dγing energies for iΓ Γo work. i Γhink. Γhen i'll die, UΓOIγMS will be reborn, and γou can jusΓ leave us useless dreams and visions behind.**

TwinBuilder:
  UTOIYMS...
  "Okay. And... don't say you're useless, okay? You aren't."
  I guess we have no choice.
  Walk over there and prepare to do it OURSELVES, like the snerson puppeeters we are.

Hand of Maybe:
  **noΓ useless? i'm noΓ even real.**

TwinBuilder:
  Lots of things aren't 'real.' That doesn't mean they don't have a use.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Gamma doesn't write anything after that. Delta raises a second middle finger, and begins to wave them at you exuberantly. His wooden chain mail rattles about as he does so.]
**Delta: Come *get* me, baby-murderer. I've prepared all of my life for this. Or, part of all of my life for this. I'm going to stomp you into a pancake, put you on the fire, and then sell you to the lumberjack friends I don't have for twenty cents.**

Bomber57:
  Pancakes suck. That's why we brought a waffle iron. The one we lied about not having.

TwinBuilder:
  > Take out a waffle iron.

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: You *bitch*.**
  [What waffle iron?]

Bomber57:
  The one right there in our hand. Even Delta agreed that we were going to bash him in with a waffle iron, and it'd only make sense for him to make such claims if they were true.
  Come on Delta, you know I know you know we are right.

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: God *dammit*, you're right. Fuck. I should stop fucking myself over. Eh, no matter. For you see, fool, I have the *superior* weapon.**
  [Delta pulls out a rubber chicken.]

TwinBuilder:
  KEK

Bomber57:
  lmao

Crystal:
  PF

Hand of Maybe:
  [Delta goes into a fake karate pose with said chicken.]
**Delta: Come get some, robot meatsa--wait fuck. Non-metasa--no. Non-*meatsack* robot.**

TwinBuilder:
  STRIFE???
  > Examine Delta, first off.

Hand of Maybe:
  Δ: [???] HP: 44,444/44,444. Gravitas: II.

TwinBuilder:
  So, they just said that they're immune to the Logogram, right? I... can't tell if that was a joke or not, but just so we're sure, use the Logogram to reveal that the rubber chicken is actually a live chicken and is on our side. They leap out of Delta's hands and poke his fucking eyes out, then they run away, taking the eyes as spoils.

Hand of Maybe:
  [That plan immediately happens without a hitch.]
  **Delta: Fuckin'. NO, DAMMIT. I NEED THOSE. GET BACK HERE, YOU DEMENTED LITTLE SHIT. *JOIN ME*.**

TwinBuilder:
  ...Nice.

Hand of Maybe:
  [The two come back with Delta on the chicken's back, his eyes in a plastic baggie, and a lust for revenge.]
  [3,000 damage.]

TwinBuilder:
  damnit.
  examine us both.

Hand of Maybe:
  Cinavi Kanera: [P] HP: 60,000/60,000.

γ: [???] HP: 33,333/33,333. Pretty Much Useless In A Fight™. Concurrence: **I**I.
Δ: [???] HP: 41,444/44,444. Gravitas: **I**I.

theedgeofstevensknife:
  ™

Hand of Maybe:
  [™.]

TwinBuilder:
  Use the Logogram to turn the ™ into a gigantic ***TM***. It was always that size, it just looked small because it was far away. It rams into Delta at incredibly high speeds.

Hand of Maybe:
  [This occurs immediately. Delta takes the advantage of the energy release to *also* point out that his trusty Battle-Chicken was also just small because it was far away. The Battle-Chicken Behemoth immediately eats the _**TM**_, before screeching and flapping its wings with a wild and terrifying fury.]
  [The chicken then promptly breathes death-fire upon you. 7,000 damage.]

Crystal:
  Damn, that cuts out my planned thing about the Battle-Chicken being too small for Delta to ride. Oh well.

TwinBuilder:
  Observe.

Hand of Maybe:
  Cinavi Kanera: [P] HP: 53,000/60,000. On Fire **I**I.

γ: [???] HP: 33,333/33,333. Pretty Much Useless In A Fight™. Concurrence: **II**.
Δ: [???] HP: 41,444/44,444. Gravitas: **II**. Riding Battle-Chicken Behemoth (HP: ∞/∞, Death Laser III).

Bomber57:
  Flip a switch, turning "On Fire" to "Off Fire".

theedgeofstevensknife:
  divide infinity by infinity

Crystal:
  Point out that infinity divided by infinity is an indeterminate form. Apply L'Hopital's Rule to the infinity divided by infinity, then realize that reality doesn't let that happen. Thus, the Battle-Chicken Behemoth is impossible, and it explodes. Coincidentally, the explosion hits Delta.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You flip a switch, turning the fire off. You still take the 2,000 fire damage you were supposed to take at the end of the turn, though. Oh, and the chicken's health-division turns its health into 1. Not *1/1*, just 1.]

Crystal:
  Dangit, too late.

theedgeofstevensknife:
  gently kick the chicken out from under delta

Hand of Maybe:
  [The chicken bites your foot off. 15,000 damage.]

theedgeofstevensknife:
  stab it for resisting

Hand of Maybe:
  [You stab it. This *would* normally deplete at least a single HP from its bar, but it doesn't actually *have* an HP score. Just a number one where it should be.]

Crystal:
  Damn.

Bomber57:
  Remind that chicken that he is not number one, as that ranking goes to the one and only Robbie Rotten.

TwinBuilder:
  Use the Logogram to point out that We Are Number One. Since 'We' represents Robbie Rotten, the Behemoth's health is tied to Robbie Rotten. Since Robbie Rotten's actor IRL has cancer, the Behemoth dies of cancer.

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: Your memes have no power here, old man! Er, woman. Young woman, actually.**
  [Delta points out that Robbie Rotten actually beat cancer, apparently, and your attack fails.]

theedgeofstevensknife:
  since memes have no power neither does the chicken, since we are number 1 is a dead meme

Hand of Maybe:
  [The Chicken dies. Delta cuts it open and lives in it like a tauntaun.]

theedgeofstevensknife:
  the horrible smell overwhelms them

TwinBuilder:
  The Chicken's stomach acids burn the shit out of Delta's armor, and also his skin.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Delta pops his head out of the chicken corpse for a moment, and laughs at you for five minutes straight, but also just a little while.]
**Delta: This armor is made out of the exploded shards of the *Hazel Wand* in the Inky Abyss post-creation. Nice try, though.**

TwinBuilder:
  Alright, then they just burn whatever parts of him weren't protected by the armor.

Hand of Maybe:
  [And, Delta just sort of drinks the stomach acid like a champ before it touches his skin. He has a stomach of bedrovoidinititanium.]
  [Or so he says. It burns through his stomach. But he can't really tell that much. 5,000 damage.]
  [Delta promptly uses Gravitas in annoyance.]
  [53/100.]

TwinBuilder:
  Que.

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: You know, maybe making my special attack a one in a hundred chance for an instant kill was a bad idea.**

Crystal:
  KEK.
  I guess you're suffering from a distinct lack of gravitas, then.

Bomber57:
  HAH. PUN DAMAGE.

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: FUCL--I MEAN FUCK.**

Crystal:
  Very little gravitas indeed.

TwinBuilder:
  this is amazing

Hand of Maybe:
  [4,000 damage.]

Crystal:
  Experiencing A Significant Gravitas Shortfall. Stood Far Back When The Gravitas Was Handed Out. Gravitas Free Zone. Et cetera.
  Tolja the Culture jokes would come out.

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: Oh, wait, no. I've got it. I'll just use the *other* part of my chumhandle. That's it. That's part of, like, the final boss, as well. There we go. Take *that*, motherfuckers. Powergaming.**
  [Delta changes his special attack to Change.]

TwinBuilder:
  I change it back to Gravitas.
  Something called 'Change' can probably be super-easily changed, right?

Hand of Maybe:
  [You reverse it back to Gravitas. Delta curses until he sees you reversed it to a point where it was still fully-charged, and then uses it again.]
  [23/100.]
  **Delta: *Dammit*. Thought I had you there. Would've been the best kill in history.**

PitTheAngel:
  That really **change**d the scenario.
You sure know how to **change** the drama in a scene.
What a **change** of pace.
How- oh, the new joke mine's dead

Crystal:
  It would've been, to be honest.
  Regardless, lemme retype the thing I *was* typing before Discord went all fucky on me.

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: SEE, CINAVI KANERA? Take that. Even your snerson overlords agree with me. That means that they agree I should beat you, and can't oppose me when I punch you in the face.**
  [Delta punches you in the face. It deals 1,000 damage.]
  [Wow.]

Bomber57:
  I flip the Wow upside-down. It now spells Mom. Mom's foot crushes Delta.

Crystal:
  A miniature ship named the *Zero Gravitas* flies straight through the room, and incidentally through Delta. It now has slightly more gravitas, since Delta's bodily fluids are spattered all over it, and he's got some tenuous connection to the stuff.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Delta convinces the ship to have a brain and be on his side. It promptly saves his life and takes the blow from Mom.]

Crystal:
  F.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Delta immediately severs one of the toes of Mom's foot, to use as a club.]

Crystal:
  The ship is destroyed by Mom, sadly.
  Rest in peace.
  Lemme see...

TwinBuilder:
  Mom's Foot is actually in a high heel, so he must have had to take the high heel off to sever the toe.

Bomber57:
  Steal the toenail from the toe Delta stole and equip it as a trinket. Mom's foot will attack Delta every two turns now.

TwinBuilder:
  Use the high heel's incredibly sharp point to skewer Delta.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Delta circumvents the entire situation by going back in time and killing Mom before she could stomp on Delta. He takes 4,000 paradox damage when he comes back, though.]

Crystal:
  Mom's bloated carcass then falls on Delta. Because ya killed her ya maniac.

TwinBuilder:
  You fool!! The last time someone prevented such an important death, back in DTG1, it summoned an entire *paradox MONSTER!* The Dimensional Monster bursts forth through the wall like the Kool-Aid Fucker and eats Delta some more, feeling he hasn't learned his lesson paradox-wise.

Hand of Maybe:
  [He picks the bloated carcass up, and uses the entire thing as a hammer, immediately nailing you into the wall and killing the Dimensional Monster.]
  [You take 5,000 damage.]

Bomber57:
  A bad thing happens, a very bad thing. When we were nailed we punctured a water pipe. Delta gets blased in the face with high-pressure water.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Delta dodges in such a fashion that he swallows all of this high-pressure water. He still has a hole in his stomach from all the acid, so it fires out of that like a water jetpack, and launches Delta into the air. He realizes he can fly.]
  **Delta: I AM ZEUS, GOD OF THE SKIES, MOTHERFUCKER. Or something like that.**

TwinBuilder:
  Zeus is angered at this blasphemy and smites Delta with a lightning bolt.
  This is even worse because of all the water currently in Delta's body.
  Also, dodge all the water so we're not shocked along with Delta.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Delta uses lightningbending, and redirects the lightning at you. You both take 8,000 damage, as the water connects you to him.]
  [Delta then again uses Gravitas.]

TwinBuilder:
  Use the Logogram to bloodbend Delta. His arm plunges into his stomach, expanding and tearing the hole so that it's wider and he can die of blood loss faster.

Hand of Maybe:
  [91/100.]
  [Delta curses to himself, immediately drains all of his blood into the plastic baggie that still has his eyes in them, and drops it on your head. 3,000 damage.]

TwinBuilder:
  ...He dies of blood loss.

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: Just because I got killed doesn't mean I have to be dead, kid! I'm *fine*.**

TwinBuilder:
  Try telling your brain that.

PitTheAngel:
  People die when they are killed.

TwinBuilder:
  You have about eight seconds before you fall over due to lack of oxygen.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Delta tears his brain out, and drops it on you as well. You take another 3,000 damage.]
  [He's... actually entirely fine.]

TwinBuilder:
  Observe.

Hand of Maybe:
  Cinavi Kanera: [P] HP: 16,000/60,000.

γ: [???] HP: 33,333/33,333. Pretty Much Useless In A Fight™. Concurrence: **II**.
Δ: [???] HP: 20,444/44,444. Gravitas: II.

TwinBuilder:
  Jesus Christ. We're... we're getting fucked.
  Examine inventory.

Hand of Maybe:
  __Inventory.__
| [Thaumium Knife] | [Quill] | [Four Empty Books w/ TLoL Page & Bill Page] |
| [2 Bottles of Ink] | [Blank Papers] | [Hazel Box, Magetear Smoking Kit] |
| [Voidmetal Plate Armor] | [Bloodstained Crimson Robes] | [Vial of Water] |
Wearing: Mage’s Cloak, Conjurer’s Artifice, Gamma Blade.
Fragments of the Ring: ∂, μ.
Fragments of the Nightmare: 1.

Bomber57:
  Woah woah woah, hold the phone. Round Delta's health down to a nice even 20,000 this instant, mister.

Hand of Maybe:
  [No.]

Bomber57:
  Ok.

TwinBuilder:
  Use the Logogram to question how blood getting dumped on our head damaged us.

PitTheAngel:
  6:11 DMG ratio, left equalling Delta.  That is rather awkwardly bad.

Hand of Maybe:
  [It speaks back to you. It has Delta's voice.]
  _**"Oland."**_

TwinBuilder:
  Translator's note: 'oland' means 'because.'

Hand of Maybe:
  ((KEK.))

PitTheAngel:
  <Unfunny Death Note Reference>
  <That I Demand You Laugh At Anyway>

Bomber57:
  All according to keikaku. (Keikaku means plan.)

Hand of Maybe:
  [Delta lands on his feet, and looks at you.]
  **Delta: Hey, CINAVI. Do you like cheese?**

TwinBuilder:
  Why.

PitTheAngel:
  "Ooh, ooh, I know this punchline!  Is this the part where you shoot us multiple times in the body?"

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: Just asking. It's gross, isn't it.**

Bomber57:
  No, but we know someone who does. That's when the witch Charlotte appears and liberates Delta of his head.
  We gotta get aHEAD in this combat situation, do we not? I'm pulling all the stops.

TwinBuilder:
  Of course. We always have to plan aHEAD in times like these.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Delta immediately shoots you in the head for stealing his joke and his attack. You take 10,000 damage.]

TwinBuilder:
  WAIT ARE YOU SERIOUS

Hand of Maybe:
  [Yes.]

TwinBuilder:
  Jesus, Delta.
  Don't lose your HEAD over this.

PitTheAngel:
  12:27 DMG ratio now.

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: Don't worry, I won't. You just got shot in yours, though.**

Bomber57:
  **CURRENT AESTHETIC: APE GOING BACK IN TIME TO REVERSE THIS**

TwinBuilder:
  That was rubber.
  That was a rubber bullet fired from a plastic gun.

Bomber57:
  Two minutes ago, a furious ape appears and shoots Delta before Delta can shoot Cinavi.

TwinBuilder:
  Seriously, did you not tell? You pulled it from the same place you got the rubber chicken. That must be full of joke weapons.
  ((brb))

Hand of Maybe:
  [Delta goes back further in time to revive the Dimensional Monster to exact its paradox-revenge on the furious ape, creating a transtimeline interdimensional mess nobody wants to deal with. So they don't. And, Delta looks at you after your remarks.]
**Delta: I must be *really* good at shooting you, then, if that was a rubber bullet. What a shot, man. *Through* your head. A RUBBER bullet.**

Bomber57:
  The rubber bullet bounces off the far wall. We crouch to the floor to dodge it. The rubber bullet hits Delta.

Hand of Maybe:
  [He manages to vaporize it as it hits him, but he still takes 5,000 damage.]

Bomber57:
  Observe our status please.

Hand of Maybe:
  Cinavi Kanera: [P] HP: 6,000/60,000.

γ: [???] HP: 33,333/33,333. Pretty Much Useless In A Fight™. Concurrence: **II**.
Δ: [???] HP: 15,444/44,444. Gravitas: **I**I.

TwinBuilder:
  Concentrate intensely.
  Very intensely.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Why.]

TwinBuilder:
  ...The lava in this room.
  It's pink.
  ...

Hand of Maybe:
  [It isn't.]

TwinBuilder:
  Yes it is.

Hand of Maybe:
  [In fact, Delta vaporizes all of the lava, just to be safe.]

TwinBuilder:
  New, pink lava pours in.

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: Damn.**

TwinBuilder:
  All of a sudden, you hear something that sounds like an "oh, yeah," from far away.
  The one and only KOOL-AID FUCKER bursts though the wall.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Please give the Kool-Aid Fucker stats for me.]

TwinBuilder:
  They punch Delta into next week with the force of a volcano.
  KOOL-AID FUCKER: [Pro-Cinavi] HP: 20,000/20,000. Oh, No: II

Bomber57:
  You PC bro? Yeah bro.

TwinBuilder:
  They allow us to drink their refreshing, refined liquid, to restore health.
  There is a fire, yes. In our throat. But it's good, don't worry.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Kool-Aid Fucker spawned! Delta takes 1,000 damage from the initial attack.]
  [He then uses Gravitas.]
  [47/100.]
  **Delta: Fuckin' useless-ass goddamn motherfuckin'...**
[He trails off.]

TwinBuilder:
  Observe.

Hand of Maybe:
  Cinavi Kanera: [P] HP: 6,000/60,000.
KOOL-AID FUCKER: [PC] HP: 20,000/20,000. Oh, No: **I**I.

γ: [???] HP: 33,333/33,333. Pretty Much Useless In A Fight™. Concurrence: **II**.
Δ: [???] HP: 14,444/44,444. Gravitas: II.

TwinBuilder:
  Didn't the FUCKER also heal us?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Uh, sure. +3,000 HP.]

TwinBuilder:
  hm ok

Hand of Maybe:
  [Your move.]

TwinBuilder:
  ask gamma what concurrence does.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You get a confused line of text back.]
**Γhe whaΓ?**

Crystal:
  Oh. That must be the fusion-thing.
  So. Delta trails off. He steps on a snake on the trail and slips and falls straight on his back. Then the snake lands right on his face, and bites him out of pain and anger. It then gets back onto the trail and does the slither-equivalent of limping off.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Delta laughs at your choice of wording after about 3,000 damage of snake-pain, compares it to a Pesterchum log, and immediately *somehow* pulls out the staff Ophidion, turns it to machine gun mode, and fills you and the Kool-Aid Fucker full of holes. 3,000 damage to you, and 7,000 damage to the Kool-Aid Fucker. Ophidion evaporates immediately after.]

Crystal:
  Youch.

TwinBuilder:
  The volatile refined liquid shoots right at Delta, burning him immensely.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Delta puts on a rain-coat. He's fine.]

TwinBuilder:
  It burns through his raincoat.
  The raincoat also explodes in a huge pink fireball, to be sure.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Raincoat destroyed! You still don't deal any damage, though.]
  [Delta again tries Gravitas.]
  [43/100.]
  **Delta: I'm just going to... not try that again. Yeah.**

TwinBuilder:
  You mean he didn't take any damage when he was caught in the middle of a gigantic fireball?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Yes.]

theedgeofstevensknife:
  >observe

Hand of Maybe:
  Cinavi Kanera: [P] HP: 6,000/60,000.
KOOL-AID FUCKER: [PC] HP: 13,000/20,000. Oh, No: **II**.

γ: [???] HP: 33,333/33,333. Pretty Much Useless In A Fight™. Concurrence: **II**.
Δ: [???] HP: 11,444/44,444. Gravitas: II.

TwinBuilder:
  The KOOL AID FUCKER tells Delta to try smiling for once, like him! Delta probably does something like laugh hysterically, so the KOOL AID FUCKER's eyes shine with energy. Blades of pink energy carve a smile right through Delta's face.
  Cinavi also sips from the refined kool aid and gains more health.

theedgeofstevensknife:
  the KOOL AID FUCKER does not do that
  it uses Oh, No.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Delta doesn't laugh hysterically, actually! He instead evaporates all of the refined kool-aid inside the Kool-Aid Fucker temporarily, cancelling out both the attack, by merit of doing something not expected, and the healing. The refined kool-aid will reappear next turn.]

theedgeofstevensknife:
  dangit

Hand of Maybe:
  [Speaking of which, Delta shows you mercy, and instead targets the Fucker. He pushes it down a hole that was definitely here in this room the entire time, and it falls. Being made of glass, it takes a *minicritted* 9,000 damage.]

TwinBuilder:
  The FUCKER pops back in from a hole in the ceiling, landing right on Delta and smashing him.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Delta dodges, and immediately shrugs at both you and the Fucker.]
  **Delta: I guess, if you're not going to use that special, I will for you.**

TwinBuilder:
  i was about to use it though

Hand of Maybe:
  **Delta: Then do it.**

theedgeofstevensknife:
  The KOOL AID FUCKER uses Oh, No.
  colon mspa colon

TwinBuilder:
  His glass pitcher shudders and a very familiar white hat pops out. It's the hat...
  ...of...
  Fiesta Ace Dick.
  Fiesta Ace Dick goes on a rampage at Delta, smashing him into paste. It's of note that he has about a million HP if my knowledge of Problem Sleuth is right, so the beat down doesn't stop until Ace Dick is bored. Which takes a while.

Hand of Maybe:
  [As Fiesta Ace Dick emerges from the Kool-Aid Fucker, Delta sighs.]
**Delta: Oh, *come on*. *Two* people now? If you're going to kill me, I think you should do it yourself, snake robot. Wait, fuck. That's Binary. Snerson-controlled robot.**
  [He snaps his fingers, and a scroll burning with violet light appears in his hands.]

theedgeofstevensknife:
  three if you count delta honestly

Hand of Maybe:
  **> __Delta Function__: Alchemic Scroll: *Essence Shatter*.**

theedgeofstevensknife:
  *gamma

Hand of Maybe:
  [Your turn.]

theedgeofstevensknife:
  Cinavi drinks, at the very least...
  observe?

Hand of Maybe:
  Cinavi Kanera: [P] HP: 6,000/60,000. Burning with inescapable existential flame.

γ: [???] HP: 33,333/33,333. Pretty Much Useless In A Fight™. Concurrence: **II**. Burning with inescapable existential flame.
Δ: [???] HP: 11,444/44,444. ~~Gravitas: II.~~ Empowered by alchemical energies.

[You immediately get surprised by the fact that your entities are no longer there. Then, you realize something. You never *had* entities. In fact, they never even existed in the first place. You just dreamed up some damage for Delta out of nowhere.]

TwinBuilder:
  If we can dream up some damage from nowhere, we can do it again.
  Dream so hard that our dreams become a reality.
  Delta's neck suddenly snaps itself.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Delta buys a new one from the organic hardware store, and has it installed the following Tuesday.]

TwinBuilder:
  It's defective, unfortunately.
  His head kinda slips off and falls to the floor, unmoving.

Hand of Maybe:
  [His head falls off. It spins around, and speaks to you.]
**Delta: Man, fuck this. Just kill me already.**
[Delta's headless body snaps its fingers. His head pops back on its body with its old neck, fully functional.]
  =dice 1D2

Beta 42:
  ​I rolled those dice for you and got:
**1D2**: [1]  totaling **1**
I also counted the dice for you: {1: 1}

Hand of Maybe:
  [The existential fires' effects impact Gamma this turn. They take 5,000 damage.]

TwinBuilder:
  Use the Logogram to reveal that Delta was dead the whole time. After their mind broke and they went insane, they actually wore their body to the breaking point. With the stare of a million burning stars, flip Delta the bird with the Logogram. His head explodes as opposed to just falling off.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You hear Delta's headless body's snap echo through your mind again. The Logogram emits violet sparks feebly, but does nothing else.]

Crystal:
  Oh, huh.
  Thaumium knife time?

Bomber57:
  Bitch please.
  Show Delta what for and surprise him with the waffle iron. Yeah, I didn't forget about that. And by surprise him I mean beat the shit out of him with it.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You beat the shit out of Delta. He takes 10,000 damage, because I was *not* actually expecting that.]
  [You, however, then proceed to bear the brunt of the existential flames this turn, and take 5,000 damage.]

Bomber57:
  !

theedgeofstevensknife:
  The flames finish their rounds and murder Delta to death.

Hand of Maybe:
  [He absorbs them into his alchemical aura as it wears off, destroying both.]

theedgeofstevensknife:
  Just kind of stab him.

Bomber57:
  Observe for a moment tho

Hand of Maybe:
  Cinavi Kanera: [P] HP: 1,000/60,000.

γ: [???] HP: 28,333/33,333. Pretty Much Useless In A Fight™. Concurrence: **II**.
Δ: [???] HP: 1,444/44,444. ~~Gravitas: II.~~

TwinBuilder:
  Take the triangle that symbolizes Delta's name, turn it into a nigh-impossibly sharp point, and impale him with it. (maybe?)

Hand of Maybe:
  [Please confirm action directly, and without hesitation.]

Bomber57:
  Form a delta with your hands and grab the Delta symbol from the interface. Mold it into a deudly spike and send it right through his heart, because being stabbed by someone in the heart is one of the most symbolic forms of death.

Crystal:
  Aye to all courses of action that involve symbol-spawned ironic death, say I.

TwinBuilder:
  Yeah, go for it.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You attempt to stab Delta with his own name.]

Bomber57:
  HA. I just realized the pun there too, for you are literally murdering him with a symbol.

Hand of Maybe:
  [He quickly pulls the γ out of Gamma's name, and uses it to catch the Δ's point. The two click into place, forming a Ȳ Club, which Delta quickly discards.]
  [He then looks at you.]

theedgeofstevensknife:
  Club him to death

Hand of Maybe:
  [Not your turn!]

TwinBuilder:
  It is now.

theedgeofstevensknife:
  he wasted his action looking at us

Hand of Maybe:
  [He looks at you, and notices you have the Gamma Sword equipped.]
  **Delta: Oh, man. You even found the other half of *my* sword for me. How... kind? Yeah, let's go with that, even though I'm not entirely sure if snerson-controlled deathbots who aren't actually real can do kind things.**
  [He takes it, and points it at you, ready to deal the killing blow. Before he can, however, Gamma jumps on his back, throttling him.]
  [Choking and sputtering, gasping for air, Delta's violet eyes flash dangerously as he looks at you. He immediately takes the Gamma Blade in his hands, spins it around, and impales himself and Gamma simultaneously. A single note of finality echoes across the throne room.]

theedgeofstevensknife:
  ....well, that's about as useful as we could have expected.

Hand of Maybe:
  [Of course, Gamma takes the opportunity before they bleed to death to use Concurrence. Somehow.]
  [Violet and lime energies fill your vision. You close your eyes, and after several seconds, the light fades.]

TwinBuilder:
  Has the sigma been left behind?

Hand of Maybe:
  [You'd have to open your eyes to find out.]

TwinBuilder:
  Open.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You find a figure radiating with blue energies, bearing a replacement left leg of some odd ice filled with reflections of the cosmos, and holding a silver greatsword of some sort in one hand. They look at you, eyes darting over to gaze at you with lime irises, and speak, voice a combination of Delta's and something raspy and still *oh-so-weak* you don't recognize.]

**UΓOIYMS: *Take it!* Quick.**

[There's a ∑ in their hand.]

TwinBuilder:
  Take it.

Bomber57:
  Claim it.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. Your mind is filled with visions of a ring of stone separated into six segments, the first two already filled. Now, the third is as well. You are brought back to reality, however, by the sound of rumbling from above you all. Half of Utoiyms looks surprised, the other half resigned.]

TwinBuilder:
  What's going on?

theedgeofstevensknife:
  if i had to guess the session's ending

Hand of Maybe:
  [You wonder that yourself as, suddenly, a *massive* hand clad in deep red plate armor bursts through the ceiling.]

theedgeofstevensknife:
  oh no its the kool aid man

Hand of Maybe:
  [There's a flash of violet and lime, and you blink. When your vision clears, you see the hand retracting back into the infinite black abyss outside of the tombs. It's holding what appears to be a violet Δ with a ring of the very same violet energy surrounding it. An orange-irised-eye visible from the *one* slot in the armor on the palm of the hand stares at you intensely before it disappears. Utoiyms is gone, of course, and you sit in the wreckage of the room, immensely confused. There's a lime lowercase γ surrounded by a ring of lime energy lying on the floor before you.]

TwinBuilder:
  ...Take it as well?

Hand of Maybe:
  [You do so. As you hold it in your hands, it just sort of *dissolves into your flesh*, energy-ring, symbol, and all.]
  [A rush of adrenaline flows over your entire body for a second for no reason and particular, and you feel something that should not *be* there in the back of your mind, but there are otherwise no other major effects.]
  [Then, everything is very still, and very quiet. The darkness at the edges of your vision flickers and dances entrancingly.]

TwinBuilder:
  ...Gamma? Are you there?

Hand of Maybe:
  [For now, at least, there is no response.]

TwinBuilder:
  Alright then.
  Onwards?

Hand of Maybe:
  [Where to?]

TwinBuilder:
  Anywhere else besides from where we came in?

Hand of Maybe:
  [No.]

TwinBuilder:
  Then that way.

Hand of Maybe:
  [You turn around, and before you can take a step forward, you are immediately subsumed by the darkness.]

theedgeofstevensknife:
  rip

Hand of Maybe:
  [A hole overhead, below, and all around you drips darkness upon you. You appear to have fallen through a layer of the nightmare.]
  **END OF PART 3: SOLUS.**