[Static. The picture is still coming into focus, but you can hear the drumming of long nails. Finally a woman comes into clarity,
cigarette still clenched between her red lips in concentration as she fiddles with the volume on the PCD. Once satisfied she backs off, leaning into the camera like the juiciest confessional.]
No, wait. Don't tell me. [
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You've arrived in Adstringendum, and you won't find an information kiosk.
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Compression, huh? That's fascinating. Did the Great Old Ones get bored and start smushing worlds together like action figures?
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I don't know who the 'Great Old Ones' are, but you can blame the Animus for your being here.
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Oh, so it's a team-building everybody works together kind of game? I can dig it.
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Not really.
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Really? Every man for himself sounds super constructive, too. Awesome.
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