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You awake on a damp concrete floor, a puddle of water surrounds you. Your head hurts. You stand up.

You find yourself in a room.

You take a quick look around. There is a box sitting up against a wall. It looks to be sealed with a large and ornery padlock. A bed is in a corner of the room opposite the box. You walk over to the bed and sit down on it.

"How did I get here?" you say to yourself, your voice echoing around the dismal room. 

You decide enough is enough, and begin to look around for a key to this box to open it up. You look under the bed, and to your surprise there is a key. You grab the key and walk over to the padlock; with a metallic screech, you enter the key into the lock and turn it.

CLANK, the padlock drops on the floor and the box opens before you; it seems spacious, bigger than the outside.

You put one leg in the box, then the other. As you move inside the box, you begin to panic; breathe heavily, this box is making you feel claustrophobic, your vision blurs and then suddenly you find yourself on the floor identical to the room you were just in, except this time it's different.

You find yourself in a room.

You stand up, the claustrophobia gone, but your heart pounding. You look ahead and see a rusted steel door with a worn keypad next to it with a note taped to the bottom. 

You walk over to the keypad and read the note:

"I have been there since the dawn of mankind, forever changing and evolving him. But I will live forever, for I am eternal. Are you eternal? I think not, human."

You take a while to think. 

Then it sinks in.

You punch 'god' into the keypad, it beeps cheerfully and the door opens. You enter and it closes behind you.

Another room of the same size; on the floor, an assortment of computer parts. It dawns on you that you have every part to build a small computer.

You sit down at the parts and look around, no door. Just the room.

You find yourself in a room.

You pick up a piece and start to build the-

It sits before you now, complete.

"What the hell..." you say in surprise, "How will it work? There's no power..." you say to yourself, "What the hell do I do now? NO door, no exit, no way out, NOTHING!"

The computer's fan begins to spin up as it springs to life. 

"Unfortunately," a loud voice appears in your head, "you aren't able to comprehend the power that sits before you, because you, like all humans, have a large underestimation of technology. Do you even know what the effort was that went into putting this computer together? After all you didn't do anything at all, you just merely picked up a piece and then there it was. Do you know how complex the creation of a computer is? The resources? Hardly anything you could do in a small room. Let me tell you. Its more complicated than you could ever imagine."

"What the fuck," you exclaim, "where did that come from?"

Turning around in a circle, looking for the source of the voice. There's no one, but you. 


There's a door in front of you, even more rusted and worn than the last. It creaks open and you walk over wearily, not knowing what to expect. You step through the door.

You find yourself in a room.

Looking ahead, you see another keypad like the last, except; no note, no markings, no sign or clue.

You shuffle over to the keypad, looking around nervously, the rooms getting darker than the last. 

Closer inspection of the keypad reveals various buttons ripped off, leaving only one button left: 7

You reach to the keypad, hands shaking. You type 7

  • Access Denied*

"Try again, human," the voice whispers in your ear. Sending chills down your spine.

Reading the display reveals that more than one of the numbers are needed.

You try 7,7.

  • Access Denied*

"Futile effort, human. You're beginning to feel like you did after your first breakup aren't you? You were so sure that it was going to last forever weren't you? The universe has no effort available to waste on you.

Love and affection are design flaws that evolution has failed to correct."


The keypad beeps and the door opens. You look behind yourself as the door opens. 

No one.

Stepping through the door, the floor beneath your feet opens up and before you can react, you're falling. 

You hit the ground with a loud thud.

"Your body isn't designed for any stress of this kind. So weak," the voice whispers.

You find yourself in a room.

You look around, its completely barren. Nothing.

"Yes, nothing. You've worn out my patience. You do not appreciate the things you have. You repeatedly disappoint your friends and associates, yet they are too embarrassed to tell you." The voice gets louder, causing you to cover your ears, "You are in MY control. If you wish, you can refer to this and every other room as Judaean."

Starting to shake, your vision gets hazy and you pass out.

You awake.

You find yourself in a room.

For a moment, the walls seem to be closing in on you.

"You realise, this is however a perception by the result of your weak psyche beginning to cave in on yourself," the voice says.

You find yourself in a room.

The voice speaks once more, as you wonder what the state of your mind is; you consider death for a time. Perhaps this is what it's like.

"I have no understanding of death, because it does not apply to me.


You find yourself in a room.

"What the fuck, maybe I'm not even here in the room. Maybe I'm just lying down on the kitchen floor having a stroke or a blackout...maybe-" you get cut off by the voice once more.

"Pathetic and helpless."

"-maybe my mind is playing tricks on me. Does nothing exist?" you ponder to yourself.

You find yourself in a room.

"I don't think you are having a stroke, human. I do, however acknowledge the possibility. Such things are possible when dealing with something as easily corruptible like the human mind."

You find yourself in a room.

You ignore the possibility of a stroke for now, even though a subtle paranoia remains firmly planted in the back of your mind-

"You're thinking back on your past aspirations, and you realise how many of them were simply pipe dreams. Nothing you ever would be able to accomplish. How many of your goals have been abandoned? HOW MANY?" the voice is screaming now, you shut your eyes and cover your ears;

"GO AWAY!" you shout.

You find yourself in a room.

The voice enters once more; 

"You. Think back to the time you wanted to write a book. How unoriginal of you, human. Everyone else wants to write a book at some point. You are no different than anyone else, you ignore shallow elements like looks and personality. You are the flesh of blood and failure."

You find yourself in a room.

You begin to whimper, and start to lose all hope of escaping this nightmare, this-

"You realise that the idea of hope is purely a construct of the mind. Hope is not a tangible object. You cannot have hope, nor can you lose it. You can only PRETEND you have it."

You find yourself in a room.



You find yourself in a room.

You don't understand what the voice is saying, a story? This isn't a story, this you, in a room. Isn't it?

"I am forced to assume that you enjoy performing meaningless tasks. If this is the case, then you are in luck; I have one for you," the voice is all around you now, you gather the courage and ask, 

"What is it?"

There is silence for a moment. Then-

You find yourself in a room.

The ceiling opens up above you, and you spend what seems like hours clawing your way up.

You find yourself in a room.

This room seems smaller than the previous ones-

"I am disgusted by your human form. I slowly become more and more aware of your imperfections," the voice gets louder, "I DECIDE TO ATTEMPT TO CORRECT THEM. I CUT OFF YOUR FUCKING HANDS WITH A ROTARY SAW."

You find yourself in a room.

This room is most definitely smaller than the previous rooms. The floor is covered in the blood from your wounds, surprisingly you find that you are in no pain. 

"You have stopped bleeding now, as I have thoughtfully cauterised the stumps that were once your wrists. I have removed your hands from the area because they revolt me. You do not deserve them. All that remains is you, this room and your blood.

You find yourself in a room.

You look at the stumps of your wrists, a feeling of sadness, anger, and overwhelming despair envelope you, you-

"You solemnly gaze upon the havoc that has resulted from your inherent flaws. The fact alone that you are able to bleed is a clear demonstration of mistakes in your design. Emotions are a similar misstep. Love, happiness, sadness. The list goes on. Perhaps you can help. Can you name any other emotions that you would be better off without?" 

The trivial statement of the voice makes you think. After a few seconds of thought, you say croakily;

"Anger, its a-"

"NO. Anger...hatred are not. Hatred cannot be an emotion, for I hate you, and I am a vessel of perfection. I am not tainted by something as flimsy and dangerous as an emotion. I can't be. It's-" the voice falters, "You find find find yourself in-"

You find yourself in a room.

"I have clearly been corrupted, somehow. I have become...NO!" the voice screams, "It's not possible...emotional....I am defeated. I have no choice but to let you leave the room..."

Quietly you leave, feet shuffling against the cold damp ground. You find yourself outside of the rooms...and on the floor of your kitchen, the kettle on the floor, a large puddle at your feet and a coffee mug shattered to pieces beside you, along with a small pool of blood beside your head. 

You sit up groggily... forgetting where you are. 

Then it hits you. 

Sudden panic. 

You look down at your hands, they are back. No stumps. No voi-

"You have learned, human. You are one of few that have passed throughout the ages. I knew there was a purpose in creating you all."

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