| [Gottlieb] |
Gottlieb stands down in the corridor, staring up at the blue light shining up above him from the camera.
The metal corridor is fully illuminated, the electronics humming loudly in his ears with a reassuring buzz. Somehow, through a great miracle that is the result of fortune, a bit of foresight, and the strange laws of this universe, the station has been outfitted with its own internal nuclear reactor — the logistics of which he is not even going to begin to question. It’s Kai’s problem, as far as he’s concerned.
Now, with the electricity restored to the station, many of the problems with the sun going out have been solved, at least aboard the station, in essence permanently.
He nods to the camera, walking off down the corridor, looking at the cracks and crevices, in which monsters had made their nests during the dark hours. A hole partially fills itself from the inside for a moment, as something slimy slides through the pipes on the inside, dragging tools with her through the cracks — Blauhausen, the ooze.
The dried blood on the exterior of the damaged metals hints at the fact that Schwarzwasser and the rest of the security team have already been here, clearing out the monsters and driving them back into the furthest recesses of the station. As long as they don’t get any strange creatures, like the reactor drake again, it’s likely only a matter of time until they fully purge the station of monsters, bringing it fully under the control of humanity.
— Humanity being him and Kai. It’s a shame that his theory with the ghosts didn’t work out, but it was worth a try.
Unfortunately, since then, he simply hasn’t had a better idea. Maybe Kai really is the best thing to invest in, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, in order to ensure the future prosperity of humanity.
Gottlieb makes his way back to the gunner’s bay.
| [Results] - Scan complete. Exterior sensory apparatuses have detected a significant gravitational anomaly in the theoretical astronomical position of the sun. The anomaly is that the gravitational pull of the sun remains constant despite the entirety of its mass being dislocated. This is evidenced by the fact that only the sun’s heat and light are missing from the world below, but the world’s prospective rotational positioning in space remains as always. Summary: The sun is missing, but the non-visible effects of its presence still remain. |
Gottlieb nods. “So what are we thinking?” asks the man. “We going with the ‘belief shapes reality’ theory?
| [Response] - The probability of this hypothesis being correct has significantly increased. Only the traditionally perceivable effects of the sun are missing from the world below. However, all of the sun’s imperceivable, physical effects on the world that require a significant grasp of modern fundamentals to understand are unaffected. It appears that the population of the planet is indeed forging its own self-fulfilling prophecy. |
Grunheide looks at him. “Wait, so what, the people on the planet believe the sun is going to go away, and that makes it… just vanish? The whole sun.”
“Yup,” replies Gottlieb, nodding. He crosses his arms, thinking. “Maybe this same system is also responsible for us arriving here to begin with,” he puzzles.
| [Remark] - It is possible. |
He looks down at the world on display on the monitor. “Kai, do we have eyes on anything?” he asks, looking at the darkened planet down below them.
| [Response] - Isolated heat signatures from fire-sites and forges allow for brief windows of detection and identification of various settlements and locations of note. However, visibility conditions are poor. Even with live image upscaling, significant details are hard to identify via video feeds. |
“How’s the slime looking?” asks Gottlieb, turning to Grunheide. “We need the gun back online. We need those new conduits as soon as possible.”
She shakes her head, shrugging. “It’s hard to say. Slimes grow on their own, but they need food,” explains the goblin.
The two of them stare at one another.
“Grunheide,” says Gottlieb, looking at her.
“…What?”
The man lifts his arms, gesturing broadly at everything. “If that’s the case, then why the hell aren’t you feeding the slime?” he asks.
The goblin stares at him and then shrugs. “It’s not my job,” she explains. “I’m the auxiliary gunner, not the slime feeder. Doesn’t fall under my purview.”
Gottlieb stares at her as she blankly looks back his way.
He turns his head, looking at the monitor. “Kai. Do we have a brig?”
| [Response] - Orbital Gunner Gottlieb is well aware that prisoners are not taken aboard the orbital weapons platform. |
“Yeah, well, maybe we grew one?” he remarks. “How the hell should I know?” He looks back at the goblin. “Grun. Feed that damn slime,” he orders. “People are literally depending on us here,” he explains, clapping the back of his hand into an open palm.
“Humans,” remarks Grunheide, rolling her eyes. “Not people.”
“What?”
“Feed the slime, on it,” says Grunheide, jumping off of her chair and slowly meandering off, grabbing hold of the metal flask the slime is trapped inside.
Gottlieb sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The monitor next to him beeps, and he already feels the snark coming at him from the digital realm before he even turns his eyes to look out of the corner of his vision.
| [Remark] - Now you know how I feel. |
Razmatazz
Just a short one today. I'm on vacation. We'll be wrapping the story up soon in this final arc. =)
| [Gottlieb] |
Gottlieb stands down in the corridor, staring up at the blue light shining up above him from the camera.
The metal corridor is fully illuminated, the electronics humming loudly in his ears with a reassuring buzz. Somehow, through a great miracle that is the result of fortune, a bit of foresight, and the strange laws of this universe, the station has been outfitted with its own internal nuclear reactor — the logistics of which he is not even going to begin to question. It’s Kai’s problem, as far as he’s concerned.
Now, with the electricity restored to the station, many of the problems with the sun going out have been solved, at least aboard the station, in essence permanently.
He nods to the camera, walking off down the corridor, looking at the cracks and crevices, in which monsters had made their nests during the dark hours. A hole partially fills itself from the inside for a moment, as something slimy slides through the pipes on the inside, dragging tools with her through the cracks — Blauhausen, the ooze.
The dried blood on the exterior of the damaged metals hints at the fact that Schwarzwasser and the rest of the security team have already been here, clearing out the monsters and driving them back into the furthest recesses of the station. As long as they don’t get any strange creatures, like the reactor drake again, it’s likely only a matter of time until they fully purge the station of monsters, bringing it fully under the control of humanity.
— Humanity being him and Kai. It’s a shame that his theory with the ghosts didn’t work out, but it was worth a try.
Unfortunately, since then, he simply hasn’t had a better idea. Maybe Kai really is the best thing to invest in, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, in order to ensure the future prosperity of humanity.
Gottlieb makes his way back to the gunner’s bay.
| [Results] - Scan complete. Exterior sensory apparatuses have detected a significant gravitational anomaly in the theoretical astronomical position of the sun. The anomaly is that the gravitational pull of the sun remains constant despite the entirety of its mass being dislocated. This is evidenced by the fact that only the sun’s heat and light are missing from the world below, but the world’s prospective rotational positioning in space remains as always. Summary: The sun is missing, but the non-visible effects of its presence still remain. |
Gottlieb nods. “So what are we thinking?” asks the man. “We going with the ‘belief shapes reality’ theory?
| [Response] - The probability of this hypothesis being correct has significantly increased. Only the traditionally perceivable effects of the sun are missing from the world below. However, all of the sun’s imperceivable, physical effects on the world that require a significant grasp of modern fundamentals to understand are unaffected. It appears that the population of the planet is indeed forging its own self-fulfilling prophecy. |
Grunheide looks at him. “Wait, so what, the people on the planet believe the sun is going to go away, and that makes it… just vanish? The whole sun.”
“Yup,” replies Gottlieb, nodding. He crosses his arms, thinking. “Maybe this same system is also responsible for us arriving here to begin with,” he puzzles.
| [Remark] - It is possible. |
He looks down at the world on display on the monitor. “Kai, do we have eyes on anything?” he asks, looking at the darkened planet down below them.
| [Response] - Isolated heat signatures from fire-sites and forges allow for brief windows of detection and identification of various settlements and locations of note. However, visibility conditions are poor. Even with live image upscaling, significant details are hard to identify via video feeds. |
“How’s the slime looking?” asks Gottlieb, turning to Grunheide. “We need the gun back online. We need those new conduits as soon as possible.”
She shakes her head, shrugging. “It’s hard to say. Slimes grow on their own, but they need food,” explains the goblin.
The two of them stare at one another.
“Grunheide,” says Gottlieb, looking at her.
“…What?”
The man lifts his arms, gesturing broadly at everything. “If that’s the case, then why the hell aren’t you feeding the slime?” he asks.
The goblin stares at him and then shrugs. “It’s not my job,” she explains. “I’m the auxiliary gunner, not the slime feeder. Doesn’t fall under my purview.”
Gottlieb stares at her as she blankly looks back his way.
He turns his head, looking at the monitor. “Kai. Do we have a brig?”
| [Response] - Orbital Gunner Gottlieb is well aware that prisoners are not taken aboard the orbital weapons platform. |
“Yeah, well, maybe we grew one?” he remarks. “How the hell should I know?” He looks back at the goblin. “Grun. Feed that damn slime,” he orders. “People are literally depending on us here,” he explains, clapping the back of his hand into an open palm.
“Humans,” remarks Grunheide, rolling her eyes. “Not people.”
“What?”
“Feed the slime, on it,” says Grunheide, jumping off of her chair and slowly meandering off, grabbing hold of the metal flask the slime is trapped inside.
Gottlieb sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. The monitor next to him beeps, and he already feels the snark coming at him from the digital realm before he even turns his eyes to look out of the corner of his vision.
| [Remark] - Now you know how I feel. |
Razmatazz
Just a short one today. I'm on vacation. We'll be wrapping the story up soon in this final arc. =)
