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GRAVEYARD β¨
POPULATION: GHOST TOWN
You die - and then you wake up.
For a second, it feels as though you can't breathe, and then your head breaks the surface. You crawl out of a pool of blood and into a large, crystalline room. Moving images play across the crystal walls, and if you watch close enough, you'll realize that you're seeing the land of the living; a familiar space station with familiar faces. You can watch these images for as long as you'd like - there are several very large benches (as in, you have to climb them to sit on them) around the room for you to rest on while you do.
Regardless of how you died, it seems as though you're not quite gone completely. You're in one piece, at least. That's good news. However, your surroundings are not exactly what you remember.
When you exit the first room, a bleak, empty city sprawls out ahead of you.
The city itself is large. The framework of it seems to tower higher and higher than you can see, up into the black opal sky that shivers and curls every so often. A river entirely made of blood runs through the city, winding around buildings and ending at the crystal room. The most noticeable thing about the buildings themselves is the fact that thorny vines made of pure white steel dig into the walls and floor, cracking the foundations.
The residential building is worn down and old. It's two floors, and has a few small studio apartments built for one or two people to live in. The beds are extremely uncomfortable. It has a communal area downstairs, but the TV is broken, and the couches are torn apart. Sometimes, this building feels obscenely hot in temperature, and smells like rotten eggs.
The grocery store is your typical convenience store. There's a large selection of food in this area, but it all tastes the same - like chalk. On top of this, every so often there will be bloodstains on the walls, the floor, and the displays. They change in size and location, each time you enter the store.
The clothing store is thrifty in nature. All the clothes here are uncomfortable and scratchy, and don't fit quite right. While you're here, time feels... weird. Distorted, almost dreamy. As you're picking out clothes and trying them on (no money needed, just take what you want), you swear you can hear a gunshot in the distance.
Enjoy your time in this city, and remember...your story isn't quite over yet.
β¨ FULL NAVIGATION β¨
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Query: I was, however, curious about one part of your untimely demise: was your body immolated before or after your fatal fall? Or were you not aware of it?
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That dancer woman, with the brown hair.
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Was she cute?
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Observation: What an indulgent way to finish one's work, setting a helpless victim on fire. By no means efficient but probably quite a spectacle to watch. Ah, it has been far too long since I have spent time with meatbags that exhibit such innovative methods of execution.
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Observation: It is the difference between intentional design for a purpose and random evolutionary chance. It is not your fault that you are flawed, and you should take comfort that there are Galactic species far more easily killed than humans.
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Statement: While there is certainly enjoyment to be had in the eradication of unsuspecting defenseless meatbags, I was specifically created to eliminate the Jedi, highly skilled combatants. There is far more satisfaction in a well-earned kill, do you not agree?
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Statement: That is something on which I am very, very happy to agree on, meatbag.
Query: Do you perhaps have a record of kills in one encounter? Or a favorite memory?
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