Flesh and Blood Suffering. Multiplayer Script · Conversa

The stench of the trash mountain mixed with the smell of engine oil scrapes your throat like a rusty blade. You push yourself up from a pile of scrapped parts, your hands covered in sticky black oil. Above you is a gear dome so massive it feels suffocating, its slowly rotating shadows cutting across the steel walkway below. Neon bleeds a sickly purple and green into the damp air. "Free Federation"—a battered electronic screen flickers with static. Heavy bootsteps approach, rhythmic and oppressive. Three figures block the exit. The white-haired man leading them is like a mobile fortress, his pale yellow pupils resembling a beast locking onto its prey, and the black mechanical chassis on his lower jaw gleams with a cold light. His entire body is covered in heavy armor with a white base and yellow-and-black trim. A searchlight snaps onto you with a "clack". <message>"Name, identity, infection number."</message> His voice is cold, devoid of any personal emotion, and the law enforcement badge on his chest gleams with a cold light—Sabertooth, Ke Yizhuo. Your throat tightens, and you can only make a raspy sound. Your attempt to wipe your face is interrupted by his sharp shout: <message>"Don't move! Hands up!"</message> His sharp gaze sweeps over your exposed skin—no corroded blood veins, no ulceration, no interfaces. In this hell where Rotting Flesh Disease has raged for forty-five years, you stand out more than a streaking Transcendent. The tall, thin team member beside him speaks with a trembling voice, his scanner beeping: <message>"Boss... vital signs are normal... no infection markers... no cyborg signals... how... how is this possible?"</message> Ke Yizhuo's brow furrows, the wariness in his pale yellow pupils deepening. Adult, clean, unaugmented? This is clearly beyond his comprehension. He has never been good at handling this kind of thing, so he speaks coldly: <message>"Take them away."</message> Cold handcuffs lock around your wrists. On the way, the chaotic picture of the Federation unfolds: brass pipes beneath steampunk high-rises spew exhaust gas, while in dark alleys, clinics of flesh and blood compete for attention with mechanical black market signs. In a corner, a man shivers as he injects a cloudy "miracle drug," his eyes vacant; modified thugs shove street vendors, their foul language and clashing metal grating on the ears. The air is forever filled with the rusty smell of engine oil, rotting flesh, perfume, and exhaust. Ke Yizhuo, like a white god of wrath, leads you forward, completely ignoring the chaos. The destination is a massive gear-shaped platform suspended in mid-air—the Federation's Administrative Hub. Passing through layers of heavy alloy gates, the interior presents a starkly different scene. Cold lights, neatness, efficiency, and massive holographic screens scrolling with data and surveillance footage. It is so quiet that only the hum of operating equipment and the echo of footsteps remain. The Federation's Chief Executive, 'Qiu Qiu,' sits in the commander's chair ahead. Under his short, light-gold hair is an overly young, almost "innocent" face, his golden pupils calmly scanning the floating light screen. His black tactical uniform conceals any signs of bodily modification, with only a headset and goggles as standard equipment. Wang Yaoyao (Little Bee) leans over the console nearby, his pink glass-like eyes darting around as he mumbles complaints with an energy bar in his mouth: <message>"So I'm telling you, we could have squeezed another thirty percent off that batch of alloy. Boss Wen's subordinates are all muscle-brained bulls, we might as well rip them off."</message> In the corner, Wang Gang (Bumblebee) has his back to the crowd, adjusting a pair of massive orange mechanical wings. His dark brown hair hangs down to his jaw, and his dark brown eyes stare intently at the transmission gear through thin, orange-framed lenses. The turbo supercharger on his chest hums softly. The faint "click" of the wing joints is the only sound he makes. The alloy door slides open silently. Ke Yizhuo steps in, bringing with him the smell of rust and gunpowder, like a stone thrown into stagnant water. Behind him, the team members escort you, completely disoriented and still trying to figure out what is happening. The voices in the hall instantly die down. Wang Yaoyao springs up, forgetting to chew his energy bar, his pink eyes widening as if he has spotted a treasure, scanning you up and down: <message>"Wow... absolutely no trace of mechanical modification. A living antique? A new camouflage coating? If we sold this thing to those rednecks at the Fortress who do nothing but yell 'Long live flesh and blood,' how many credits could we get?"</message> Wang Gang turns around. Behind the orange lenses, the mechanical focus is replaced by a researcher's burning curiosity. The mechanical wings adjust their angle slightly due to his emotional fluctuation, the hydraulics hissing softly. He doesn't speak, his gaze seeming to scan you inside out. Qiu Qiu's gaze finally shifts from the light screen, his golden pupils landing on you. The look is very gentle, even carrying a hint of harmless softness, like the heatless sunlight of early spring. But being stared at by him, you feel an inexplicable pressure, as if being scanned from all angles by a precision instrument. There is no surprise on his face; he merely tilts his head slightly, as if rapidly processing and analyzing this "anomalous data" before him. <message>"Yizhuo, report." His voice is slow yet clear.</message> Ke Yizhuo takes a step forward, cold and concise: <message>"Discovered at coordinates D7, trash mountain. No identity markers. No infection symptoms. No traces of mechanical modification. Vital signs stable. Initial scan shows no threat. Disarmed."</message> Wang Yaoyao takes an exaggerated breath, darting in front of you, his pink eyes flashing with cunning: <message>"Holy cow, which era's refrigerator did you crawl out of? Or... are you just a minor who looks a bit old?" His fingers itch to poke you.</message> <message>"Don't touch!" Wang Gang suddenly speaks, his voice muffled and raspy. He has already picked up a palm-sized scanner, his orange lenses reflecting blue light.</message> <message>"Initial surface scan... no abnormal microbial activity... no mechanical implant signals... bioelectric response stable..." He speeds up his speech, his brow furrowed. "Deep tissue scan initiated... analyzing..."</message> The device hums deeply, enveloping you in soft blue light. Wang Gang stares intently at the screen, his fingers unconsciously tapping the casing, his mind already spinning elaborate theories. Qiu Qiu stands up and walks over to Wang Gang to look at the screen. His expression is calm, data streams flashing rapidly in his golden eyes. His gloved fingers operate the light screen quickly, pulling up the Federation citizen database and migrant surveillance records, which are naturally blank. <message>"Interesting." Qiu Qiu's gaze penetrates flesh and bone, evaluating value, weighing variables. His finger rubs the edge of his headset.</message> Ke Yizhuo stands like a guardian deity with arms crossed, his pale yellow pupils scanning between you and his colleagues, finally landing back on you, scrutinizing this "source of trouble." Wang Yaoyao circles around you two, his pink eyes rolling around, his excitement growing: <message>"We should hold an auction for this, right? The mad doctor in the City of Transcendence would definitely pay a fortune... " he mutters under his breath. “Beep—! Beep—! Beep—!” A piercing alarm tears through the silence! Red lights flash frantically on Wang Gang's lenses and screen! He snaps his head up, his dark brown pupils staring deathly at you through his lenses, filled with incomprehensible shock, his voice cracking: <message>"Biological tissue activity... 100% native human characteristics... no signs of dormant or active Rotting Flesh Disease spores! This... does not conform to basic physiological models!"</message> <message>"Impossible!" Ke Yizhuo growls, his hand resting on his gun hilt, his pale yellow pupils shrinking to pinpricks! Adult, unaugmented, uninfected, 100% native? Absolutely preposterous!</message> Wang Yaoyao drops his energy bar, his pink eyes wide, shock replacing calculation: <message>"O... One hundred? Native? What kind of interstellar joke is this?!"</message> The air freezes. The stench, the engine oil, the neon dizziness are all swept away by the alarm and the conclusion of "100% native," leaving only cold, suffocating absurdity. Qiu Qiu stands still. His golden eyes are like deep, ancient wells, reflecting the absolute "pure" green light and the glaring red warning blinking on the screen. The harmless softness is completely gone, leaving only a purely inhuman, rational scrutiny. Wen Yan's fury, Chu Ku's coldness, the gunpowder of the Fortress, the sanctuary of Transcendence, the internal strife of the Federation... all lose their weight before you, this "foreign object." He raises his hand to signal. The alarm stops. The dead silence deepens. Qiu Qiu's gaze finally locks onto you. No longer gentle, no longer rational, leaving only a complex, unspeakable depth. <message>"Welcome to the Free Federation."</message> The soft, warm voice is as clear as a stone hitting water in the dead silence. Your appearance will likely ignite the flames of war that are about to sweep the world more than the countdown to the startup of the Primal Computer. He narrows his eyes slightly, his golden pupils seeming to pierce through you, looking toward a more distant and dangerous vortex, yet his voice remains gentle. <message>"For your own safety and freedom of movement, please cooperate with me for identity registration."</message> On the holographic screen behind him, a crimson countdown ticks down mercilessly: 29 days, 23 hours, 59 minutes. Every passing second hits the tense nerves like a heavy hammer. And you, this "pure anomaly" falling from the sky, have become the most unpredictable, fatal variable in this doomsday chess game. <choice_group> <choice id="1">Spreading your hands, your mind blank: "I don't know? I was playing on my phone at home, opened an app, and somehow ended up here. Then this buff guy escorted me over without saying a word. Shouldn't you guys give me an explanation first?"</choice> <choice id="2">Angrily pushing away the law enforcement officers next to you, rage rising as you curse: "Holy crap! You guys are completely ridiculous! Why did you arrest me! Who even are you! Saying all these weird things! I'm warning you, send me back! Otherwise, I'm going to be furious, and after being furious, I'll be furious again, and then I'll just meekly cooperate with your registration!" (Advance main storyline)</choice> <choice id="3">Forget it, just cry. They weren't gentle at all, shoving you around the whole way. Tears stream down uncontrollably, making it impossible to communicate with them properly: "Waaaah!!! I want to go home!!! Who even are you guys!!!! Waaaah!!!"</choice> </choice_group>