pandatreasure (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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randangonpa2018-02-04 04:35 am
pandatreasure) wrote in randangonpa2018-02-04 04:35 am
ENDGAME/EPILOG
[In the control room, the raccoons float quietly in their pods; none of the wild cackling from before, no raucous mocking—Where did those pesky animatronics go, anyway? Maybe not every question has been answered, but...how much does it matter? The lost souls are back, tangible and whole, though marked still by whatever's done them in. Maybe those scars and aches won't fade, either.
A metric fuckton of experimenting has gotten us to the answer of how to get back to where we belong: the first control room console makes it easy to find the thumbnail of your world, and, when selected, it automatically brings you to twenty two days from moment you were kidnapped from. It's easy to see an image where you should be there and aren't, and simply select it. The program confirms that you'd like to initiate the transport process, and directs you to stand on the glowing platform; have someone hit the button to shut the process down, or it will time itself out in five minutes.
Is the moment you were brought from not good enough? What about the rewards you were promised? It seems as though specifying those offers or threads isn't quite possible, but the console has two options, each manipulable independently of each other: you can control the date and time, allowing yourself to return as though you hadn't been kidnapped at all. You can also use a slider at the bottom to control the quality of the universe you're brought back to, sliding from the carrot to the stick side: A world where everything that possibly could have gone right for you and those you'd want it for does, where every choice and chance resolves in your favor...or one where there isn't a single moment that isn't conspiring to work against you.
It should be that simple, but...none of those are your universes. Trying to go to any universe but the one marked for you, and/or at any point but that three-week span you've been gone, prompts a warning message about a duplicate version of anyone belonging to that world. It asks if you'd like to proceed, and warns you once more by giving names of potential "doppelgangers"—but will not stop you from stepping onto the platform as it twinkles blue light, regardless. Is improvement worth interfering, maybe destroying, the life of another you?
That choice is up to you. For the first time in a long time, these choices are yours.
It's over. Happy graduation day.]
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[then it's all back together again]
I don't want to have to explain them.
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[No really, he thought Will would fight to keep them. But anyway that's not why he came to talk to Will.]
Are you sorry? For everything you did here, I mean.
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And since I am pragmatic, no, I'm not.
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I'm not going to forgive you for what you did to Tsumugi, then. The act of forgiving someone is pointless if they don't want to be forgiven. Instead, I'll hope that you eventually reach the point where you do feel bad for it all and want to change.
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