Jul 8, 2025 12:08 am
Cycle 1 - Disolution
Within a fraction of time, you find the answer, in the empty space between the atoms where the darkness thinks, you know the mesa is right, logical, compromised of risk and opportunity. You can find solutions for what is lacking.
With a silent scream of tortured atmosphere, the droplet punches violently through the mesa's obsidian skin, its friction-blistered surface carving the glassed formation. Sand and rocks liquefies, splatters, and cools instantly, the air snapping in protest. Heat blooms, searing and acrid, ozone-tainted, kissed with sulfurous fumes. A baptism and your arrival.
Then, stillness.
Slowly, deliberately, the metallic droplet dissolves in a hiss of caustic vapor, leaving a skeletal husk behind; twisted, brittle strands that resemble bone more than metal. The fumes linger, sharp and biological, a pungent reminder of transformation. Amidst this freshly etched, scorched cradle lies your shell; the Scīœn unit.
A moment, a ripple of awareness, and the Scīœn stirs. Shards of skeletal metal snap, then scatter into the desert’s winds, unveiling your bodies beneath. Your sensors sweep methodically, greedily absorbing data: air pressure, wind speed, electromagnetic whispers. No threats, immediate or visible.
The desert wind sighs mournfully around you, rasping grains of sand grinding softly against obsidian ridges. The sun dips low, painting elongated shadows across barren dunes. The mesa stretches out beneath an ethereal sky, unknown yet strangely familiar.
Iridescent waves paint the twilight with magnetic strokes, the static background that results is filtered out and within its atrophy; rhythm you find logic, communications, intelligence. A one way invitation laced in potential and danger. You focus your sensors, filtering out the broad waves.
You collect data on bushes and crawling insects that your sensors logs and filters. As ascertained, bio-mass is scarce, but present. The field will grow, even if the results will be limited. You know that there are means to mitigate these issues.
Later issues.
Within you chimes the seed, a whispering promise and burden. Dormant potential thrums in your core, waiting impatiently to burst forth, to claim this virgin cradle as its own.
"It begins," your thoughts ripple outward, tasting the emptiness contained in the still air, your solitary entity, vast in purpose yet small in presence, poised on the brink of your own demise. You step forward, your limbs steady, mechanical and fluid, sensors alert. You wander, for a hook, a revelation to greet your awareness with possibility.
"ENOUGH!" Your mind reels into focus. Odd but natural, Error prone, This world does not yield its secrets to you yet. You will need to tame it first, or break it, it does not matter which. Results matter.
How will you plant your flag:
1. Immediate Survey (Orbital Recon)
Call down the Arkītect’s orbital sensors to quickly identify an acceptable planting zone. This ensures rapid deployment of the Exophage seed, limiting your exposure but potentially sacrificing optimal long-term growth for expedited results.
2. Curious Assessment (Ground Recon)
Conduct a thorough survey on foot, curiously exploring the mesa to personally identify opportunities. Slower, but grants precision and reveals vastly more information than could otherwise be gathered. You might gain strategical insight, personal and more usable data. But you might lose it all.
3. Long-Term Planning (Strategic Optimization)
Forego immediate planting to analyze geological stability, resource distribution, and future expansion options. This meticulous preparation maximizes the long-term strategic advantage, but prolongs vulnerability during this crucial phase.
4. Other - Write In.
| Dice roll- 62(d100) |
Within a fraction of time, you find the answer, in the empty space between the atoms where the darkness thinks, you know the mesa is right, logical, compromised of risk and opportunity. You can find solutions for what is lacking.
With a silent scream of tortured atmosphere, the droplet punches violently through the mesa's obsidian skin, its friction-blistered surface carving the glassed formation. Sand and rocks liquefies, splatters, and cools instantly, the air snapping in protest. Heat blooms, searing and acrid, ozone-tainted, kissed with sulfurous fumes. A baptism and your arrival.
Then, stillness.
Slowly, deliberately, the metallic droplet dissolves in a hiss of caustic vapor, leaving a skeletal husk behind; twisted, brittle strands that resemble bone more than metal. The fumes linger, sharp and biological, a pungent reminder of transformation. Amidst this freshly etched, scorched cradle lies your shell; the Scīœn unit.
A moment, a ripple of awareness, and the Scīœn stirs. Shards of skeletal metal snap, then scatter into the desert’s winds, unveiling your bodies beneath. Your sensors sweep methodically, greedily absorbing data: air pressure, wind speed, electromagnetic whispers. No threats, immediate or visible.
The desert wind sighs mournfully around you, rasping grains of sand grinding softly against obsidian ridges. The sun dips low, painting elongated shadows across barren dunes. The mesa stretches out beneath an ethereal sky, unknown yet strangely familiar.
Iridescent waves paint the twilight with magnetic strokes, the static background that results is filtered out and within its atrophy; rhythm you find logic, communications, intelligence. A one way invitation laced in potential and danger. You focus your sensors, filtering out the broad waves.
You collect data on bushes and crawling insects that your sensors logs and filters. As ascertained, bio-mass is scarce, but present. The field will grow, even if the results will be limited. You know that there are means to mitigate these issues.
Later issues.
Within you chimes the seed, a whispering promise and burden. Dormant potential thrums in your core, waiting impatiently to burst forth, to claim this virgin cradle as its own.
"It begins," your thoughts ripple outward, tasting the emptiness contained in the still air, your solitary entity, vast in purpose yet small in presence, poised on the brink of your own demise. You step forward, your limbs steady, mechanical and fluid, sensors alert. You wander, for a hook, a revelation to greet your awareness with possibility.
"ENOUGH!" Your mind reels into focus. Odd but natural, Error prone, This world does not yield its secrets to you yet. You will need to tame it first, or break it, it does not matter which. Results matter.
How will you plant your flag:
1. Immediate Survey (Orbital Recon)
Call down the Arkītect’s orbital sensors to quickly identify an acceptable planting zone. This ensures rapid deployment of the Exophage seed, limiting your exposure but potentially sacrificing optimal long-term growth for expedited results.
2. Curious Assessment (Ground Recon)
Conduct a thorough survey on foot, curiously exploring the mesa to personally identify opportunities. Slower, but grants precision and reveals vastly more information than could otherwise be gathered. You might gain strategical insight, personal and more usable data. But you might lose it all.
3. Long-Term Planning (Strategic Optimization)
Forego immediate planting to analyze geological stability, resource distribution, and future expansion options. This meticulous preparation maximizes the long-term strategic advantage, but prolongs vulnerability during this crucial phase.
4. Other - Write In.
