Signal ran deep. ע-bRunnn-in
5th layer circuit-tomb. Deep underground, Seacrates hunting tunnel-ways on behalf of D-VI.
Ikipr sits at a console in the O.C. Dept. of Direction and oversight. He grits his teeth a little and tunes Jimmy's frequency on a series of complicated knobs and digital displays reading out ELF scans of all sectors & begins to relay an alarming IX-81 encrypted message to the head of Rodent Industries®:
"If you want to know what happened to your mask, I'd suggest asking Chuck - I imagined he wandered off to the temple of the damned we evoked him from without having come to his final revelations. Afterall, who'd know better than the agent wandering around with it down in the tunnels shortly before it went off grid...?
-I.01.t99
---
Fully-Authorized Remote Agent"
He continues by trying to commune with C.R.R.P. on pending assignments via their relay-link: (1:37:33 PM) Ikipr: You point a zombie in the direction he should be headed, but sometimes he takes forever to arrive there...slow ass zombie is fail, all mired in goo time, janky-ass rotten nerves and meat (1:47:50 PM) Ikipr: need to bend their circuits to one of the remote controls for little toy cars...
"The world is an apple." he quotes. No one is there...even the Brantley-replicant Z. had manufactured was just brain matter spooned up into a jar now, probably still dreaming.
Misadventures in the land of the lo-rez peoples
A dwarven girl with hypnotic digital-bee cartridges she programmed in machine language is carrying a gold letter "D". Mountainmen leddites with lo-fi ear augmentations eat death mushrooms in a corner near a booth hoping for some Thanatos-driven gnosis with a withering woodgrained console. Hipster flat-people with glasses wigging out to gameboy house techno beats. Op2 of M^2.D renowned scores 200 points in headshots on a McFing impersonator called "The Mysterious H" after some odd bathroom conversation about "DEEEEEEEEES!" inappropriately screamed at the guy in the next urinal. Lo-rez peoples are inherently untrustworthy if only for their lack of dimension and must be interfaced with prototypal flat-suits that leverages one into a sense of be scaled sideways across the floor, as though trapped in a sidescrolling platformer of yesteryear. Noise writhes from the snakewires pumping voltage out of ghost hardware with new code. Bring plenty of power-ups for the boss battles.
"They cause men to become forgetful of their souls and to care for that which brings no benefit." the Owl King mutters across the relay. The screen goes black and Mr. Crump now knows it's not wolves scratching at the door.