##LOG DATABASE SEARCH##
##INPUT KEYWORD/S##
##USE * FOR PARTIAL MATCHES##
>RogueA *
##SEARCHING...##
##1 MATCH FOUND##
##READ - Y / N ?##
>Y
##DISPLAYING LOG - JAN.07.2006##
I awoke with a startle, my face feeling the scruff of the grainy carpet. I was confused, as I look around, I realized I had no knowledge of myself, nor my past, or present conditions. All I knew is for some odd reason, I was hurt. My right shoulder had a bullet wound, as well as my left leg, and I was very bruised. As I pushed myself up, I saw an old unplugged monitor. I limped over to it... and saw my reflection within the glass. I was overcome with a feeling of remorse, and then a complete rush as my memories flooded back into my mind. I fell to the ground with exhaustion, and almost passed out.
As I recollected my thoughts, I realized the damaged I had caused... my once peaceful nature was broken when I lost those damned memories. Heh, memories, who would think that a person is nothing but a collection of memories? I remembered everything from my rampage. The poor Blues that I slaughtered, the countless Reds I sent back to their Jack-in chairs, Anubis's bullets tearing through my flesh... all of it. I was overwhelmed with remorse, but I held steadfast. As I sat there, thinking over what had happened, I then realized my crew must be awfully worried about me. I was headed for the exit, when I noticed a calendar on the wall... January it read.
"Now that can't be right", I thought to myself, "It's October, isn't it?" As I walked out, a man was in the hall. I asked him the date, and he confirmed... it was indeed January. That meant I was out for **bleep** near three months... I raced to the hardline, and tried to jack out. I heard no voice on the other end, but the familiar feeling told me it was working. I closed my eyes, letting my mind re-enter my body... or so I thought.
As I re-opened my eyelids, I found myself in a loading construct. An endless white void, but unlike the others, this one had a desk with a phone on it. There was a yellow phonebook next to it as well. I picked up the phone and tried to jack out again. No luck, it failed to work its magic. Frustrated, I opened the book... inside was suprising. Instead of normal phone book entries, there were numbers for all the hardline around the city. After that, there were endless pages of codes that could be entered for items, I was confused.
I dialed up Tabor North, and found myself there almost instantly. I then decided it was best if I tried to contact someone... anyone, to let them know I was alive. The first name that came to my mind was that of my old crewmate, Zyfon. I dialed his number and waited. Finally he answered, and was befuddled to hear my voice. As I spoke to him, he started becoming indignant, insisting I was dead. I assured him I was not, but he closed the connection. I then called the next name on my list... DragnMastyr. He was a little more... calm, I could say. As he kept insisting he must be dreaming, as I was deceased and there was no way he could be speaking to me, I started to become worried. I asked him where his information came from, and he informed me that the HvCFT Omega found my escape pod about a month ago... with my corpse inside of it. I started to flip out... how in the world could I be dead?
If this is true, what am I now? Am I a ghost? A program? Is my mind trapped in my RSI? If so, what happens when my RSI dies? Only time will tell...
##END LOG##
##CONNECTION CLOSED##
##INPUT KEYWORD/S##
##USE * FOR PARTIAL MATCHES##
>RogueA *
##SEARCHING...##
##1 MATCH FOUND##
##READ - Y / N ?##
>Y
##DISPLAYING LOG - JAN.07.2006##
I awoke with a startle, my face feeling the scruff of the grainy carpet. I was confused, as I look around, I realized I had no knowledge of myself, nor my past, or present conditions. All I knew is for some odd reason, I was hurt. My right shoulder had a bullet wound, as well as my left leg, and I was very bruised. As I pushed myself up, I saw an old unplugged monitor. I limped over to it... and saw my reflection within the glass. I was overcome with a feeling of remorse, and then a complete rush as my memories flooded back into my mind. I fell to the ground with exhaustion, and almost passed out.
As I recollected my thoughts, I realized the damaged I had caused... my once peaceful nature was broken when I lost those damned memories. Heh, memories, who would think that a person is nothing but a collection of memories? I remembered everything from my rampage. The poor Blues that I slaughtered, the countless Reds I sent back to their Jack-in chairs, Anubis's bullets tearing through my flesh... all of it. I was overwhelmed with remorse, but I held steadfast. As I sat there, thinking over what had happened, I then realized my crew must be awfully worried about me. I was headed for the exit, when I noticed a calendar on the wall... January it read.
"Now that can't be right", I thought to myself, "It's October, isn't it?" As I walked out, a man was in the hall. I asked him the date, and he confirmed... it was indeed January. That meant I was out for **bleep** near three months... I raced to the hardline, and tried to jack out. I heard no voice on the other end, but the familiar feeling told me it was working. I closed my eyes, letting my mind re-enter my body... or so I thought.
As I re-opened my eyelids, I found myself in a loading construct. An endless white void, but unlike the others, this one had a desk with a phone on it. There was a yellow phonebook next to it as well. I picked up the phone and tried to jack out again. No luck, it failed to work its magic. Frustrated, I opened the book... inside was suprising. Instead of normal phone book entries, there were numbers for all the hardline around the city. After that, there were endless pages of codes that could be entered for items, I was confused.
I dialed up Tabor North, and found myself there almost instantly. I then decided it was best if I tried to contact someone... anyone, to let them know I was alive. The first name that came to my mind was that of my old crewmate, Zyfon. I dialed his number and waited. Finally he answered, and was befuddled to hear my voice. As I spoke to him, he started becoming indignant, insisting I was dead. I assured him I was not, but he closed the connection. I then called the next name on my list... DragnMastyr. He was a little more... calm, I could say. As he kept insisting he must be dreaming, as I was deceased and there was no way he could be speaking to me, I started to become worried. I asked him where his information came from, and he informed me that the HvCFT Omega found my escape pod about a month ago... with my corpse inside of it. I started to flip out... how in the world could I be dead?
If this is true, what am I now? Am I a ghost? A program? Is my mind trapped in my RSI? If so, what happens when my RSI dies? Only time will tell...
##END LOG##
##CONNECTION CLOSED##
