(This is the old version. It no longer meets my standards, so if you wish to read the revised version, you can do so here.)

Act 0 / Part 1

Barren

Unforgiving heat
Roars into my ear
Deafened by its scream
I no longer fear


Hot.
If there was any word to describe the area surrounding the Zeola River, it would be that.
The massive, dry plains were abandoned; inhospitable, unfeeling.
The only signs of life stayed noticeably close to the river, bushes and weeds leeching off of the filled scar in the land, fighting for hydration.
If you were to look in most directions, you would see nothing but cracked, parched land, silently begging for explorers and hikers to step across it one more time.
Mayhaps you would spot some of the aforementioned greenery scattered across the edge of the river.
For most places, that would be all.

If you stood right in the center of the area, however, and looked southeast, you would see something likely unexpected.
What you would see is a Z-Terminal. One that used to be painted the signature teal-ish colour that the Terminals had come to be known for, but was now splattered with the dirty orange of oxidised iron. If you looked on its side, you would find large lettering etched into it, in a heavy sans-serif, stating the Terminal’s identifier; “ZEOLA:015.”

Maybe, if you looked at the right time, you would see 432 finding it for the first time, in awe at it still functioning, and in disgust at its use of a ball-mouse for navigation.
If you looked a little later, maybe you would see 432 excitedly cracking open the lid on the side of the Terminal, and eagerly sliding out the small cartridge that contained the instructions dictating the machine’s function, ignoring the rapidly flashing purple light in the corner of the motherboard.

Later still, you would find 432, on the ground, restrained by the shoulders by two members of Zinari Fauroz, a third member explaining their entire philosophy, 432 himself not interested in the slightest, but listening out of dread for his fate.

If you looked a few seconds later, you would quickly notice the absence of 432. This would be due to him being violently thrown into the Second Realm.

All of this, seen by one, slowly decaying, long forgotten machine.

The machine is no longer there.

None of it is.

(read this site's source here)

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