NAME TAG

The name tag on the mannequin reads WELCOME TO SONNET CITY! MY NAME IS followed by a circle of black scribbles made with permanent marker, blacking out what her name really is. The question: if this mannequin has a name, who named her? [[I don't know. I don't even know who I am.]] [[Probably the higher-ups.]] [[What the hell is going on here?]]

That's not really relevant right now, though, is it? The reality is that you're standing in front of a mannequin, a human frame enveloped in white plastic, and the mannequin is wearing a name tag. The fact that you cannot remember yourself is part of this reality, but is ultimately irrelevant. Do you understand? [["Yes," you nod, but you don't. This swirling of realities is too confusing. You don't understand anything, and you especially do not remember yourself, but obeying is the logical course of survival. Obeying = survival = eventual control.]] [["No. Of course I don't understand. Tell me what's going on."]]

Now we're getting somewhere! What do you know about these... "higher-ups?" (force-input-box: "XX=", "Not much, but there are always higher-ups. In every aspect of everything lies a hierarchy. I have been too jaded to believe otherwise.") [[Submit]]

Ugh, do I have to repeat myself? I just TOLD YOU! Fine, let's do this again. You're just standing there. The room is entirely dark, and the mannequin is a blinding white. You don't feel her watching you---this isn't some kind of horror movie, silly goose. Instead you feel some sort of desperate force emanating from her, as if none of this is supposed to exist at all. She is wearing a name tag, but everything feels so vague here---names might be pointless, or names might be just as powerful here as everywhere else. Is there any way to tell? Does that really matter right now? Let's keep going. She is wearing a name tag. Who do you think named her? [[Probably the higher-ups.]]

Good. Now, tell me... Who do you think named the mannequin? [[Probably the higher-ups.]] [[I have no clue.]]

I ASKED YOU A QUESTION. Who do you think named the mannequin? [[Probably the higher-ups.]]

You have to think! [[Do you already know the answer, or something?]]

Ah, very interesting. So you truly do believe that someone has to exist above us? Do you really think that you're just one piece in a constantly shifting inner universe, a personal ecosystem that you're just another contributor to? Don't you want to think you're special? [[Do you already know the answer, or something?]]

Maybe. Admittedly, I'm not entirely sure myself. But I have a few suspicions.... Would you like to hear about them?! [[A chair materializes in the nothingness behind you. You take a seat, because what else are you going to do?]] [[No. You're going to run, because of course you are; what else is there to do?]]

The voice is still disembodied, bursting in from every direction. ...You really think I'm disembodied? That's cute. You're wrong, but also right, in a way. Let's take it very very slow. We'll get there eventually. Sure, my voice bursts in from every direction. Keep going. Come on. I know you can do it. Describe me. (force-input-box: "XX=", "There is nothing to describe. I am in a place that is completely dark, but I can see everything. In front of me, there is a mannequin. I do not know what exists behind me, and I do not know what exists forwards. There is a voice speaking to me with sarcasm, and it sounds a lot like the voice in my head when things are silent enough for me to think, but that's a bit too personal.") [[I thought you were going to tell me about your suspicions. You know, the 'higher-ups'?]]

[[Ah, says the voice, well, that's disappointing.->"No. Of course I don't understand. Tell me what's going on."]]

So you've got a working short-term memory. Fascinating. Kind of a rarity around here, these days. Okay, fine. We're stuck here together anyway, so I might as well use you. [[What do you mean we're---]]

(text-rotate-y:21)+(text-rotate-z:18)[SHUT UP.] (text-rotate-y:21)+(text-rotate-z:33)[SHUT THE FUCK UP.] (text-rotate-x:57)+(text-rotate-y:21)+(text-rotate-z:33)[SHUT UP!!] Anyway. My suspicion is that the higher-ups are "above" us somehow, working behind the curtains, controlling who surfaces and who stays within the city, in the cryo cells, and in the deepest layers. They control everything based on what they think is right. They're pocketed away in the treetops. The heavens. ...But that's only suspicion, of course. I've been formulating this theory for about eighteen years. [[What are the higher-ups, exactly?]]

You sigh, crossing your legs beneath you. Are they some sort of creature, some sort of divinity? Or are they just like us, and what are we? Getting comfortable, hm? Go ahead, kick back and relax. A footstool manifests, the color of void. You rest your legs on it - indeed it is relaxing. The sensation of relaxation grates against you; you're fighting everything stirring inside of you to remain paranoid. Don't worry. They're always scared at first. Some... more than others. But you've got to let go. Whatever, you scoff. You didn't answer my question. Sorry. [[DO NOT APOLOGIZE, roars a different, deeper voice from the Somewhere Else. The "ground" trembles beneath you.]]

What the hell? Don't worry about it. He's right, you know. For now, I'm the one in charge. I have more experience than you do - I make the rules. What do you mean "experience"? You'll learn in time. What the hell are those things? I don't know. I think some are human, but the deeper you go, the more monstrous they get. Does that mean the higher-ups are some kind of higher being? What do you mean? Whatever the opposite of monstrous is. You mean like holy? I hadn't considered that. [[Well, maybe you just needed a second opinion.]] [[I don't think anything here could be holy. There's just a nothingness.]]

Don't get familiar with me. We don't know each other. I don't know you, and you don't know me, and most importantly, you don't know you. Shove it. ... [[Can I tell you a secret, though?]]

Maybe so. Maybe to you this is a nothingness, but this nothingness is my home. I was crafted here and to here I will return. They don't let me into the city. [[Can I tell you a secret, though?]]

I don't think I have much of a choice, so sure. Go on. You don't! Thank you for recognizing that. So what is your Big Secret, anyway? My big secret? It's not a secret at all. Everyone learns it eventually---it is your turn now. This is only the landing place. The landing place? We're called the City for a reason, my dear. [[A door slams open behind you. You turn to look - it's built like an elevator.]]

You... [[Walk into the elevator. There's no other way out; you might as well explore.]] [[Stay put. You're not going anywhere.]]

You enter. Inside the elevator, there are about thirty buttons. Most of them aren't labelled, but there are five labelled buttons: THE SEA, THE COURTYARD, something called the "INFINITE WAREHOUSE", THE HOUSE, and LEVEL ZERO. The buttons are blank, it explains, for a reason. You're not allowed in those memories yet. You have to earn them. Where should we go? Pick anything except level zero. You... I don't know why they gave you that one. It must have been a mistake. Pick one: [[THE SEA]] [[THE COURTYARD]] [[THE INFINITE WAREHOUSE]] [[THE HOUSE]] [[LEVEL ZERO, DUH]]

Oh, you think you're so smart, huh? Keep in mind that I make the rules. [[At the pace of a blink, restraints grow over your body, mechanical vines tangled over you to keep you in place. Frozen in time, static.]]

The room begins (text-rotate-y:21)+(text-rotate-z:33)[S] (text-rotate-y:21)+(text-rotate-z:38)[P] (text-rotate-y:21)+(text-rotate-z:290)[INN] (text-rotate-y:21)+(text-rotate-z:203)[ING], A THOUSAND MIRRORS REFLECTED ON THE WALLS, BUT WHEN YOU SEE YOURSELF YOU ARE NOT YOURSELF, YOU ARE A HUMANSHAPED BLACK HOLE, AN ENTRANCE THAT FOLDS IN AND IN AND IN. DEPICTED IN THE SHAPE OF YOU LIKE A TELEVISION SCREEN: EVERY HORROR THAT A CHILD COULD POSSIBLY ENDURE, WITH TWO BOWS IN HER HAIR EVERY HORROR THAT CAN BE ENDURED [[EVERY HORROR]]

You're starting to feel a bit nauseous. Of course you are. I'm torturing you. Do you want to keep going, or are you going to enter the elevator already so we can get the fuck out of here? ... Pardon my language. [[Fine.->Walk into the elevator. There's no other way out; you might as well explore.]] [[I'm not going anywhere.]]

Don't force me to keep going. [[You can't make me move.]]

The room inverts, and you fall from what is now the ceiling, still restrained and immovable. Look to your left. Your head turns as if possessed by some higher force -- the higher-ups? -- is this narrator-- and to your left you see a girl on a second story balcony. She's young, and blonde, and about six whole years old. Tall for her age. She gazes over the balcony from a stepping stool, and in her mind you hear it amplified in a voice with harrowing youth: I WISH IT WAS THIS EASY. I WISH IT WAS OVER. The girl is playing with toy cars. She throws one over the edge; it falls and shatters. She turns to you, and in her eyes there is a sadness so consuming that being exposed to it directly, like sunlight, will damage you permanently. You will never be the same; no child should go through this--- In agonizing writhes, you experience her pain as your own. She throws a doll off the balcony, barely tall enough to reach the edge without help, hears it plop violently onto the ground. A blade stabs you in the stomach, the pain unbearable---you feel yourself trickle out onto the floor, the girl only crying and running back into her house. You cannot scream for help. The ache pulsates in small waves of suffering, pushing the horrors in and out of you as your soul gushes onto the floor, bared for all to see. [[Make it stop. Please, make it stop.->Walk into the elevator. There's no other way out; you might as well explore.]]

(set: $thesea to false)(set: $thecourtyard to false)(set: $levelzero to false)(set: $warehouse to false)(set: $thehouse to false) Trigger warnings: gore, violence, unreality, implied child abuse, suicide mentions A fun tip: visit every floor; on the last available floor then complete the naming ceremony! [[BEGIN GAME->Untitled Passage]]

(set: $thesea to true) The elevator opens, and water flows in, forcing you into the throes. It's exactly what it sounds like - it is the sea. Fish swim all around you. You reach out to grab a fish, examine it -- instead of color it bears the overlay of a family photo. An image of a young child in a halloween costume---a fairy. So young, so young. The fish struggles to get away, and you have to let it go. You can't hold onto this anymore. All of the marine life bears the image of a memory. A sea turtle swims past, and on its shell you see the image of a playground -- a short-haired teenager being pushed on swings she is much too big for now. Another hollowing scene, this time in the transparency of a jellyfish: the same person, with the computer screen open, only slightly older, talking to an older best friend who wants more than she could ever safely give. And there is a light above you. Your consciousness is beginning to fade, and you don't know what will happen if you fade out. [[You swim to the light.]]

(set: $thecourtyard to true) The elevator takes you to the courtyard at a nearly impossible speed; in fact, it slams you into the walls as it moves without any regard to your form. Sorry. It's this fast for everyone. You get used to it. Now you're the one getting overly familiar. [[Very funny.]]

(set: $warehouse to true) The elevator takes you to the warehouse at a nearly impossible speed; in fact, it slams you into the walls as it moves without any regard to your form. Sorry. It's this fast for everyone. You get used to it. Now you're the one getting overly familiar. [[Sure, sure.]]

(set: $thehouse to true) The elevator takes you to the House at a nearly impossible speed; in fact, it slams you into the walls as it moves without any regard to your form. Sorry. It's this fast for everyone. You get used to it. [[Now you're the one getting overly familiar.]]

(set: $levelzero to true) The elevator takes you to level zero at a nearly impossible speed; in fact, it slams you into the walls as it moves without any regard to your form. Sorry. It's this fast for everyone. You get used to it. Now you're the one getting overly familiar. [[Hey, wait... You shouldn't have done that.]]

The voice actually cracks a bit, as if it hadn't expected you to press the button. Of course you were going to press the button. You've got me there. I should've seen that one coming. You gave me a temptation, and I am clearly not strong enough to withstand it. [["Sounds like you're one of the religious guilt holders," the voice says with a laugh.]]

What does that mean? Don't worry about it. I know Jemma's filing that away as we speak. You never told me who named the mannequin, anyway. That won't matter when we get to level zero. I mean, you seriously shouldn't have done that. You're not ready for what's down there. [[Try me.]]

The elevator finally stops, and the doors are hauled open. Inside there is only a dim light, and dust, and walls of cement brick all around. The ceiling is a bit low; you have to duck to make it through safely. What's so bad about this place? Cover your ears. You obey the voice - this time it is not because you are forced to, but because you trust it here. For some reason you have to trust it. [[But it doesn't entirely block out the wailing.]]

Don't listen to it, just don't listen. Turn your mind off and go back to elevator. It sounds like a child screaming. What can I call you? You can call me Nyx. Why does that matter? [[Because fuck you, Nyx.]]

Oh, very clever. I'm not responsible for what happens to you, going forward. You've already tortured me enough. What more could you possibly want? You move toward the sound of intermittent crying and screaming, cycling on loop. Your body begins to shake like a quaking earth as you walk, the lights growing increasingly dim. You're starting to think the voice is right - perhaps you truly cannot handle it. [["Hello? Have you come to see me?"]]

You don't know yourself. You didn't show up in that mirror for a reason. You don't have an appearance; you are merely a floating concept with a barely-formed "humanoid" body. But you recognize the creature in front of you -- it is too familiar. That's you, genius. Oh. You suppose that makes sense, but if you give it any thought it doesn't make sense at all. Sure, this is you. This is "YOU". But how can it be you, if you are merely a construct? How do you know you're merely a construct? Who told you that? [[Huh? No one.]]

"Don't pay any mind to Nyx," says the Not-You. "I want you to come to my book signing." When is it? Don't--- "Whenever I get out of here," she says. Her hair is long, and blinding-blonde, and her voice is higher than yours. How is this you? "I just know it'll be soon!" [["Who's doing this? Who's keeping you here?]] [[I can help you. I can get you out of here.]]

"I am," she says. "I know I'm doing this to myself but I just can't help it." How can you do this to yourself? Just say no. Just let go. It's that simple. [[Ah, you really are new here.]]

"I'm happy here," she explains, but she holds her arms up; her left arm has a chain wrapped around it that connects to a wall behind her. "I have my friends that I talk to on the Inner Verse. And the dreamer machine can make any food I want out of thin air." "You don't want to be free?" A tear falls from her eye, and she closes her eyes tight to force herself shut. "I didn't say that," she says. "I didn't say that at all. I didn't---" Now she's wailing again. [[A blade-like divider falls from the sky, separating you from the Not-You. She turns away.]]

We should get out of here. We really should go now, or the walls will start--- [[The walls begin to close, shoving you closer to the blade, closer to what could never be you.]]

Let's get out of here. Come on! [[You rush back to the elevator.]] [[No. I want a name.->NAMING CEREMONY]]

(unless: (visited:"THE SEA"))[[THE SEA]] (unless: (visited:"THE COURTYARD"))[[THE COURTYARD]] (unless: (visited: "THE INFINITE WAREHOUSE"))[[THE INFINITE WAREHOUSE]] (unless: (visited: "THE HOUSE"))[[THE HOUSE]] (unless: (visited:"LEVEL ZERO, DUH"))[[LEVEL ZERO, DUH]] [[RESTART->Walk into the elevator. There's no other way out; you might as well explore.]]

Would everyone stop saying that? I may be new here, but my voice has value. Look at you, standing up for yourself. I can tell you will be useful. [["Look..."->I can help you. I can get you out of here.]]

Very funny. The elevator opens, and oh: a mansion, filled entirely with white. It's a deep contrast from the room you began in. It's a house, filled with fancy sculptures, immeasurably beautiful wall art, marble counters... Go on. They're waiting to meet you. [[You walk in.]]

There's a soft tune being played in the distance -- as you walk closer, you see a grand piano. Hello? The sound stops, and someone stands up from behind the piano -- short, hair fiery and fire-truck red, unkempt, with pronounced dark makeup over his pale face. "I'm Zeph," he says, extending a gloved hand. You look down, and now your hand is real -- you have a pink bracelet on. "What's your name?" [[I don't know.]]

He laughs. "Yeah," he says. "I get that. You'll find one eventually." You pause, biting down against the flesh inside your mouth. It feels as painful as it would if this body belonged to you. "This body belongs to all of us," interjects Zeph. [["How did you..."]]

Zeph gives a sad, sad laugh. "I'm the only one around to explain it to you," he sighs. "Of course they'd do this to me." Explain what? His gaze darts away, now studying a nude sculpture of an angel that rests near the staircase. "This... none of this... is what you think it is." [[What does that even mean?]]

He shakes his head. "Surely you've noticed that a few things here are... off." Yeah, understatement of the century. His hands fold in front of him, still shifting nervously. His black clothing is drastic against the white of the house. "We're all part of a whole," he explains. "We all have a purpose here... I'm here to help you find yours." Purpose? You're being so vague. [["Do you promise to take me seriously?"]]

No, I can't promise that, but I'll hear you out. "Good enough." A sharp inhale. "We're inside of something greater than ourselves. A collective consciousness. You, my friend, are a newer fragment of our consciousness." [[What is a "collective consciousness"?]]

"I can take you to the surface if you'd like," he says. "To show you." [[I'd like that. Finally, someone wants to help me figure out what's going on around here.]] (I resent that. I was helping!) [[No, thanks.->You rush back to the elevator.]]

Zeph guides you back to the elevator, and this time it has grown, inexplicably, to be big enough for two. In this realm, you are much taller than Zeph is, now that you have a real body. He presses the button that says THE SEA. "We have to swim to the surface, and then... we'll be at the surface." "Oh," you tell him. "I can't swim." "I'll carry you," he says. [["How long can you hold your breath?"]]

You feel weightless as Zeph drags you to the surface. It takes too long --- you're not sure what happens here or if you can even drown in this sea, but you can feel your own fragment of consciousness (whatever the hell that means) darken and fade as you move closer to the light... Closer, and closer. Closer. [[C L O S E R.]]

You open your eyes, and exhale, and your eyelids flutter, adjusting to the light, and the colors of the room are intolerable, and the buzz of the noises and chatter all around you is intolerable, and the ticking of the wall clock is intolerable, and the sensation of your fuzzy sweater against your very tangible skin is intolerable, and--- "Your name is Elizabeth," says Zeph's voice from a crevice in the mind. "Out here, at least." What is this? "This is the surface," Zeph explains. Your eyes adjust further---you are in a classroom, and there is an eccentric professor rambling on and on about archaeology. You look down -- there is a necklace, wrapped around your neck like a noose, with a ring on it, and touching it is like putting pressure on a deep wound you cannot decipher the cause of. "Elizabeth, are you listening?" asks the professor - only now do you realize that all eyes in the crowded classroom are pouring directly into you. You haven't been listening to a single thing besides your own brain. "Oops," Zeph says. "Bad time, I guess." [[Immeasurably fast, you are yanked back to the entrance of the House.]]

You blink---between your blinks there is no darkness, only static. Zeph stands in front of you, his hand over your shoulder. It isn't reassuring. What was that? "The surface." I didn't know anything that was going on. I had no clue. "That's because Erica is usually in charge for school." Oh. Who's Erica? [[Zeph smiles, and shakes his head. He points back to the elevator.]]

"I think you're ready for it now," Zeph says, placing both hands over your shoulders. It's becoming reassuring. He looks at you with deep approval. "For what?" "The naming ceremony," he says. "Go to the elevator." [[Okay. You go to the elevator.]] [[No thanks!->You rush back to the elevator.]]

The elevator takes you up, up, up. For a moment you think you are being taken to "the Higher Ups" - it just keeps speeding up, up, up, increasing pace. It's too fast. It stops, jarring you. You're so dizzy now... [[and you're also right back at the beginning.->NAMING CEREMONY]]

You swim to the light, and your consciousness fades. You open your eyes, and exhale, and you're in the passenger's seat of a car driving home. Your father is yelling at you to shut the hell up, and your head hurts intolerably, and your entire body aches intolerably, and your entire soul is simply intolerable. "Oops," the voice says. "Bad time, I guess." [[What...->Untitled Passage 2]]

Your eyes open, and you are free from the surface. The elevator opens, and oh: a mansion, filled entirely with white. It's a deep contrast from the room you began in. It's a house, filled with fancy sculptures, immeasurably beautiful wall art, marble counters... Go on. They're waiting to meet you. That was the surface, by the way. Hope you liked it. [[You walk in..]]

There's a soft tune being played in the distance -- upbeat childish pop music. Hello? The sound stops, and someone stands up from behind a sage-green sofa -- long, fiery orange hair in two braids, dressed all in rainbow. She can't be older than 17. "Hey! I'm Ginger," she says. She laughs and laughs, then holds her palms up in jazz hands. "What's yoooour name?" [[I don't know..]]

"Oh!" she says. "Oh, you're really new, huh!" Yeah. She takes your hands, jumps up with you in the air. "This is so exciting!" Real exciting to be in a place I don't know, with people I don't know, when I don't even know myself. [["I know it's hard," Ginger says, putting her arm around you, too touchy, "but we're here for you."]]

(unless: (visited: "THE SEA"))[[THE SEA]] [[THE COURTYARD]] [[THE INFINITE WAREHOUSE]] [[THE HOUSE]] [[LEVEL ZERO, DUH]]

The elevator opens, and you find peace. When you walk into the courtyard, it is instantly calming. The skies above have clouds that are constantly shifting into different shapes -- a bird, now a galaxy, a horse. The trees are a vivid green and bear many different fruits ready for the perfect harvest. The air is warm, fresh, replenishing. You close your eyes, inhale, and the voice goes away. [[Momentarily.]]

A hand rests on your shoulder. It is startling, but you have been drained of the capability to worry. Your eyes open, and you look behind you -- a girl, no older than sixteen, with white hair and white eyes. She smiles at you. "I'm so glad you're here!" [[Who are you?]]

"I'm Crystal!" Okay, Crystal. What is this place? She holds out her hand and leads you to two benches, conveniently across from one another. You sit on one, and she sits on the other, perfect parallel. Unity. "This is where we go when it's all stressful," she says. "So, like, I'm not surprised you ended up here, being new and all." [[That still doesn't really explain it.]]

"I know! It's so weird, actually, being a person without being a person." She giggles, as if she knows a secret. "But, like, you get used to it." I don't know if I'll ever get used to it. "That's what I thought when I first developed. I was, you know, SO scared. But I found my home here eventually." [[Everyone keeps saying that.]]

"You know what I think might help?" she asks. "Have you given yourself a name yet?" No. I don't know if I want to. [["Try it. Go back to the elevator."->Okay. You go to the elevator.]] [[No, thanks.->You rush back to the elevator.]]

The mannequin is in front of you, and the room is still dark, but the room is bright now. The room is so bright---only the walls are dark. The mannequin's nametag is no longer scribbled out. Instead, it is blank. With an an arm adorned in pink bracelets, her hand holds a single permanent marker. What will you name yourself? (input-box:"XXX=", 5) [[SUBMIT->The End.]]

Thank you for playing! [[RESTART->Untitled Passage]]

The doors open, and you are taken to a department store. No windows, no doors, only gray, with orange shelves stacked with various products. You inspect one product stocked beneath the shelves. It reads: "REAL HALLOWEEN CANDY: For the good halloweens! The ones that you don't spend crying because the other kids threw cat vomit all over your costume!" and contains several colors and flavors of candy corn. Weird. [[You keep walking.]]

You walk, and walk, and walk, passing various products. Blue toddler dresses, tissues for crying, stain removers. All the romantic jewelry engraved with UNTIL THEY INEVITABLY LEAVE YOU. Eventually, you find a shelving structure without shelves---instead, there is a bunk bed. An older man with dark hair and pointed inhuman ears reclines on the bottom bunk, asleep with a book over his face. He jumps when you approach, falling out of his bed. Standing, he gives a sheepish nod. "You, uh, must be the new one." Yeah, I guess. What is this place? "This is the infinite warehouse," he replies. "It's our main hub." "Why does it look like a store?" [[He smiles a smile that somehow you know well - a smile that barely masks a boundless pain.]]

"Because sometimes life is very transactional," he says, words weak. "Anyway... I'm Rex. Who are you?" I don't have a name. "Ah, you should really get one." [[Why, though?]]

He shrugs. "Because you need one. Because we're all people." He picks up his book and closes it, setting it on the top bunk. "You're just like the rest of us, you know. It's not that bad." Maybe I don't want to be like the rest of you. "I understand." [[There's a period of awkward, awkward silence.]]

"Do you plan on living here?" he asks. I don't think I have a choice. "I mean, here here," Rex continues, "in the warehouse. Most of us in the upper layers reside here." The upper layers? "The deeper you go into Liz, the darker things get," he explains. "That's why so many elevator buttons are grayed out. There are just some things we're not supposed to see." [[Oh. I guess I'll be living here, then. Do you have any units available for rent?]]

"The warehouse will generate a space just for you, so don't worry," he says. "But you need a name first. Why don't you go pick one?" He points to the elevator, expects too much of you. [[Why not?->Okay. You go to the elevator.]] [[No thanks.->You rush back to the elevator.]]

Uh-huh. "We really are," she says. "We work together around here. We all have our own dynamics, but ultimately we're just here to be a collective. It's pretty cool!" Maybe I don't want to be a collective. ... [[Or maybe I do. I haven't decided yet.]]

"Well," she says. "You look like a Jasmine to me. I suggest Jasmine, just so you know, that's my vote." "Hm?" "You gotta pick a name eventually!" When Ginger smiles, her braces beam rainbow in every direction. [[Go on!->Okay. You go to the elevator.]] [[No thanks.->You rush back to the elevator.]]