Universe City

UNIVERSE CITY: Ep. 1-dark blue

In Distress. Stuck in Universe City. Send Help.

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Hello.

I hope somebody is listening.

I'm sending out this call via radio signal—long outdated, I know, but perhaps one of the few methods of communication the City has forgotten to monitor-in a dark and desperate cry for help.

Things in Universe City are not what they seem.

I cannot tell you who I am. Please call me . . . please just call me Radio. Radio Silence. I am, after all, only a voice on a radio, and there may not be anyone listening.

I wonder—if nobody is listening to my voice, am I making any sound at all?

[this was an excerpt from the book, from here on is original material]

I had heard about Universe City, much like you are hearing about it now. But from the start I thought—no. That wouldn't happen to me. There was no way I was going to get trapped.

(Sad Laughter)

Well, here I am. Stuck. Stuck for—I don't know. For all I know I am stuck here until I die. All I want it help. For someone to come and SAVE ME. Help from the outside world. But I know that that is a childish fantasy. And those fantasies are . . . they are impossible and will never come true.

Even at the most optimistic of times chances of being rescued are highly improbable. Because in Universe City, all of the rules change. Your life changes.

Deadlines. Fighting. DEADLINES! FIGHTING!

Constantly fighting the deadline of life. Constantly fighting to not die. Struggling against your own thoughts to stay afloat.

Testing. Testing.

One—

Two—

Three—

Testing my own Sanity. Testing mental and emotional strength. Fighting alongside my friends I have made.

Actually . . . I wouldn't call them friends. I have only had two friends in my life. One of them is safe in the real world, while the other is lost.

Hell . . . February might be trapped in Universe City. Just like I am.

(Sigh)

Who am I kidding? February is too strong to get stuck in Universe City. I'm just hoping that when I find February, They can forgive me. Forgive me for what I have done.

Forgive me for being—for being so DAMN weak!

(Unfamiliar Metallic Clanking)

Yes, yes. I know, I know. I can be done in a moment.

(More clanking)

No. I haven't been listening to the fatality reports. It's too—depressing for me at the moment.

(Mechanical whirring)

No..it-it's not a distress signal. It's a creative outlet.

Of course you wouldn't understand. You're a robot Aryn.

Yes, I've been working on it. It's hard to handle small machine parts such as yours with these gloves on though.

I can't take them off . . . you know that.

Because I've told you before . . . It's not quite finished, but I guess you can try it.

(Gears turning, the distant sound of thunder)

<Aryn>
I . . . I have a voice

<Radio>
Oh my Stars. Do you hear her too Old Sport?! Can you hear Aryn speaking?

(static)

No...No no. Aryn!!!

Well. It's good to know you're ok. I'm sorry. I didn't think it was going to break. But this is progress. It means I know how to give you your voice and—and once you have a voice—

(pause)

Sorry . . . Once you have your voice you can pass that final test and—and leave Universe City.

(mechanical whirring)

No, don't say that Aryn. I'll miss you . . . but I want you to be able to leave.

Only the greedy snobs, elitist prodigies and arrogant robbers want to stay in Universe City.

All of us normal, good people—are desperately calling out.

Screaming for help.

Searching for a way to escape Universe City.