matizhobel
This story is written in an interactive format. Choices marked with ⚡, 🌀, or 🌏 will affect your personality and the ending. Choose wisely!
My name is 742. I know this because of the metallic tattoo on my arm. I don't know anything else."
In a world of sterile white walls and mechanical voices, I was just a unit. A data block. A prisoner of a system that decided when I slept, when I ate, and when I felt pain. But when the system updates, "units" like me are erased.
Now, the heavy steel doors are open. Outside, a world of gray fog and bone-chilling screams awaits. Between a cold, calculating scientist who sees me as an experiment and a rugged survivor with amber eyes who promises freedom-who can I trust?