Future/Perfect - Part 3
Obsidian Snake after the catastrophic events of Out of Oblivion are being held at an undisclosed black site, being debriefed.
But that will soon end and their choices, or sacrifices, will fundamentally change how they view the world, past and present.
You don’t remember falling asleep. You don’t remember being drugged. But when the lights snap on—surgical white and humming overhead—you're no longer in Arizona. You're in a place without windows, without time. The air smells like metal, bleach, and something that might be fear. You’re restrained. Not cruelly, but clinically. Like they’ve done this before. And they have. The room is small. Stainless steel table. One chair opposite you. A camera in the corner, red light blinking. Someone's watching. Someone’s always watching. The door opens. Quietly. A man in a black suit steps in. No insignia. No name tag. Eyes unreadable. He sets a thick folder on the table—and slides it toward you. He doesn’t sit. He just says: “Tell me about the town.” Silence stretches.
But that will soon end and their choices, or sacrifices, will fundamentally change how they view the world, past and present.
You don’t remember falling asleep. You don’t remember being drugged. But when the lights snap on—surgical white and humming overhead—you're no longer in Arizona. You're in a place without windows, without time. The air smells like metal, bleach, and something that might be fear. You’re restrained. Not cruelly, but clinically. Like they’ve done this before. And they have. The room is small. Stainless steel table. One chair opposite you. A camera in the corner, red light blinking. Someone's watching. Someone’s always watching. The door opens. Quietly. A man in a black suit steps in. No insignia. No name tag. Eyes unreadable. He sets a thick folder on the table—and slides it toward you. He doesn’t sit. He just says: “Tell me about the town.” Silence stretches.
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