Dystopian near futures always seem to be cast within labyrinthine arcologies. Massive chambers the seem to contain edifices which are massive in their own right. There’s an SDF-1 quality to this place in as much as you can tell that you’re being hurtled through space. Or if not space, at least some form of infinite continuum. Lost in these massive chambers, seeking [something]. I’m not sure what though my companions seem certain that we’re headed in the right direction.
Because the lights above(?) are so far, the illumination they cast is dim and pathetic. We find ourselves relying on flashlights and these green lasers that flare out. In wandering through these halls, we locate a large green seemingly crystalline cube. One side seems to be flush with a wall, as if half of it is hanging out into another room (or into the abyss that flies by around us) but the top comes up just shy of the cieling — which is a mile above our heads and despite the dimness is clearly visible. Shining flashlights at it reveals no entrance or aperture but the moment I hit it with the laser, all sorts of possibilities become apparent. My companions press on but with a moment of cat-like curiosity, I compel myself through one of the gates.
Once inside, I discover that I cannot get back out. Each room I maneuver into seems a Myst-like puzzle. First there’s the room with shifting walls. Then a series of platforms in a room full of water that changes configuration with each step. (Prime numbers were involved with its solution though I can’t recall how now.) There were others but the last I remember was a series of thorned rooms. Out one window, I observed by companions — I shone the laser down on them to get their attention but when that didn’t work, I tried to proceed. The room of wooden thorns — with a thorned floor and a thorned throne. Then tin thorns along the floor and spiked monkey bars. Even larger thorns in the next room. Larger and larger thorns until I woke up with stabbing pains in my foot.