Four Painful Years

Just run away.

>RUN TO THE FORKLIFTERS.
>IF THE MAN ISN'T GOING FOR GOOD. HE'S GOING FOR BAD.
>Run over him!

Quietly make a nyoom sound while doing this. Quietly. In your head, even.

Ringa ringa roses.
A pocketful of posies.
A-bango. A-bango.
All drop down.

>Luca: Reveal a few thousand of your power levels. Just enough to deal with this old-timer.

Ask your friends for help.

Just run away.

>RUN TO THE FORKLIFT

LUCA: “Run.”

JULIE: “B-but what about…?”

LUCA: “We’re fine. Run.”

You duck out of the impending danger and bolt towards the back door. It proves incredibly difficult to not turn back. Leaving everyone behind like that… It feels so wrong. Skidding to a halt, you make it to the door and reach for the handle.

… No. You can’t. This is your fight to lose. You don’t care how “fine” they’ll be, allowing anyone to get hurt in your stead is a despicable thing to do. You have to help them. But how? You’re not big and strong like Mustafa. You’re tough, but not as tough as Luca. You’re not as fast as Trent or as keen as Maxwell...

You look to your left. Parked in the charging station are Panzer and Janice, your beat-up metal babies. An idea brews. It’s not a good idea, it is in fact a terrible idea, but at this point you don’t really have a choice.

You abandon the back door in favor of Janice, the faster of the two. Once inside you gun the lever and drive like crazy. Hopefully you can get back before something terrible happens to your friends. Sure, it’s four against one, but... the man’s a monster. What if he overpowers them while you’re gone?

What if they can’t handle it?

>Luca: Reveal a few thousand of your power levels. Just enough to deal with this old-timer.

You round the corner. From what you can see through your watery eyes, everyone’s still alive.

The impact is going to be a doozy. Due to the safety measures on your average lift vehicle, you will have to keep your foot on the pedal right up to the last moment, or the breaks will engage and the forklift will stop immediately. You might’ve been able to weigh it down with something had you the time to go looking. Too late now. With any luck, the sheer force of meeting the wall won’t kill you. It’ll just knock you out and free you from this god awful headache.

A gun didn’t do the job. Let’s see how the bastard holds up under four-and-a-half-tons of thirty-mile-an-hour iron justice.

>Say one damn cool phrase before the men is fucked up by the IRON JUSTICE
>don't die

Julie: Punctuate the discovery of this new reality with vehicular homicide.

Grosvenor Storage, Warehouse & OffWorld Freight Team: It's time to punch out.

Punch the homicidal maniac of questionable ability to be injured in the face with over 100 times the force of humanity's most powerful punches, not including yours.

Fork him with your forklift!

Consider waiting a second to adjust your sight to be able to aim better, lest you forklift one of your friends

>Head: Propel the forklift in a somewhat more unconventional manner

Consider waiting a second to adjust your sight to be able to aim better, lest you forklift one of your friends

You can barely see anything beyond the veil of water clouding your eyes. You blink away the blurriness and focus on aiming your forks squarely at...

!!!

Show Content

Spoiler

In an instant, your ears are boxed by the loudest noise you've ever heard, a sharp pain rattles through your chest, and the entire world goes black.



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Achievement Unlocked: "Stand Your Ground" - Came back to fight for your friends. (200In)

>Regain consciousness some time later

>Awaken.

>Wake the heck up! Don't you know how dangerous it is to fall asleep on the wheel!?

>Be greeted by a familiar familial face. Or at least, one that will be more familiar once you can see straight.

>Awaken.

MAXWELL: “...ie!”





MAXWELL: “Julie!”





TRENT: “She’s conscious. Not for long, though.”
TRENT: “Multiple broken ribs. One’s gone through her skin. The other just missed her lung.”

LUCA: “Going that fast I’m surprised she’s not dead. This is what happens when you try to play hero.”

TRENT: “Hey, she made a hard fight easier, alright? That guy was on so much juice it would’ve taken a solid hour to lay him out. Even for you.”
TRENT: “Either way, the pain’s probably going to put her under again soon. It’s for the best.”

MUSTAFA: “You must be in such agony… Thank you, Julie. You are a true friend.”

LUCA: “Uh, did you forget that she's the one who led him to us?"

MAXWELL: “An ambulance is on its way, Jules. You’re going to be fine... They’re gonna fix you, promise.”
MAXWELL: “Hang in there, okay?”

Beyond the searing pain, you feel a pair of lips touch your forehead.









MAXWELL: “You are one crazy chick...”

>Regain consciousness some time later

You think you’re gonna hurl.

When you open your eyes the entire room swirls like a vortex. Colors bloom and desaturate at random, and an annoying voice keeps nagging you take out the trash, said trash being the contents of your stomach. Luckily for you, your stomach has no contents. You and your stomach reach a compromise, and you dry heave for ten whole minutes.

It seems you’ve been taken to the hospital. Great. Part of you was hoping you’d go out in a blaze of glory so you wouldn’t have to deal with this part. You can always tell which doctors have seen your medical records and which ones haven’t yet bothered. The ones that have always treat you like a friggin’ child.

The sterile environment comforts you a little. You were always in and out of the hospital as a child, so you’ve naturally come to associate minty greens and the smell of antiseptic with the effects of your medication. Actually, you feel pretty great, considering. You did break your ribs after all… though you’re not sure how you know that.

Your phone is on the table beside your bed. There’s a web of cracks all over the screen. Just perfect. According to the clock, you’ve been out for two days. Forty-eight hours wasted.

Peering out the window past your IV stand, you idly search for any flying landmasses or weird birds. Nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe… Maybe none of that happened. Well, your neighbor brutally assaulting you in the pharmacy and following you to the warehouse where you murdered him using company equipment probably actually happened, you have the injuries to prove it. But maybe all the other weird stuff was just… a hallucination.

Whatever… At least the bastard got what he deserved.

…

You didn’t really have to kill him… did you?

...Did you manage to kill him though?

What if he's still alive? What if he escaped?

>Look and see if any of your coworkers are with you.

That sensation you're feeling? That's what being a winner feels like.

Now, call for a nurse so you can demand they give you some victory pudding. You are probably not going to eat said pudding, but you deserve something for being a bad ass besides your broken ribs.

Okay well first, there's a distinct possibility he's not dead.
Secondly, it's not like you should feel bad. That was complete self defense. Also let's be real that guy was like immortal or something since he survived a HEADSHOT.

That cleared out, try to check your phone for messages? Calls? Anything at all?

>Try to pick the phone and talk with them. At least your arms aren't broken!
>If it was a allucination, your ribs would be intact.

...Did you manage to kill him though?
What if he's still alive? What if he escaped?

That's a very good point... It might be time to pack up and move again, just for safety's sake. Forget needing a reason. He could just drop in while you're asleep and finish you off out of spite at this point.

For some reason, the thought of your neighbor surviving makes a part of you feel bizarrely relieved. It's a small part of you, and it's a part of you you hate, but it's there. Sure, in the moment it was either you, him, or one of your friends, but... What if there was another way?

Ultimately, you just hope he leaves you alone.

>Look and see if any of your coworkers are with you.

>Try to pick up the phone and talk with your friends.

Luca's jacket is slung over the back of a chair. Other than that, there's no sign of them.

Hold on... Luca? Nah. She probably just left it here when she was with the others. There's no way she'd drop by on her own... Speaking of the others, you should give them a call.



MAXWELL'S VOICEMAIL: "You've reached the voicemail of Maxwell Pagonis. Sorry I couldn't get to the phone in time, but if you leave your name and number, I'll get back to you as soon as possible, thanks. PS, Julie, if it's you calling, get better soon! Hearts!"
*BEEP*

You can't help but smile. He's such a sweetheart.

TRENT'S VOICEMAIL: "I'm glad you called, but I'm not home, but I'll be back before too long! You gotta speak your style, and your number too, and this is all you got to do! Wait for the beep! You gotta leave your name, gotta leave your number! Wait for the beep! You better leave it at the beep!"
*BEEP*

You still can't decide if it's too corny for words or the most amazing thing you've ever heard.

MUSTAFA'S VOICEMAIL: "*eight seconds of wind blowing into the receiver* I am Mustafa... Johnson. Please leave a message. *three seconds of more wind* Thank you."
*BEEP*

Yeesh. Sounds like you'll need to teach Moose how to record a proper message.

... Sigh. You guess you'll phone Luca. Much to your surprise, Luca's phone goes off in her jacket pocket. There's no way she'd leave that at the hospital. She must still be around... for some reason.

LUCA'S VOICEMAIL: "Hey, it's Luqashai. You know what to do."
*BEEP*

Man, even her voicemail gets all assertive on you... Wait, her name is Luqashai???

Oh well, you tried. You kill some time reading through the well-wishing texts everyone sent you. Well, everyone but "Luqashai". All she sent was a generic thumbs-up emote. Better than nothing, you guess.

That sensation you're feeling? That's what being a winner feels like.

Now, call for a nurse so you can demand they give you some victory pudding. You are probably not going to eat said pudding, but you deserve something for being a bad ass besides your broken ribs.

... Yeah. Yeah!

YEAH!

You punch the nurse call button on your bed remote. A hot guy nurse responds to your request, and a little while later you receive a wiggly flan. You devour the wiggly flan. It tastes like success.

Your vitals soar. You are such a badass.


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Achievement Unlocked: "Pudding" - Pudding happened. (5In)

> Get the hot guy nurse's number. Keep the victory momentum going! Also try asking him how your situation is and when you can get out. Your literally dying more and more every day, you got no time to waste at the hospital for a mere flesh wound!