Direction

Hello, we seem to be lost. Very, very lost, we might even be dead. It would certainly explain a lot. But perhaps I should introduce myself. I am a guide of sorts, you may call me Direction. I think I can return us to life, but I'm going to need your help. You see I can point you on the right path, but you are going to have to actually walk it. There are things I can't quite perceive, ideas that have yet resolved themselves before my eyes. You are going to have to tell me what you see. Act as my senses where my own fail me. But we have to hurry, we must begin now. Your memory is vanishing as we speak, there is nothing we can do, this cannot be stopped. However, if you focus, you can grasp one aspect of your being, one trait you value most. Hold it close and hold it tight, tell me what it is, tell me what defines you.

Hatred.

milkshake.

Dogecoin.

Power.

Of course your defining trait is Hatred. Through hate you gain strength and power. Your enemies and friends alike fear your wrath. Your mind clears as you hold onto this identity. You find yourself surrounded by dark swirling shadows. They are thick and heavy and seem to press down around you as though they carried weight. Sight is out of the question, your vision is almost completely obscured and you can get no bearing on your surroundings.

Excellent! Hold onto that feeling. Now you are holding something I can't see. What is it?

A hand.

A throat.

You grasp a throat in a choking grasp. You cannot see its owner, but you can hear their gasps and feel their struggle. They beg you for mercy, plead for you to let you go. You tighten your grip to punish them for their insolence. Their struggle intensifies in your iron grip. "Please" they rasp. You begin to tire of this game, you wonder if you should release them or just kill them outright.

Don't do either. Hurt them until they start to make you offers instead of empty pleas.

Your grip remains firm around his neck as they squirm. "PLEASE!...I..I'll do...ANY...THING" the miserable being chokes. "Anything?" you sneer, "What makes you think you'll be any use to me?" "I...I caa...I caaan...maake..thi..." with that last pitiful expression their struggles slow. You think they may just be unconscious, though it's doubtful they will remain alive much longer if you continue throttling them. It's a shame, you had hoped to draw out their pain for longer. Of course you don't care very much, you hate this despicable creature. Though having a lackey might be handy, especially since you have little understanding of where you are, or even who you are. You ponder this for a moment before finally making your choice.

Let them live. No one should meet their death unconscious. But you don't need them. You don't need anyone.

You don't need anyone, and you just don't care enough to kill this whelp. You throw the fool away into the darkness. Now onto business...

You aren't sure what to do next.

You need to make light. Banish the shadows.

Of course, you need a light to be rid of this infernal darkness. The question is, how will you get it?

Puke it up.

You'll get it with Dogecoin

You stand there pondering for a time. And then you notice it, the tiny prick in the pit of your stomach. It slowly intensifies becoming a powerful burning sensation. The pain grows and grows, a dangerous pressure expanding in your throat. You try to hold it back, but it feels as though you are burning up from the inside. You fall to your knees, sweat beading on your forehead, pain arcing like electricity up and down your spine. You open your mouth to scream but instead a gout of fire shoots into the sky. Shadows flee from it as the pillar ascends, just to swoop back in as it dissipates. You shudder and another blast of fire leaps from your mouth spreading out over the ground. Your eyes screw shut with pain as you let loose another torrent of flame. Finally the fit subsides, you lay gasping, hardly able to move. The smell of burnt flesh overwhelms your nose and its taste fills your mouth. Every inch of your body hurts, but slowly you begin to recover. You can almost feel the burnt flesh repairing itself, shedding charred and blistered skin. before long you can stand, and you do, looking around you see a plain of sand stretching off to infinite in every direction. The grains are warm beneath your feet and glow a bright white. The darkness hovers above as though repelled by the light, a sky of endless shadow. A warm wind blows across the sands as you consider what you should do.

Eat the glowing sand!

Walk ahead.

You kneel down examining the sand closely. It is large and coarse, upon inspection you realise it is a light red color. You take a pinch and place it on your tongue. It is salty and spicy and its texture makes you want to retch. You feel a familiar burning sensation in the pit of your stomach, and breathe a pillar of flame into the sky. You wipe your mouth on your sleeve, a horrible dryness creeping over your mouth as the burnt flesh is revitalized. You spit into the sand in disgust and rise. You look out to the horizon, the heat of the sand hovering in great waves over the desert. You won't get anywhere standing around, you pick a direction and just walk. The winds blow sand in your face and eyes, your feet constantly grow blisters and cuts from the hot sand. It is a miserable experience, but you keep walking, you won't let this world beat you.

What is that? I sense something in the distance....I cannot see.

You stop for a moment at Direction's interruption, peering into the distance. There is something there, but what is it?

Former U.S. President Richard Nixon

A charming little town by the shore of some great boiling ocean

An ocean of ice.

It's a cloud of steam, rising in the distance, as you get closer the scene coalesces. You find a great lake of boiling water. A great pillar of ice rests in its center stretching up into the sky and disappearing into the shadows, billowing steam coils around it like so many snakes. They weave up and down the towering structure before combining in a great cloud where the tower meets the oppressive darkness. The sand is disturbed around this lake, as though by an constant erratic wind. As you near the lake you suddenly find yourself forcefully thrown to your back by some invisible assailant. You stand looking for some sign of who pushed you. Suddenly a blast of sand catches you in the face like a punch knocking you back to the ground. You look up noticing your attacker for the first time. You realize no wind blows around this lake. The shores are populated by hundreds of humanoid figures composed of thousands of floating grains of sand. Now that you know what to look for, you see them slowly circling around you. The one standing above you rears back to strike again, you have only moments to act or you will be hopelessly overwhelmed.

Throw a punch!

Roll away