Measureless to Man
Ivan R.
airplane IFComp 2017 IFComp Game Lovecraftian walkthrough Xyzzy Awards 2017
You're on your way home from Cairo, with nothing but a rumpled suit and an apple for lunch. But the plane passes through dark air, over a fathomless sea. Past the heavens, under the deep, there are secrets hidden in the crevices of the world. Something is in you, longing to seek them out. And why not? Either way, you're doomed.
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Have you played a text adventure game like this before?
Y.
Wonderful!

Nonetheless, of course, you may find it useful to enter the ABOUT command at some point, for information specific to this game.

(Press any key to begin)
F.
White steel cuts through the silence of a cloudless sky. Above, the black abyss of space stares down, and below, the infinite sea stares up, as if waiting for a sign. So far, none has come.
About yourself
Thrum.

Thrum.

Thrum.
Inventory
A text adventure by Ivan R.

Airplane cabin (in your seat)
The plane rumbles on. You're trying to catch sleep, but it doesn't come. A man behind you is snoring, and the couple across the aisle are trying to get their baby to quiet down—without success, it seems. There's an in-flight magazine staring back at you from the seat pocket. Your bag is stashed under the seat in front of you.

There's something pointy jabbing into your rear. Most likely your wallet tumbled out of a jacket pocket.
You take wallet
Oh, it's not your wallet. It's your cosmetic mirror. Not smart to leave that lying around.

You snatch it up and stash it in your pocket.
You examine the mirror
You open up the mirror and check yourself out.

Yikes.

This was a pretty spiffy suit when you put it on in Cairo, but halfway to Boston it's a bit of a mess. The shirt is rumpled, and there's a little spot of drool from when you dozed off around takeoff.

Oh, and your eyebrow makeup is starting to rub off a little bit. You should definitely fix that.
You examine the bag
You realize, in a moment of panic, that the top flap of your bag is open. You shut it with a snap and look around—it doesn't
seem
like anybody saw inside.

A well-crafted leather bag. This thing has been with you on many adventures. It's decidedly sealed at the moment.
You open it
Not in here! It is in there.
You get up
Your seatbelt is on.
You examine the seatbelt
It buckles, it unbuckles. You got to hear all about it during takeoff, presumably.
You unbuckle the seatbelt
You hesitate. That would be disobeying the pilot's directive.
You read the magazine
You have to ask yourself: are you that desperate yet?
You look at the baby
High lung capacity, those things.
Look around
Airplane cabin (in your seat)
Yes, the plane rumbles on. The man behind you is snoring, and the baby across the aisle is still howling. An in-flight magazine in front of you does whatever the opposite of beckoning is. The little lavatory at the end of the plane appears to be vacant.
About you
This was a pretty spiffy suit when you put it on in Cairo, but halfway to Boston it's a bit of a mess. The shirt is rumpled, and there's a little spot of drool from when you dozed off around takeoff.

Oh, and your eyebrow makeup is starting to rub off a little bit. You should definitely fix that.
You unbuckle the seatbelt
Click! You unbuckle your seatbelt.
You take the bag
Taken.
You enter lavatory
You would have to get out of your seat first.
You get up
You stand up in your seat. One of the flight attendants glares at you, pursing her cherry-red lips in disapproval. Since she's standing up and handing out drinks, you figure there's nothing to worry about.

"I really have to go," you say, and feign a pained expression. She goes back to offering Sprites.
Continue
Being in the country, you couldn't not visit your grandfather. It only took a short jaunt from Cairo (first class, which for reasons of integrity condemned you to ride economy on the way back to the states—but you didn't really mind). You had let him know you were coming, but he had still seemed surprised, somehow. That you came at all, that you had wanted to come. You felt guilty. But now you were starting to wonder if there was something more to it than loneliness... Grandfather had been acting strangely, all weekend. He never left the house. He spoke in whispers, even when grandmother was out with her friends. He spoke loudly to her, just to be heard. But never with you. He seemed afraid.

And now he had sent you to get a key.

It was the outermost chamber of the place your grandfather told you about. South, a shaft of daylight shone through the arch, beckoning to you. The street. The world. Further north, a narrow tunnel that once led inside was now blocked by a heap of rubble, ancient. It looked like it had been bombed. "That was where it happened," he would say, when you asked.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a key
You examine key
An old bronze-ish key, caked in dirt. It lay heavily in your hand.
You look at the arch
A crumbling stone arch. You were half-afraid that one of the bricks would tumble onto your head.
You go south
You stood under the archway separating the dark room behind you, to the south, from the bustling marketplace outside. The sun seemed too bright against your face. People were rushing past, entreating each other for rotten apples and cell phone cases. A step southward would take you into their midst.
You examine the marketplace
People were hurrying past, doing their business. You had been too long in America; trying to understand anything but English spoken at that clip had become impossible. You knew what the general scene was, though.
You look at the sun
It glared, as if disapprovingly.
You go south
You stood surrounded by a throng of people. There was a stand selling counterfeit cell phones right next to you. The wide road continued east and west, filled with stalls. A gap between two buildings caught your eye, to the south.
You go south
You stood in a narrow alleyway between two old buildings. They loomed from either side—gray-brown stone. The ground was wet and puddled, even though it hadn't rained. You wanted to hurry out; the alley opened onto the street to the south, blessedly empty. To the north, the sounds of the bazaar wafted in.
Go south
On the east end of this bumpy, crooked avenue stood your grandparents' house. It seemed to loom, almost chillingly. Absurd, of course; this was a warm place, and it had been your home before. But you couldn't shake the feeling that something terrible was waiting.
You examine the house
Old, falling-apart. You didn't much like the way your grandparents chose to live right in the middle of the city, but maybe it was just as well that they weren't driving. This place held a few fond memories for you, but today the old brown brick-stones seemed to radiate an aura of menace.
Go east
You walked into the sitting room. It was cozy, and spare, the way your grandmother liked to live. Grandfather probably would have preferred to keep more of his books and baubles around the house, but for their part the baubles had been sitting in a storage crate since god knows when.

Some of the books managed a happier fate; you could see them through the open door to the southeast, packed into shelves and stacked up on top of each other in messy piles. Grandfather was probably in there right now, reading and studying about...

That thing. Whatever it was that he wanted you to do.

Delicious smells wafted in from the closed kitchen door to the east.
Examine books
books of every description were stacked in piles, crammed onto the shelves. Of those that were in English, you couldn't recognize a single title. The rest were even more mysterious—it seemed that
almost
every script in the world was represented, etched onto the cover of some codex that lay strewn on the floor, clearly read and read again. Your mind boggled.
Go east
(first opening the kitchen door)
Your grandmother, eagle-eyed, spotted you creeping in to get a look at the soup. "Out, out! Wait until dinnertime, boy, how old are you?"

She shooed you back out through the door.

The sitting room was cozy, and spare, the way your grandmother liked to live. Grandfather probably would have preferred to keep more of his books and baubles around the house, but for their part the baubles had been sitting in a storage crate since god knows when.

Some of the books managed a happier fate; you could see them through the open door to the southeast, packed into shelves and stacked up on top of each other in messy piles. Grandfather was probably in there right now, reading and studying about...

That thing. Whatever it was that he wanted you to do.

The kitchen door to the east stood open, and you could see your grandmother bustling around, working on the soup. She clearly spotted you, and was looking at you quizzically. Maybe your face betrayed something.
You go southeast
You were in the library, your grandfather's "study" (as he called it). books of every description, from glossy magazines to ancient, decaying tomes lay open on the floor or spilling out of shelves. Grandfather was at his desk, furrowing his gray brow in concentration. He hadn't looked happy much, lately, nor did he now, but this was surely the next best thing.
You examine Grandfather
It was almost heartbreaking to look at him. His voluble face and his gray beard were still there, but his face was wan, and his eyes were sunken. Since yesterday, more bandages had been wound around his arm, and his hard voice had weakened to a tremble. An authoritative tremble, but nothing could disguise his increasing weakness. He seemed to steady himself on the desk.
You examine the desk
An old mahogany desk, in the French style. It had never occurred to you to ask where grandfather had gotten it from.
You talk to Grandfather
Be more specific—ASK about a specific thing or topic, if you
want
to talk to your grandfather. And remember, it may be useful to ASK more than once about the same topic, or to come back later and ASK again after pursuing other subjects. Not everyone is infinitely forthcoming!
You ask Grandfather about books
He shook his head. "The key, boy! Where is the key?"
You give the key to him
He snatched the bronze key out of your hand. "Good, good. I'm just glad it was still there," he said. Then slowly, gravely, he dangled the key over the pages of the book he was examining, and let go.

It tumbled down, spinning, and then, when it hit the shimmering gold page laid out before him, it simply tumbled through, as if it had been dropped into water.
Examine book
(the book)
It seemed ancient, although not as ancient as it feels now to you. That thing must have come far. Its golden pages seemed to shimmer and ripple in the dim light.
You ask him about the key
"It unlocks something which is better left unopened. It's better for all of us that it should be hidden that way."
You ask him about the book
(the book)
He looked dismayed for a moment, looking down at the rippling gold pages in an unknown language that lay before him. "That's the rub, isn't it? This thing has a curse. It is a curse. It's unreadable... and it kills you," he said.
You ask him about the book
(the book)
"It has... strange properties," he said.
You ask him about the book
(the book)
"I got it from Pierre. I've told you about him, haven't I? We studied together in Paris."
You ask him about Pierre
He said "Ah, I haven't told you about him? Maybe you just don't remember. Pierre was a, uh, a geologist friend of mine, when I was studying in Paris. We had wonderful times together, you know. And he would go out on these antarctic missions. That was where he got all his wonderful... gifts."
You ask him about the gifts
He gestured to the book in front of him, silently.
You ask him about Pierre
He shook his head. "I don't want to linger over old times. He is out of our lives now—and we are probably the better for it."
You ask him about paris
His patience was beginning to wear thin.
You ask him about the book
(the book)
"Amundsen wasn't the first, you know. The Vikings made it further than anyone suspected, I suppose. That's what he said. That they found things in the ocean... and they left their knowledge at the end of the world."

Again he fell silent. You opened your mouth.
You ask him about Vikings
"The vikings beat everyone to the north pole, of course. It would seem they found all kinds of things under the ice. That's what Pierre told me."
You ask him about Vikings
He huffed a little. "I'm not really an expert on these things."
You ask him about the book
(the book)
"He found this book there. It must have been the Vikings—the writing almost looks like runes, doesn't it? Where they got the paper from, it's not ours to know, but they must have had contact with something else. Somehow. Because it isn't just a book... in fact it's hardly a book at all." You continued to find this maddeningly unclear, and you itched to ask him again.
You ask him about the book
(the book)
"It's a summoner of storms. It's a portal to another world, in the most literal imaginable sense. You could step through it and emerge somewhere that no man has gone, perhaps since the Norsemen were the masters of the waves. It's very, very dangerous. And it carries... a rot. A rot that is yours, now, too." He shut the book with with a snap, and gestured to it, as if it was an offering.
You get the book
(the book)
He looked at you sadly as you picked it up, and he mumbled something you could barely hear. It sounded as if he was saying you would see each other soon. His bones were breaking.

You picked up the book. The book. That ancient, weathered
thing. That thing of evil. And now its curse was yours, just as it had been your grandfather's...

(Press any key to continue)
You look at your surroundings
You shake yourself back to reality. Right, you were staring at the book, again.
Describe the surroundings
Cramped, but conveniently private. There's a plastic hole for a toilet and a shiny mirror on the wall, possibly also made of plastic. It looks like someone left their gross old baseball cap in here.
You look at your surroundings
looks like someone left their gross old baseball cap in here.The book's weathered black cover houses a magnificent emerald in its very center. A silver clasp keeps it shut tight. Your finger itches to open it.
You look at the emerald
A glistening green emerald. It almost looks like an eye, staring up at you.
You look at the clasp
A shiny silver clasp, which looks newer than any other part of the book. It beckons to you.
Inventory
You are carrying:
your bag (open)
the book (closed)
a fez cap
a cosmetic mirror
an apple (snagged at Cairo Airport)
a plastic knife
your cell phone
You examine the fez
Yeah, there were no Shriner events at the conference.
Obviously. The fact that your father thought that it would be
useful for you to join an adult fraternal organization, in the twenty-first century, is certainly indicative of something.

It's a red fuzzy cap, that they—that you wear for those
dumb
rituals.
You examine the apple
Mmm. At least you won't go without lunch.
You examine the knife
A long, stiletto-like dagger made of hard and jagged plastic. You could really take someone out with this.

But it gets through airport security.
You examine the phone
It's pretty slick. You just got this one last month, so you've still been having fun whooshing things around.
Close bag
You close your bag.
You open the bag
You open your bag, revealing the book and a fez cap.
You open clasp
Delicately, you open the silver clasp, and the book springs open. Its rippling golden pages seem to shimmer, regardless of the light.

Suddenly, the plane gives a lurch, and you almost hit your head on the ceiling. Your heart is still racing as you try to steady yourself.
Examine book
You catch a glimpse of the book.

The cryptic yellow pages display bizarre runes, spelling out something no human could ever read. You see a shimmer of the void behind the crimson ink.

You're unable to keep your balance and you stumble against a wall, banging your head. The plane continues to sway wildly.
You enter the book
You manage to crawl over to the book where it lies open on the ground.

You recklessly push your head against the page—you pass through, as
if
it wasn't there, and tumble through into the void...
##
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent.

The book floats here, open, its pages shimmering in nonexistent light, beckoning you to return to the world. It emits soft sounds of violence; you are tempted to listen.

Far away, northwest of where you float, you glimpse a flash of bronze-ish color, but it is too far away to make out any details.
You listen
It's too far away.

The noise from the book suddenly stops.
You listen to the book
You hear nothing unexpected.

The noise from the book suddenly stops.
You enter the book
You push your head against the page—you pass through, as if it
wasn't
there, and tumble through...

You emerge in the plane bathroom, slightly disoriented.
Look around
Cramped, but conveniently private. There's a plastic hole for a toilet and a shiny mirror on the wall, possibly also made of plastic. It looks like someone left their gross old baseball cap in here.

The book lies open, its golden pages rippling regardless of the movement of the air.
You put the book in the bag
(first taking the book)
You close and latch the book as you pick it up.

You put the book into your bag.
Close bag
You close your bag.
Go outside
Wow. The plane must have come all the way down, while you were... in there.

You stumble, walking on the tilted floor. It's eerily quiet in here. Everything seems abandoned, or torn apart. People's overhead luggage is spilled all over the floor. Further down the aisle, the floor dips below the waterline. You shudder. Everyone must have evacuated, you tell yourself.

An open emergency exit beckons you to the outdoors.
You go outside
The plane looms next to you, a huge monolith of white metal, half-sunk beneath the placid waves. The yellow escape slide is still inflated, but it seems that everyone who got out is gone, now. There's a raft of suitcases(?) in the distance. The endless ocean stretches out in all directions. Standing here, in the salty sea air, something inside your strange body feels drawn to the cold sea.

A yellow life raft floats here in the sunny water.
You examine the sea
The calm waters ripple placidly.
You examine raft
A yellow inflatable life raft, with a little embedded compass and a waterproof light. There's a stout yellow paddle lying in the raft, with which (presumably) it can be maneuvered around.

In the life raft is a paddle.
Oops paddle
A sturdy plastic paddle.
You enter the raft
You grab the yellow plastic oar as you step into the raft.

You get into the life raft.
You go northwest
Open Water (in the life raft)
You are in the open water. Bright sun shines on your face. The tall metal pillar of the wrecked plane looms to the southeast.
Go northwest
Striking out into the open water is a dangerous proposition. You fear that you would quickly lose sight of the crash—and die.
You open the bag
You open your bag, revealing the book and a fez cap.
You open the book
Delicately, you open the silver clasp, and the book springs open. Its rippling golden pages seem to shimmer, regardless of the light.

You open the book.

The sky seems, somehow, to darken. Not imperceptibly.
You enter the book
You push your head against the page—you pass through, as if it
wasn't
there, and tumble through into the void...
##
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent.

The book floats here, open, its pages shimmering in nonexistent light, beckoning you to return to the world.

Far away, northwest of where you float, you glimpse a flash of bronze-ish color, but it is too far away to make out any details.
You press the space
bronze-ish color, but it is too far away to make out any details.As you emerge into the void, you are suddenly faced with the long face of a green serpent, barreling towards you with its eyes ablaze. You
must think fast.
You enter the book
The serpent follows you, rabid.

You push your head against the page—you pass through, as if it
wasn't
there, and tumble through...

You emerge into the cold water, slightly disoriented.
The serpent lunges behind you, and you feel its hot breath on your heels even as you emerge into the water. You hear its screeching, but when you dare to look back, the thing is lying dead—or nearly dead.

You are in the open water. The shade of dark clouds seems to give you respite from the hot sun. The tall metal pillar of the wrecked plane looms to the southeast.

The book lies open, its golden pages rippling regardless of the movement of the air.

The huge serpent floats here, gasping, ineffectually snapping its slimy fangs. Apparently, the thing can't breathe outside the aether of the void. It seems like it's suffocating. Its head is far away, out of reach to nothing. You're lucky you survived.

A yellow life raft floats here, placid on the black water.

Gray clouds are gathering.
You enter the raft
You already have that.

You grab the yellow plastic oar as you step into the raft.

You get into the life raft.

Lightning flashes in the sky.
You look at the serpent
(the serpent's tail)
A long rope of shining scales, leading you up, up along the long, long body of the serpent, to its irresistible face. Its eyes.

You hear a crash of thunder, and rain begins to fall.
You examine the eyes
The serpent's beady red burning eyes shine like flame, like a sun consumed. They seem fixed on you. You long to reach out, to touch them. It is a primordial longing.

The rain strengthens into a torrent, soaking you cold to the bone. The freezing water might be forcing tears from your eyes—you can't even tell.
You get the eyes
Those seem to be a part of the serpent's head.

You shiver under the onslaught of raindrops that blast your skull like tiny bullets.
You touch eyes
As your hands connect to the awful, burning eyes, you feel a searing, as your half-rotted fleh melts into the eternal fire. This time, it hurts. It hurts awfully, terribly, a hadean pain that you cannot seem to banish—

but when you pull away, your hands glow like embers. Spiritual lights, that may guide you yet. Whither, you do not know.

The rain comes down in torrents.

You spot something bright green, floating in the water. It's hard to tell quite what it is.
You get green
Which do you mean, the 1) pen light, 2) the serpent's tail, 3) the long body of the serpent, 4) the long body of the serpent, or 5) the serpent's head?
You get the pen light
Huh, it's an old pen llight thingy. It doesn't look rusted or anything, so it must've just been dropped here—maybe jetsam from the plane.

Taken.

Rain pounds down on you.
You examine the light
Hanging off of an old key ring, it's a scuffed-up looking pen light, like you might use to look at somebody's tonsils, or whatever. You're actually not sure why people carry these. It's pretty bright green, so it probably has It doesn't seem to turn on, but maybe it just needs to dry out.

The pen light is currently switched off.

The rain comes down in torrents.
You examine the head
A huge, scaly head, its nostrils flared. Strange light glimmers from its green scales. Its eyes, even in death, blaze with the fire of an alien sun.

You shiver under the onslaught of raindrops that blast your skull like tiny bullets.
You look around
Open Water (in the life raft)
You are in the open water. Your hands dig into the rubber as choppy water buffets your lifeboat, tossing you this way and that. The tall metal pillar of the wrecked plane looms to the southeast.

The book lies open, its golden pages rippling regardless of the movement of the air.

The huge serpent floats here, gasping, ineffectually snapping its slimy fangs. Apparently, the thing can't breathe outside the aether of the void. It seems like it's suffocating. Its head is far away, out of reach to nothing.

The rain comes down in torrents.
Go southeast
By the slide (in the life raft)
The plane looms to your east, a huge monolith of white metal, half-sunk beneath the choppy waves. The yellow escape slide is still inflated, but it seems that everyone who got out is gone, now. There's a raft of suitcases(?) to the south. The endless ocean stretches out in all directions.

Rain pounds down on you.
You go east
You set the paddle down inside the lifeboat.

You get out of the life raft.

The plane looms next to you, a huge monolith of white metal, half-sunk beneath the choppy waves. The yellow escape slide is still inflated, but it seems that everyone who got out is gone, now. There's a raft of suitcases(?) in the distance. The endless ocean stretches out in all directions.

A yellow life raft floats here, bobbing violently among the black waves. You can reach it, but perhaps not for long.

The plane looms next to you, a huge monolith of white metal, half-sunk beneath the choppy waves. The yellow escape slide is still inflated, but it seems that everyone who got out is gone, now. There's a raft of suitcases(?) in the distance. The endless ocean stretches out in all directions.

The blistering cold of the hard rain makes you shiver.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a pen light
a paddle
your bag (open)
a fez cap
a cosmetic mirror
an apple (snagged at Cairo Airport)
a plastic knife
your cell phone

The blistering cold of the hard rain makes you shiver.
You go northeast
You can't go that way.

The rain comes down in torrents.
You go north
Open Water (in the life raft)
You are in the open water. Your hands dig into the rubber as choppy water buffets your lifeboat, tossing you this way and that. The tall metal pillar of the wrecked plane looms to the south.

You shiver under the onslaught of raindrops that blast your skull like tiny bullets.
You go east
Striking out into the open water is a dangerous proposition. You fear that you would quickly lose sight of the crash—and die.

Rain pounds down on you.
You go south
By the slide (in the life raft)
The plane looms to your east, a huge monolith of white metal, half-sunk beneath the choppy waves. The yellow escape slide is still inflated, but it seems that everyone who got out is gone, now. There's a raft of suitcases(?) to the south. The endless ocean stretches out in all directions.

You shiver under the onslaught of raindrops that blast your skull like tiny bullets.
Go northwest
Open Water (in the life raft)
You are in the open water. Your hands dig into the rubber as choppy water buffets your lifeboat, tossing you this way and that. The tall metal pillar of the wrecked plane looms to the southeast.

The book lies open, its golden pages rippling regardless of the movement of the air.

The huge serpent floats here, gasping, ineffectually snapping its slimy fangs. Apparently, the thing can't breathe outside the aether of the void. It seems like it's suffocating. Its head is far away, out of reach to nothing.

Rain pounds down on you.
You get the book
You close and latch the book as you pick it up.

Taken.

The clouds seem to part, and the sun returns, shining.
Go south
Open Water (in the life raft)
To the east is what remains of the plane, and southeast of you is what looks like a makeshift raft, assembled out of old luggage.
Go south
Open Water (in the life raft)
The makeshift flotilla of salvaged luggage is east of here, but you're too far away to make out any detail. The sun beats down on you, somewhere between pleasant and frightening.
Go east
Luggage Flotilla (in the life raft)
It looks like all the other passengers have camped out here. They're all crouched, somewhat raggedly, on a detached piece of wing. It's a sorry sight. Someone must have broken open the luggage hatch, because a whole raft of suitcases has been strapped together here, to keep them from sinking. Or maybe that's just the stuff from the overhead compartment.
You examine the passengers
Which do you mean, the 1) sleeping passenger or the 2) flotilla?
You examine the sleeping
There's a guy in a red button-up that looks like he might be the fellow who was sleeping behind you on the flight. It's hard to tell.
Flotilla
It would be more fruitful to talk to someone who can answer.
You enter the flotilla
They recoil at first, at your decaying form, but the stewardess recognizes you. You discover that they think you were burned, somehow, by jet fuel during the crash. You play along, and you let them tend to you. You'll find a way to hide, once you're rescued.
You look at the flash
It's too far away.
You go to the north-west
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent.

The shimmering book floats just southeast of you.

Far away, northwest of where you float, you glimpse a flash of bronze-ish color, but it is too far away to make out any details.
You go to the northwest
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent.

Somewhere in the distance, southeast of here, you can see the glimmer of the book's unearthly pages.

Far away, northwest of where you float, you glimpse a flash of bronze-ish color, but it is too far away to make out any details.
Go northwest
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent.

Somewhere in the distance, southeast of here, you can see the glimmer of the book's unearthly pages.

Far away, up and northwest of where you float, you glimpse a flash of bronze-ish color, but it is too far away to make out any details.
You go to the north-west
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent and dry.

Somewhere in the distance, southeast of here, you can see the glimmer of the book's unearthly pages.

Far away, up and northwest of where you float, you glimpse a flash of bronze-ish color, but it is too far away to make out any details.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a pen light
a paddle
your bag (open)
a fez cap
a cosmetic mirror
an apple (snagged at Cairo Airport)
a plastic knife
your cell phone
About yourself
You don't really care who sees you at this point. All this being knocked around has scraped off a lot of your disguise. If you look like a zombie emerging from a skinsuit, so be it.
Go southeast
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent.

The book floats here, open, its pages shimmering in nonexistent light, beckoning you to return to the world.

Far away, northwest of where you float, you glimpse a flash of bronze-ish color, but it is too far away to make out any details.
You enter the book
You push your head against the page—you pass through, as if it
wasn't
there, and tumble through...

You emerge into the cold water, slightly disoriented.
Luggage Flotilla
It looks like all the other passengers have camped out here. They're all crouched, somewhat raggedly, on a detached piece of wing. It's a sorry sight. Someone must have broken open the luggage hatch, because a whole raft of suitcases has been strapped together here, to keep them from sinking. Or maybe that's just the stuff from the overhead compartment.

The book lies open, its golden pages rippling regardless of the movement of the air.

A yellow life raft floats here, bobbing violently among the black waves. You can reach it, but perhaps not for long.

You shiver under the onslaught of raindrops that blast your skull like tiny bullets.
You get all
book: You close and latch the book as you pick it up.

Taken.

The clouds seem to part, and the sun returns, shining.
Go north
The plane looms next to you, a huge monolith of white metal, half-sunk beneath the placid waves. The yellow escape slide is still inflated, but it seems that everyone who got out is gone, now. There's a raft of suitcases in the distance. The endless ocean stretches out in all directions.
You go to the north-west
You are in the open water. Bright sun shines on your face. The tall metal pillar of the wrecked plane looms to the southeast.
Go south
To the east is what remains of the plane, and southeast of you is the makeshift raft that the survivors assembled.
Go east
You are in the open water. Bright sun shines on your face. The tall metal pillar of the wrecked plane looms to the south.
You go to the north-west
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent and dry.

The shimmering book floats just southeast of you.

Far away, northwest of where you float, you glimpse a flash of bronze-ish color, but it is too far away to make out any details.
You go to the northwest
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent.

Somewhere in the distance, southeast of here, you can see the glimmer of the book's unearthly pages.

Far away, northwest of where you float, you glimpse a flash of bronze-ish color, but it is too far away to make out any details.
Go up
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent and dry.

Somewhere in the distance, southeast of here, you can see the glimmer of the book's unearthly pages.

Far away, northwest of where you float, you glimpse a flash of bronze-ish color, but it is too far away to make out any details.
Go northwest
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent.

Somewhere in the distance, southeast of here, you can see the glimmer of the book's unearthly pages.

Somewhere above, you can see what looks like the bronze key.
You ascend
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent and dry.

Somewhere in the distance, southeast of here, you can see the glimmer of the book's unearthly pages.

The bronze key floats just a few feet up and northwest from you.
You examine key
(the bronze key)
It's the same key that you saw grandfather drop into the book!
You get key
(the bronze key)
It's too far away.
Ascend
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent and dry.

Somewhere in the distance, southeast of here, you can see the glimmer of the book's unearthly pages.

The bronze key floats just a few feet northwest from you.
Go northwest
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent.

Somewhere in the distance, southeast of here, you can see the glimmer of the book's unearthly pages.

You can see a bronze key here.
You get the key
(the bronze key)
As you seize the floating key, you feel a warmth extend from your hands to your entire body, and you realize that your torso is glowing red...

A glowing green keyhole forms out the molten flesh of your torso, burning through your shirt and jacket—but strangely, it doesn't hurt at all.
You examine the keyhole
A burning black keyhole in your chest, aching for a key.
You unlock the keyhole with the key
(the bronze key)
The key is swallowed up, and as it is, you feel more flesh peel away, flaking like dead paint—your throat clears out, as if it had never been clear before.

You have decayed further; you are more a monster. And you no longer need to breathe.
About yourself
Flaking apart like some kind of hideous corpse, you look more like a monster than a man.
Go southeast
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent.

Somewhere in the distance, southeast of here, you can see the glimmer of the book's unearthly pages.
Go southeast
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent.

Somewhere in the distance, down and southeast of here, you can see the glimmer of the book's unearthly pages.
Go southeast
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent and dry.

Somewhere in the distance, down and southeast of here, you can see the glimmer of the book's unearthly pages.
Go southeast
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent.

Somewhere in the distance, below here, you can see the glimmer of the book's unearthly pages.
Go downward
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent and dry.

Somewhere in the distance, below here, you can see the glimmer of the book's unearthly pages.
Go southeast
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent.

The shimmering book floats just down and southeast of you.
Go southeast
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent.

The shimmering book floats just below you.
Go downward
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent.

The book floats here, open, its pages shimmering in nonexistent light, beckoning you to return to the world.
You enter the book
You push your head against the page—you pass through, as if it
wasn't
there, and tumble through...

You emerge into the cold water, slightly disoriented.
Open Water
You are in the open water. The choppy water splashes cold against your face, as the rain lashes against your already-soaked scalp. The tall metal pillar of the wrecked plane looms to the southeast.

The book lies open, its golden pages rippling regardless of the movement of the air.

The blistering cold of the hard rain makes you shiver.
You get the book
You close and latch the book as you pick it up.

Taken.

The clouds seem to part, and the sun returns, shining.
Go downwards
You hesitate for a moment, fighting long-ingrained instincts, and then dive into the ocean.
dive into the ocean.You feel as if you're about to choke, for a moment, but the water rushing into your mouth doesn't suffocate at all. You feel like you're breathing cold, freezing air.
all. You feel like you're breathing cold, freezing air.## Under the Water
Light filters down from the surface, bathing your surroundings in an ethereal blue glow. To the southeast, you can make out the gray shadow of the towering wreck—descending into the dark below.

The book seems to strain downward, like a living thing, dragging you deeper into darkness.
Go downwards
Down here, the water is heavy, dense, and black, like liquid night. You can make out little, other than the looming black shadow of the plane to the southeast, and a silhouette of darker stone to the east.
You go southeast
Now you can see why the plane didn't sink further: the tail is lodged at the top of a stone cliff, extending down into darkness. The shelf of the cliff extends on, seemingly endlessly, to the east. Aside from this, little else is visible; the sea is dim in all directions.

The book seems to strain downward, like a living thing, dragging you deeper into darkness.
You examine wreck
The tail is crushed against the cliff of rock, almost like a tin can.
You look at the cliff
A craggy stone cliff, extending down into the deep.
You go north
Down here, the water is heavy, dense, and black, like liquid night. You can make out little, other than the looming black shadow of the plane to the south, and a silhouette of darker stone to the east.

The book seems to strain downward, like a living thing, dragging you deeper into darkness.
Go east
You don't want to stray too far from your landmarks—the plane, primarily.
You go downward
You light the way forward, downward, with the burning fire of your hands as you descend.

In the Uttermost Deep (red-lit)
You swim through the thick black water, down here where the pressure is almost all there is to feel. Whatever's going on at the surface, you have no idea. Through the red-lit blackness of the deep, you can make out a strange stone formation to the south.
You go to the south
Down here, everything is dark and heavy, like liquid night. A huge stone wall, the side of the great cliff, stretches south from where you float.
You look at the wall
A rough wall of cold stone. Somehow, it feels... less solid than the floor of rock above.
You go to the south
Down here, everything is dark and heavy, like liquid night. A huge stone wall, the side of the great cliff, stretches north from where you float. A powerful current seems to bearing you eastward, into the wall of stone.
You go east
The stone wall blocks your way.
Go south
In the Uttermost Deep (red-lit)
You swim through the thick black water, down here where the pressure is almost all there is to feel. Whatever's going on at the surface, you have no idea. Through the red-lit blackness of the deep, you can make out a strange stone formation to the north.
You go to the west
You find you are too weak to swim against the eastward current.
Swim
You'll have to be more specific about which way you want to go.
You go east
The stone wall blocks your way.
You look at the wall
A rough wall of cold stone. Somehow, it feels... less solid than the floor of rock above. On closer inspection, you notice a slender opening in the stone surface, about twice the thickness of your book.
You look at the opening
A narrow slot in the stone—strangely regular, as if it was deliberately carved. It's slightly thicker than the spine of your book, which seems to strain forward, as if it wants to go inside.
You put the book in the opening
No! It would be lost!
You open the book
Delicately, you open the silver clasp, and the book springs open. Its rippling golden pages seem to shimmer, regardless of the light.

You open the book.
You enter book
You push your head against the page—you pass through, as if it
wasn't
there, and tumble through into the void...
##
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent and dry.

The book floats here, open, its pages shimmering in nonexistent light, beckoning you to return to the world.
You enter the book
You push your head against the page—you pass through, as if it
wasn't
there, and tumble through...

You emerge into the cold water, slightly disoriented.
By the cliff wall
Down here, everything is dark and heavy, like liquid night. A huge stone wall, the side of the great cliff, stretches north from where you float. A powerful current seems to bearing you eastward, into the wall of stone.

The book lies open, its golden pages rippling regardless of the movement of the water.
Close book
With some effort, you are able to will yourself to close the book; thinking for a moment, you decide to affix its clasp, in case it should decide to open on its own.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a pen light
a paddle
your bag (open)
a fez cap
a cosmetic mirror
an apple (snagged at Cairo Airport)
a plastic knife
your cell phone
Drop book
You let go of the book for a moment, but it spirals towards the gaping vent, and you snatch it back just in time.
Go upward
Here you find yourself floating at the lip of a great stone shelf, extending to the east past where your eyes can see through the brine. The wreck of the plane is lodged against it to the north.
Go upwards
Above you is the shadowy, rectangular shape of the survivors' makeshift flotilla. From below, you can see dangling straps, dancing in the currents. The wreckage of your plane lies north, blurred in your vision at this distance by the brine.
Go upwards
Gasping, you struggle to the surface, and blink salty brine out of your eyes as you readjust to breathing air.

It looks like all the other passengers have camped out here. They're all crouched, somewhat raggedly, on a detached piece of wing. It's a sorry sight. Someone must have broken open the luggage hatch, because a whole raft of suitcases has been strapped together here, to keep them from sinking. Or maybe that's just the stuff from the overhead compartment.

A yellow life raft floats here in the sunny water.
You enter the flotilla
Your glowing hands, your unholy, monstrous form—they recoil from
you,
of course. The stewardess starts to scream as you put your briny hand on the edge of their platform. You let go, and drift back away. There's no going back.
Go downward
You hesitate for a moment, fighting long-ingrained instincts, and then dive into the ocean.
dive into the ocean.You feel as if you're about to choke, for a moment, but the water rushing into your mouth doesn't suffocate at all. You feel like you're breathing cold, freezing air.
all. You feel like you're breathing cold, freezing air.## By the wreck The sunken half of the plane stretches beneath you. Little bubbles drift past your eyes, up to the surface. You are not sure if the dappled sunlight coming down from the water's surface makes this better—or worse.
You check your inventory
You are carrying:
a pen light
a paddle
your bag (open)
a fez cap
a cosmetic mirror
an apple (snagged at Cairo Airport)
a plastic knife
your cell phone
Go downwards
The tail of the plane is lodged at the top of a stone cliff, extending down into darkness. The shelf of the cliff extends on, seemingly endlessly, to the east. Aside from this, little else is visible; the sea is dim in all directions.
You go downwards
You light the way forward, downward, with the burning fire of your hands as you descend.

Down here, everything is dark and heavy, like liquid night. A huge stone wall, the side of the great cliff, stretches south from where you float.
Go south
Down here, everything is dark and heavy, like liquid night. A huge stone wall, the side of the great cliff, stretches north from where you float. A powerful current seems to bearing you eastward, into the wall of stone.

The weathered black book glowers from where it sits.
You get the book
Taken.
Look around
Down here, everything is dark and heavy, like liquid night. A huge stone wall, the side of the great cliff, stretches south from where you float.

The weathered black book glowers from where it sits.
Wait
Time passes.
You go upwards
The tail of the plane is lodged at the top of a stone cliff, extending down into darkness. The shelf of the cliff extends on, seemingly endlessly, to the east. Aside from this, little else is visible; the sea is dim in all directions.

The book seems to strain downward, like a living thing, dragging you deeper into darkness.
Drop book
The book sinks down and out of sight.
Go downward
You light the way forward, downward, with the burning fire of your hands as you descend.

Down here, everything is dark and heavy, like liquid night. A huge stone wall, the side of the great cliff, stretches south from where you float.

The weathered black book glowers from where it sits.
Go south
Here you find yourself floating at the lip of a great stone shelf, extending to the east past where your eyes can see through the brine. The wreck of the plane is lodged against it to the north.

The book seems to strain downward, like a living thing, dragging you deeper into darkness.
Go down
You light the way forward, downward, with the burning fire of your hands as you descend.

Down here, everything is dark and heavy, like liquid night. A huge stone wall, the side of the great cliff, stretches north from where you float. A powerful current seems to bearing you eastward, into the wall of stone.

The weathered black book glowers from where it sits.
Wait
Time passes.
Go west
There is darkness all around, and you can barely make out your surroundings. To the east, a rectangular shadow looms, and to the northeast a tower of blackness—the plane.
Look around
There is darkness all around, and you can barely make out your surroundings. To the east, a rectangular shadow looms, and to the northeast a tower of blackness—the plane.

The weathered black book glowers from where it sits.
You go north
Down here, the water is heavy, dense, and black, like liquid night. You can make out little, other than the looming black shadow of the plane to the east, and a silhouette of darker stone to the east.
Look around
Down here, the water is heavy, dense, and black, like liquid night. You can make out little, other than the looming black shadow of the plane to the east, and a silhouette of darker stone to the east.

The weathered black book glowers from where it sits.
You go south
Down here, the water is heavy, dense, and black, like liquid night. You can make out little, other than a silhouette of darker stone to the east.
You go south
You don't want to stray too far from your landmarks—the plane, the stone.
You go to the east
Floating over the surface of this underwater shelf, it seems as if it goes on forever. To your west, you can go over the lip, free to travel down into the darkness below. To the northwest, the hulking shadow of the half-sunk plane stands; a menacing monolith.
You examine the shelf
You run your hand over the smooth, rocky surface. You think you glimpse markings on the stone, but, just as quickly, you lose your place. In any case, it was no language you have ever seen.
You look at shelf
You run your hand over the smooth, rocky surface. You think you glimpse markings on the stone, but, just as quickly, you lose your place. Perhaps it was simply your imagination.
Go upwards
The water is dim, here, perhaps because the shadow of the plane looms over you. To the northwest, you can make out what seems to be a dark, rectangular shape in the water above. Below you, there is only darkness—darker than before.

The book seems to strain downward, like a living thing, dragging you deeper into darkness.
You go to the northwest
The sunken half of the plane stretches beneath you. Little bubbles drift past your eyes, up to the surface. You are not sure if the dappled sunlight coming down from the water's surface makes this better—or worse.

The book seems to strain downward, like a living thing, dragging you deeper into darkness.
Go up
Gasping, you struggle to the surface, and blink salty brine out of your eyes as you readjust to breathing air.

The plane looms next to you, a huge monolith of white metal, half-sunk beneath the placid waves. The yellow escape slide is still inflated, but it seems that everyone who got out is gone, now. There's a raft of suitcases in the distance. The endless ocean stretches out in all directions.
Drop book
It wants to go down, but you hold it tight.
Go downward
You hesitate for a moment, fighting long-ingrained instincts, and then dive into the ocean.
dive into the ocean.You feel as if you're about to choke, for a moment, but the water rushing into your mouth doesn't suffocate at all. You feel like you're breathing cold, freezing air.
all. You feel like you're breathing cold, freezing air.## By the wreck The sunken half of the plane stretches beneath you. Little bubbles drift past your eyes, up to the surface. You are not sure if the dappled sunlight coming down from the water's surface makes this better—or worse.

The book seems to strain downward, like a living thing, dragging you deeper into darkness.
You go northwest
Light filters down from the surface, bathing your surroundings in an ethereal blue glow. To the southeast, you can make out the gray shadow of the towering wreck—descending into the dark below.

The book seems to strain downward, like a living thing, dragging you deeper into darkness.
Drop book
The book sinks down and out of sight.
Go downwards
Down here, the water is heavy, dense, and black, like liquid night. You can make out little, other than the looming black shadow of the plane to the southeast, and a silhouette of darker stone to the east.

The weathered black book glowers from where it sits.
You go to the east
Light filters down from the surface, bathing your surroundings in an ethereal blue glow. To the south, you can make out the gray shadow of the towering wreck—descending into the dark below.

The book seems to strain downward, like a living thing, dragging you deeper into darkness.
You go down
Down here, the water is heavy, dense, and black, like liquid night. You can make out little, other than the looming black shadow of the plane to the south, and a silhouette of darker stone to the east.

The weathered black book glowers from where it sits.

The book sinks down and out of sight.
Go downward
You light the way forward, downward, with the burning fire of your hands as you descend.

In the Uttermost Deep (red-lit)
You swim through the thick black water, down here where the pressure is almost all there is to feel. Whatever's going on at the surface, you have no idea. Through the red-lit blackness of the deep, you can make out a strange stone formation to the south.

The weathered black book glowers from where it sits.
You go east
The plane, and its surrounding wreckage, block your way. Even swimming around it would be exhausting, not to mention pointless.
Go down
The tail of the plane is lodged at the top of a stone cliff, extending down into darkness. The shelf of the cliff extends on, seemingly endlessly, to the east. Aside from this, little else is visible; the sea is dim in all directions.

The book seems to strain downward, like a living thing, dragging you deeper into darkness.
Go down
The tail of the plane is lodged at the top of a stone cliff, extending down into darkness. The shelf of the cliff extends on, seemingly endlessly, to the east. Aside from this, little else is visible; the sea is dim in all directions.

The weathered black book glowers from where it sits.

The book sinks down and out of sight.
Go downward
You light the way forward, downward, with the burning fire of your hands as you descend.

Down here, everything is dark and heavy, like liquid night. A huge stone wall, the side of the great cliff, stretches south from where you float.

The weathered black book glowers from where it sits.
Go upwards
Above you is the shadowy, rectangular shape of the survivors' makeshift flotilla. From below, you can see dangling straps, dancing in the currents. The wreckage of your plane lies north, blurred in your vision at this distance by the brine.

The book seems to strain downward, like a living thing, dragging you deeper into darkness.
Go down
Here you find yourself floating at the lip of a great stone shelf, extending to the east past where your eyes can see through the brine. The wreck of the plane is lodged against it to the north.

The weathered black book glowers from where it sits.

The book sinks down and out of sight.
Go down
You light the way forward, downward, with the burning fire of your hands as you descend.

Down here, everything is dark and heavy, like liquid night. A huge stone wall, the side of the great cliff, stretches north from where you float. A powerful current seems to bearing you eastward, into the wall of stone.

The weathered black book glowers from where it sits.
Inventory
You are carrying:
the book (closed)
a pen light
a paddle
your bag (open)
a fez cap
a cosmetic mirror
an apple (snagged at Cairo Airport)
a plastic knife
your cell phone
You examine the bag
A well-crafted leather bag. This thing has been with you on many adventures.

In your bag is a fez cap.
You enter the opening
You are far too large.
You cut yourself
(with the knife)
You have no desire at all to lunge at yourself with your knife.
You enter the book
You push your head against the page—you pass through, as if it
wasn't
there, and tumble through into the void...
##
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent.

The book floats here, open, its pages shimmering in nonexistent light, beckoning you to return to the world.
You get the book
You close and latch the book as you pick it up.

The book falls closed behind you, somehow.
Look around
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent.

You think you see a brown perturbance in the black space, north of here.
You go north
You are in an inky black expanse, stretching infinitely in every direction. It is utterly, eerily silent and dry.

You think you see a brown perturbance in the black space, north of here.
You enter the book
You push your head against the page—you pass through, as if it
wasn't
there, and tumble through...

You emerge in the inside an enormous tunnel, slightly disoriented.
Inside an enormous tunnel
You close and latch the book as you pick it up.

This place is even darker than the cliffside you left. The book must have floated in, or... drawn itself in, however it does so. Something feels very unnatural.

You're floating near the ceiling of what must be a vast stone tunnel, utterly black, lit only by the soft red embers of your hands. A glowing sliver of dimness behind you, to the south, must be the slot in the stone—there's no getting back out. The floor is too far below you to see, and the seemingly infinite cold tunnel continues to the north.
Inventory
You are carrying:
the book (closed)
a pen light
a paddle
your bag (open)
a fez cap
a cosmetic mirror
an apple (snagged at Cairo Airport)
a plastic knife
your cell phone
You go to the north
You swim forward.

The utterly black tunnel stretches on, northwards, growing more dread and more freezing with every stroke of movement. The hard stone above your head feel oppressive in the dark.
You go north
You swim forward.

You float before what seems to be upper part of a gargantuan stone doorway; in the dark, you can feel strange inscriptions on its surface. But it is ajar, and in its cyclopean size that crack would be large enough to fit you through. North...
You look at the door
You can only really feel it, not see it, for the darkness here is so complete; but there is a warmth behind it, and perhaps a glow.
Go north
You swim forward.

As you step into the charnel stone room behind the great door, your withered ears are filled with a sound of mad piping, and the rhythm of a thousand inconceivable drums. There, upon the throne, is—oh, but
you
cannot say it! You cannot even think it!

But it has a face, if you could call it that, and the face laughs; the craggy monument of moss and flesh is fluttering in its joy, delighted by the horror which dances before it.

A dance! A dance not unknown to you, perhaps glimpsed in passing in a dream, perhaps imagined in the fever of an endless nightmare. Like a mad puppet, like a thing possessed, the gray jester of this infernal court is thrashing its limbs upon the age-cracked floor. All else is monstrous, unnameable, amphibian and colossal in their size. But
this—

this dancer, when its face turns back, you cannot help but know. It is a face you glimpsed in scummed pools, in shards of blood-stained glass. The visage which the infernal book made wane away, whose vanishment you cursed with every breath—

for now it is you, the monster, that is the slavering servant of the beast divine. And this infernal, mad jester bears your face, grotesque, ruined by the gaze of ten thousand evil things.

Your book expands, like living flesh, like a sigh.