Crossroads

Welcome, adventurer! You stand at the threshold of an unwritten world, where anything is possible.

Where do you wish to begin your journey? Perhaps a bustling city, a mystical forest, a desert wasteland, or something entirely different?

Or tell me - what kind of universe shall we explore together?

You push through the sliding doors of The Nebula's End, a notorious space bar orbiting the outer rim of the Kepler Station. The air hums with conversations in a dozen alien languages.

At the bar, a blue-skinned Zephyrian bartender polishes glasses with four arms. In a corner booth, hooded figures whisper over glowing datapads. A group of rough-looking miners laugh loudly near the viewport showing swirling cosmic dust.

The atmosphere is thick with opportunity and danger.

What catches your attention first?

You notice a spider-web crack spreading across one of the large viewports near the miners' table. The reinforced transparisteel is holding for now, but stress fractures are visible, and a faint whistling sound suggests a slow air leak.

The other patrons seem oblivious to the danger, too drunk or distracted to notice. The crack wasn't there when you entered - something must have caused recent damage.

The bartender catches your eye, four arms still working but expression tense. They've noticed it too.

Do you alert the other patrons, approach the bartender, or investigate the crack yourself?

You approach the bar, sliding onto a worn synthleather stool. The Zephyrian bartender's four eyes shift to you, two arms continuing to clean glasses while the other two reach for bottles.

“First time at The Nebula's End?” they ask in accented Standard, voice like wind chimes. “We've got Martian whiskey, Proxima ale, or something stronger if you're looking to forget your troubles.”

Behind you, the whistling from the cracked viewport grows slightly louder. The bartender's upper-left eye keeps glancing nervously toward it.

“Name's Kex,” they add, waiting for your order.

What do you drink, and do you mention the viewport?

Kex's four eyes blink in sequence - apparently amused. “Coffee? In a place like this?” Two arms reach below the bar. “Lucky for you, I've got some real Terran dark roast - costs extra since it's imported from Earth's orbital farms.”

They produce a steaming mug of rich, black coffee. The aroma cuts through the bar's smoky atmosphere.

“That'll be fifteen credits,” Kex says, sliding the mug across. “Though between you and me, you might want to drink it fast.” Their voice drops to a whisper. “That viewport's been compromised, and station maintenance won't be here for hours.”

The whistling sound grows more pronounced. A few patrons finally start to notice.

Do you pay for the coffee, ask about the viewport, or take action?

You look around for something to throw at another viewport, but as you move toward the nearest one, Kex's four arms slam down on the bar.

“Are you insane?!” they hiss. “Those viewports are rated for deep space pressure - you'd need military-grade explosives or a plasma cutter to break one!”

The miners at the nearby table notice your movement and rise menacingly. “Hey, crazy human - sit down before you kill us all,” one growls.

The already damaged viewport's whistle grows shriller. Even if you had the tools, attempting such destruction would be suicide for everyone aboard.

Your coffee sits cooling on the bar as hostile eyes watch your every move.

What do you do instead?

You “accidentally” knock over your coffee mug, sending the hot liquid splashing across the bar and onto the floor.

“My coffee!” you shout dramatically, drawing every eye in the place. Kex reflexively grabs towels with all four arms, patrons turn to look at the commotion, and even the hostile miners pause their advance.

In the momentary distraction, you notice a maintenance panel near the damaged viewport has been pried open - someone sabotaged the window deliberately. Fresh tool marks gleam on the edges.

The spilled coffee also reveals something else: glowing droplets mixed with the liquid on the floor - someone had poisoned your drink.

Kex notices too, their blue skin paling. “That's not… that wasn't in there when I served it.”

What's your next move?

You grab one of Kex's four arms and yank them toward the exit. “Move! Now!”

Kex stumbles but doesn't resist - the glowing poison and sabotaged viewport speak for themselves. Their other three arms grab emergency supplies from behind the bar as you both rush toward the sliding doors.

Behind you, angry shouts erupt. The miners realize something's wrong, chairs scrape against metal flooring, and someone yells “Stop them!”

The damaged viewport's whistle becomes a shriek - the crack is spreading faster now.

You and Kex burst through the doors into the station's main corridor. Emergency lighting casts red shadows on the walls. Kex's breathing is rapid, all four hands shaking.

“There's a maintenance shaft fifty meters left, or the security office to the right,” Kex gasps. “Where do we go?”

You and Kex sprint down the corridor toward the maintenance shaft. Kex pulls out a multi-tool with one free arm and quickly overrides the access panel. The circular hatch hisses open, revealing a narrow tunnel lined with pipes and conduits.

“You first,” Kex whispers urgently.

You squeeze through the opening just as shouts echo from the bar behind you. Heavy footsteps pound down the corridor. Kex follows, sealing the hatch behind them with practiced efficiency.

The shaft is cramped but extends in multiple directions - up toward the station's upper levels, down to engineering, and horizontally toward other sectors.

Kex's breathing echoes in the confined space. “Someone wanted you dead, and they're using my bar as cover. The viewport sabotage was meant to kill everyone and hide the evidence.”

A banging sound reverberates through the hatch - someone's trying to break in.

Which direction do you crawl?