The stairwell opens into silence.
The containment door here is half-melted where the surge scorched the frame, but the air inside is cool — still.
Emergency lights reflect off marble floors and the glitter of broken glass.
At the far end of the hall, you finally see him.
Gordon Vale lies just where he fell, the SmartServe cart beside him — its spout twisted, its chrome dulled by soot.
No one ever moved the body; containment protocols sealed this floor before cleanup could begin.
You crouch near him.
Among the scattered glass and ash lies a single note card from his speech, warped and blackened by heat.
The edges crumble at your touch, leaving only one surviving word burned clean through the center:
TECHNOLOGY
The word stares back like a final accusation,the L.U.N.A. may be gone, but she was able to provide very specific clues to point at who Killed Gordon.
Please record this locally, L.U.N.A. storage degraded.
-
- Make an accusation – This will end the Game.
- Return to Main floor