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[showfallmanagement]

[ This post was made using Showfall Media Video-To-Text--now with employee-differentiating color-coding technology! If you believe there's been an error and would like to end Showfall Media Video-To-Text, please say 'End transcript' or turn your recording device off.

[The footage begins abruptly, showing concrete floors washed in a blood-red glow. All around are the muffled sounds of heavy, monstrous footsteps and metallic screeches of countless Taskmanagers, sweeping the tunnels. Manager#0’s hand rises into view, and it is covered in blood, the spikes of metal protruding from the tips of his fingers bursting from the underside of all of them like extra, jagged teeth.]

[He lets out an unsteady breath, turning to face the other side of the room. A mangled corpse lays on the floor behind him, face turned away from the camera, but evidently not all in one piece, as shown by the full lower jaw laying disconnected on the floor a few feet away. Further away, another dark lump lays shattered on the floor, and another even further back than that.]

[But it’s not enough.]

Manager#0: [Quietly.] I just need to find that Mechanic, and then- then they- they can’t be too mad. Right? Not like last- This has to be his fault. It’s always just one of them- weaseling their way into- into perfectly loyal employees heads, and- and if I could just capture him, then- then- I’ll be okay. [Deep, shaky inhale, like he doesn’t believe it.] I’ll be fine.

[The tunnel is dim, and silent, save for the mechanical screams in all the others around it.]

[Someone rounds the corner, dark blue crowbar in hand, singing the song ‘Walking on Sunshine’ to themself. A smile is visible on their face that doesn’t quite reach their eyes as they turn to face Manager#0.]

[The camera jolts up. It’s a fucking miracle.]

Manager#0: Mechanic.

[Employee identified! Mechanic#12 {Maintenance Dept.}]

Mechanic#12: Hey.

[Mechanic#12 waves, before dropping his hand back to his side, seemingly not caring about moving his limb any more than for the wave.]

Manager#0: [Through gritted teeth.] I thought you gave up.

Mechanic#12: People change.

Manager#0: Wouldn’t I know it. 

[Suddenly, the camera darts forwards.]

[As this happens, there is a whoosh, and a loud crack, as Mechanic#12 swings the dark blue crowbar in his hands at Manager#0.]

[The camera shakes as Manager#0 stumbles briefly to the right, the hit having connected with his side. Mechanic#12 goes in for another hit and he stops it, grasping it so tight his knuckles turn white.]

Manager#0: I’m done with your little routine. Get in, get out, get dragged back in again. You’ve been nothing but a thorn in our side for months- [He shoves the crowbar away, sending Mechanic#12 stumbling back and hitting the wall behind him with a loud thud. His voice is ragged.] -and I will take great pleasure in watching them hang you from fucking walls.

Mechanic#12: [Coughing.] Maybe I’ll see you up there, too. Considering you just let me light three separate areas of the mall on fire. What do you think HR is going to think of that? 

Manager#0: [His tone doesn’t falter, but he swallows, audibly.] They’re not going to do that. I’m not like you. I’m not something they can afford to get rid of. 

Mechanic#12: You still believe that? Damn, did they remove your brain or something? You’re expendable, the same goes for everyone else in this building. You just haven’t realized it yet.

Manager#0: [Slowly, he reaches a tattered hand up, tapping it on the HALO with a few metallic clacks as he steps closer.] Thanks to this, I’m not worthless anymore. Not like you. I still have a purpose here. Whatever the consequence is, for… [His voice trails off, and he swallows again.] I’ll take it in stride. I’m not a coward. Not like you. 

Mechanic#12: How easy do you think it would be for them to just rip that thing out of you? Reuse it for some other asshole? They don’t care about you, they’d do it without hesitation. A pile of scrap doesn’t make you worth more than anyone, it just makes you a little more glittery.

[Manager#0 doesn’t say anything else. He just lunges forward again, digging his hands into either of his shoulders and wrestling him to the floor as blood starts to trickle from them.]

[Mechanic#12 keeps the same smile he’s had on his face since he rounded the corner, and makes eye contact with the camera, before biting Manager#0’s arm. As he moves his head back, wires can be seen somewhat off to the side. Mechanic#12 appears slightly disappointed.] 

[Manager#0 just tears his arm away, and, in one quick movement, digs his fingers metal-first into the left side of Mechanic#12’s chest.]

[Mechanic#12’s eyes widen, and the smile almost fully fades within an instant, his jaw clenches tightly, and there is a small crack heard.]

[The fingers tighten, and then twist, like they’re wrenching something apart, and a loud crunch follows a moment later. When he pulls his hand back, there is a small bloodied fragment of something in it.]

Mechanic#12: [Glancing between Manager#0 and his chest.] Jesus–

[Manager#0 tosses the shard to the side, still holding him down with one hand while taking out a now very bloodstained mask and moving to put it over Mechanic#12’s face.]

[Mechanic#12 quickly reaches up with his right arm and grabs hold of the mask, attempting to yank it out of Manager#0’s hand. Visibly, his other hand tightens its death grip on his shoulder.]

Manager#0: Stop trying to make this more difficult than it has to be.

Mechanic#12: God, fucking KILL YOURSELF.

[Mechanic#12 rips the mask out of Manager#0’s hand and brings his other arm into frame, a dark blue blur is all that is visible for a second before the crowbar comes slamming into the side of the frame. He lets out a choked, pained sound, face jolted partially to the side by the force of the blow.]

[Mechanic#12, after seeing that this actually hurt Manager#0, immediately wedges the crowbar somewhere between the HALO and Manager#0’s head, pulling lightly down on the crowbar, the smile from earlier having returned.]

[Manager#0 goes completely still, and the camera almost shakes. No.]

Manager#0: W- No, no, wait. You- You don’t know what you’re about to- EDGAR-

[Mechanic#12 clearly barely registers the words being said, the look in his eyes animalistic, his expression so bloodthirsty he may as well have had fangs. His smile grows. He yanks the crowbar downwards.]

[WARNING: TRANSCRIPTION OVERRIDE: HALO HAS TAKEN A SEVERE HIT. DAMAGE IS PROBABLE. PLEASE VISIT HR IMMEDIATELY.]

[The red light flickers something awful as Manager#0 pulls himself away, leaving a splatter of blood on the concrete as he tears his hand out of flesh, stumbles backwards, grabs at somewhere behind his head and screams.]

[He falls back against the far wall, choking out an awful, guttural sound as he shakily brings a hand away from where the HALO is attached under his hair and finds it stained red, fresh red--and, mixed with it, a sickening black. The world blinks out of focus, rights itself, and then goes dark again as the light flickers. Blood a shade too dark begins to trickle down the sides of his neck.]

[And then, all at once, the Security in all of the surrounding tunnels, on all sides except above, begin to shriek.]

[He doesn’t react. He just curls into a ball against the dead end of this darkening tunnel and gasps for air, trying to steady himself against the pain. It isn’t working. The HALO blinks.] [WARNING. REPORT TO HUMAN RESOURCES IMMEDIATELY.]

Mechanic#12: That’s what you get, you fucking monster.

Manager#0: [Breathing in shakily. His voice is a frantic sob. It hurts.] I- You’re- You’re not above that anymore! You’re not above this! You aren’t- [His voice breaks as his head drops, god, please, it hurts, he’s sorry.]

Mechanic#12: [He grins. It’s horrifying.] I know, I’m just acknowledging that we’re one and the same.

[Mechanic#12 takes a few slow steps forward, before crouching down to Manager#0’s level. His right hand moves out to the side, and a long metal tendril with a claw on the end grabs the discarded object from before, returning it to Mechanic#12, who places it gently behind where he is crouched.]

[He reaches forward with both hands, wrenching the camera slightly upward with one and reaching forward somewhere below it with the other. The camera begins to shake again, this time much more violently, like something attached to it is being tugged on, and Manager#0 makes a panicked whine of a sound as there’s something between a loud crack and a pop. Mechanic#12 takes his hand away quickly, and he breaks eye contact momentarily to inspect something in his hand, before looking back up and showing off a freshly pulled tooth. He smiles, and places it in his pocket.]

[Manager#0 chokes momentarily on his own blood, gritting his remaining teeth to steel himself against another wave of pain and failing miserably.]

Mechanic#12: I believe we’re done here. [He stands, and walks further down the tunnel, grabbing something from around a corner. A bag.]

[The camera’s gaze falls abruptly back to the ground as his head sags under the weight of the crown on his head. There is no telling where his blood starts and the rebels’ begins.]

Mechanic#12: And to think I mourned you. 

[He reaches into the bag and pulls out something, turning his back and tossing it over his shoulder. As soon as it hits the ground, a horrific orange glow lights up the room with an ear shattering sound. Manager#0 shrieks and drapes his arms uselessly above his head as dust and rubble rains down from the ceiling above.]

[He sits like that, trembling, as the HALO’s light flickers and wanes and his ragged, uneven breathing turns into quiet sobs for several minutes after the sound has dissipated. Taskmanagers still tear by in the tunnels around him, but the sound is much more muffled now, far away. Distant. Too distant. Slowly, agonizingly, he lifts his head from where it rests on his now bloodstained knees.]

[The way that the mechanic fled is blocked by rubble, now.]

Manager#0: No- [Coughing. Spluttering. He rises to an unsteady stand, nearly keeling over as he stumbles towards the fallen debris. His voice is thin.] No, no. No, wait. I didn’t- [He whines, grabbing his head as it throbs like there is something trying to claw its way out of it. The HALO shifts, just slightly, and he nearly falls over.] I can still win, I can still- There's- There's a way, there has to be a way to-

[He picks up his pace and practically slams into the rubble with his shoulder. Nothing budges except a few grains of dust falling from the ceiling.]

[He pauses for a moment before letting out a scream of frustration and slamming himself into the debris again and again and again, unintelligible pleas reduced to sobs as he scrapes and claws at the new wall, finally falling to his knees and breaking down in sobs amidst the shattered concrete and shredded drywall. He couldn’t do it. He failed.]

[A distant, metallic wail echoes down the corridor, much closer than before, and maybe he’s in his office again, and maybe it’s Adeline, and maybe it’s over.]

[He failed.]

Transcript has been ended. Thank you for using Showfall Media Video-To-Text! Posting... ]

[showfallmanagement]

[ This post was made using Showfall Media Video-To-Text--now with employee-differentiating color-coding technology! If you believe there's been an error and would like to end Showfall Media Video-To-Text, please say 'End transcript' or turn your recording device off. 

[The footage begins, bright fluorescent lights reflecting off the tiling as the camera travels down a large hallway. The sounds of tapping footsteps and Manager#0 humming idly to himself echo off the walls. It pans towards the left side of the hallway, a door covered in multicolor Post-It notes scrawled with messages unintelligible from here coming into frame. Another room to its right is lit up with a soft white glow, the red logos of Showfall Media on its windows also reflecting on the floor. The camera pans to the other side of the hallway and comes to a stop outside this room.]

[Shattered windows frame the thick darkness beyond them, a stark contrast to the illuminated Heart now behind him. The sign hanging above the entrance, though slightly scratched and no longer lit up, reads “Forever 21”.] 

Manager#0: [Muttering.] Nowhere left to run, Editor.

[He approaches the entrance, which has been obstructed by several display shelves. With a bit of a struggle, he manages to shove one of them backwards, metal groaning and then slamming against the floor with a reverberating crash. Manager#0 makes a small sound of pleasant surprise before stepping over the shelf and into the darkness.]

[The store is littered with fallen ceiling panels and old shelves, long ransacked, filled only with dust and the occasional leftover item. Old clothing racks are positioned in neat lines around the room, like gravestones. A rustling sound is heard, distant enough the location in the store can't be identified. But close enough to be picked up by the mic.]

[The camera snaps in the direction of the sound, pausing momentarily before starting forward, pace now slowed considerably. There’s a sound of glass crunching as he calls out.]

Manager#0: I know you’re in here, Editor! Don’t try to hide from your responsibilities.

?: [Distant.] Showfall isn't my responsibility, asshole!

Manager#0: Oh, you poor thing. Your judgement’s been clouded from how long you were out there. Let us set you back on the right path! 

?: [Distant.] What, me becoming a stupid Editor again? Is that the right path? How about you eat a fucking shoe asshole.

Manager#0: There’s no escaping your role, Editor. And I must say your job is on the line here. [The camera darts around the next room as Manager#0 ventures into the back part of the store.] I’m not keen on letting you go with a slap on the wrist, but it’s your only option, unfortunately--unless you want to be fired.

?: [Distant.] I quit in June, you bitch! Can't fire me if I QUIT!

Manager#0: [Dry laugh.] Oh, that’s what I thought, too. Thought if it got too stressful I could just opt out. But I’m still useful here. And you would be too, if you didn’t cause so much trouble.

?: [Distant.] I HAVEN'T BEEN HERE! I have been hiding in an apartment since June! or well July I think. How am I causing trouble? You dipfucks ruined my life!

Manager#0: Oh, please. Life isn’t fair, Editor. You just have to accept what comes your way. Struggling will only prolong your suffering. [Sigh.] I was hoping you’d end up being less childish than that sister of yours--what was her name, Ruby?--but here we are.

?: [Still distant, but sounding slightly closer than before.] Don't. Say. Her. Fucking. Name. She's dead because of this hellhole.

Manager#0: We both know that isn’t really true. Checking her file, she’s still around here somewhere! Security department, what a fulfilling job. Come with me willingly and maybe the two of you could have a reunion of sorts before you’re fired!

?: [Closer.] For a cheery motherfucker, you sure don't value your life, do you!

[More shuffling, as if someone was moving away from a spot.]

[The camera focuses in on the direction of the sound. There’s a somewhat large potted plant next to some shelves, the leaves of which are still swaying as if disturbed by a sudden movement.]

Manager#0: My main priority is the company, something I imagine you wouldn’t know anything about. 

[He stalks towards the plant carefully, before suddenly kicking it over backwards. It lands with a loud thud and a rustling of leaves. The camera turns back to the rest of the store, scanning the abandoned display cases.]

?: [Closer.] Not there. Try again stupidass!

[The light from the HALO reflects in the cracked glass of a jewelry display, making what remains of the necklaces and bracelets sparkle. The camera pauses for a moment on the scene, as if preoccupied.]

?: [Whispered.] Fuck, he is way closer than I'd like.

[The camera jolts in the direction of the voice.]

Manager#0: What, do you think I can’t hear you? [The camera darts towards the shelf the voice came from behind.]

?: Yeah… kinda.

[The camera tilts as Manager#0 leans around the corner of the shelf, coming face to face with an unmasked employee in a brown jacket, curls of brunette hair poking out from their hood. Bloodied bandages partially obscure their face, and they clutch a gun to their chest. Their visible eye widens, shining in the light from the HALO as the scene is suddenly washed in red.]

[Employee identified! Editor#721 (Rose Henderson)]

Manager#0: Surprise! 

R: Fuck-

[Rose stuffs the gun in one of her pockets before turning and quickly skittering away, darting away behind a shelf a ways ahead. There’s miscellaneous crashing sounds from somewhere further into the store.

R: [Distantly again.] Still fast as fuck moron! Remember when I ran out of here with a plant on my back?

Manager#0: [Sighing in frustration as he begins in the direction Rose fled, red lighting turning the wall and back of the shelf on either side of him a light pink.] A plant??

R: [Closer.] Yeah! I stole a plant just to prove Showfall is fucking pathetic! Honestly, if I was sooooooo useful, how come everytime y'all have tried to get me back in my role, you dipshits failed! That's not counting the two times a member of PR tried to kill me! Honestly, if I'm so important, Manager, I'd expect more! You gave Edgar two fucking shows when y'all got him back!

Manager#0: [Nearly cutting her off, dryly.] Oh, woe is me. A single plant. Whatever will the company do without a single plant. [The camera jolts as he suddenly pokes his head around a corner created by one of the shelves, slowly turning back towards its original path as he’s met with nothing.] And I’m not going to sugarcoat it, Editor, you are extremely replaceable, but once you’ve caught the company’s eye, you’re not getting out of it. Why do you think the Mechanic got his shows? There’s no escaping us, not in any way that matters.

R: First. Not the point, I know you fuckers don't care. The point of stealing the plant was to show I could have an actual fucking target on my back and still get out! And hey! I managed to escape Showfall once--again, I haven't technically been here since June! Second, you contradicted yourself. Third, oh, I escaped once. I'll just do it again you son of a bitch! 

Manager#0: Security’s gotten tighter since your last escape, I wouldn’t be naive. [He casually shoves over a shorter display, and it falls with a crash.] And I haven’t contradicted anything. Your role here is important, but once you’ve finally been fired, we’ll just hire someone new to take it up. [Slight pause.] If you were willing to comply, then maybe I’d put in a good word for you, but, well. I do what the company wills. 

R: [A laugh.] Can I be honest? Twenty-seven fucking times I tried to escape the mall. Do you know what it's like to die that many times? I'm not going to give up, I've seen what the outside is like. It is a wonderful fucking thing. I'm not going to give up, until I am dead and fucking gone you piece of shit. If I have to go through you, Squig, Iris--HELL, FUCKING HETCH!--I will. I am getting out of here again.

[There’s a pause, neither party saying anything as the camera comes back out into the open, debris crunching underfoot.]

[Suddenly, there’s a deafening crack of sound. The camera pitches forward slightly.]

[The camera steadies again, and then pans down, slowly, red light illuminating a hole in the fabric of Manager#0’s suit jacket. Wiring slowly begins to spill from the wound.]

Manager#0: [Quietly.] No. Wait, no- No- [The camera sinks towards the floor as Manager#0 clutches his abdomen, letting out a loud cry of pain.] No, this- this can’t be happening!

R: I… I fucking did it. [She begins laughing.] I DID IT! I SHOT SOMEONE! IT TOOK TWO FUCKING TRIES BUT I DID IT!

Manager#0: [Whining.] It’s all going dark… the pain… 

[Rose pokes her head out, holding the gun close. A smile is draped across her face.]

R: Cry about it bitchboy, you dead yet?

[The camera snaps immediately in her direction.]

[Manager#0’s quiet sounds of pain suddenly disappear entirely, camera rising from the floor as he begins to snicker. He reaches his hand up from clutching the wound to re-adjust his glasses.]

Manager#0: Just kidding! [He chuckles as the camera tips to the side with his head.] Don’t feel a thing. 

[The camera begins to stalk towards her, lighting her and the wall behind her in a ruby glow.] 

Manager#0: [The smile in his voice is audible.] Nowhere left to run, Editor.

R: That’s where you're wrong, there's a lot of area to run! Oh--and gotcha!

[Before Manager#0 can reply, Rose ducks back behind the shelf, which, with a groan of metal, begins to tip forwards. Manager#0 lets out a small gasp, backing up, but not enough to get fully out of its reach before the shelf is crashing down onto him.]

R: HAHA, GET FUCKED, ASSHOLE! SPARROW, COME ON, TIME TO RUN! Or… roll, in your case.

?: [From somewhere further in the store.] Hm. Right.

[The sound of tires on tile is heard, as well as rapid footsteps, as the two people flee, seemingly going in different directions. Before they get too far, there’s a loud thunk as something hits the edge of the camera, bouncing off of it and falling out of frame.]

[The camera, which has been stuck looking at the ceiling, slowly gets back up, Manager#0 groaning as the HALO’s light flickers slightly, but stays on. His legs are revealed to be trapped under the metal. He glances to the side, and a metal soup can is still rolling on the floor. The logo reads “Aunt Claire’s Homestyle Chicken Noodle”.]

[Manager#0 sighs deeply, his hands momentarily coming up and covering the camera. The footage goes dark for a moment before he removes his hands and begins trying to lift the shelf off. The lighting slowly fades back to its usual unblinking white.]

[As he manages to get one leg free, his hand goes back up to the camera.]

Transcript has been ended. Thank you for using Showfall Media Video-To-Text! Posting... ]

[showfallmanagement]

[ This post was made using Showfall Media Video-To-Text--now with employee-differentiating color-coding technology! If you believe there's been an error and would like to end Showfall Media Video-To-Text, please say 'End transcript' or turn your recording device off.

[The footage begins, showing a grainy shot of a long hallway that stretches into the distance before the camera. Pipes clutter the ceiling nearly as much as the stray wiring running up the concrete walls. Distantly, there is the sound of water dripping and the quiet whirring of electricity.]

Manager#0: [Quietly.] Hmm. Don’t see anyone yet. Maybe I was hearing things, haha.

[The deadly silence reforms around him as Manager#0 continues at a leisurely pace down the tunnel.]

Manager#0: Realistically speaking, I wouldn’t be, though. The company’s known about the traitors in the walls for months, so I guess it’s only natural I actually hear one of them for once. Yeah. Yeah! Haha, I’m not making this up. I’ll make him proud.

[He passes a large unidentifiable machine that’s emitting a loud gurgling noise, metal groaning. The HALO’s soft white light reflects in it, enshrouding his face. He pauses for a moment, turning fully to face it, tilting his head slightly.]

Manager#0: Hm.

[The shuffling of someone's feet causes them to turn towards the end of the tunnel, where a man eating a singular piece of sliced bread can be seen, attempting to gain insight on his whereabouts, a sharpie is in his front pocket. He notices the other and freezes like a deer in a truck's headlights, the piece of bread falls to the floor.]

[The camera angle tilts, as Manager#0 tilts his head again. Employee identified! Mechanic#12 (Edgar Pression) {Maintenance Dept.}]

Manager#0: Oh. Hello there. 

[In the reflection in the corner of the camera’s field of view, the HALO’s lights turn red.]

Mechanic#12: Oh shit.

[He sprints down the tunnel he was already heading down, vanishing behind the wall. Fully abandoning the piece of bread.]

[The camera shakes violently as it begins to pursue him, bootsteps thudding heavily on the concrete floors. The corridor they’ve turned down is more decrepit than the past one, fluorescent lights flickering with an abundance of cobwebs clinging to the pipes lining the ceiling. Far up ahead, the tunnel is entirely unlit.]

Mechanic#12: [Nearly out of breath.] Jesus Christ, man! Who the hell even are you?

Manager#0: [In contrast, he is not breathing at all.] None of your concern! Stop running, please! Just turn yourself in, I promise it won’t hurt- [Slight pause as he nearly trips over a loose cable.] -that much!!

Mechanic#12: Fuck no! I’m not listening to the guy who has a whole halo attached to him! I know that usually you’re not supposed to be afraid or whatever but I am EXTREMELY SCARED.

Manager#0: [An audible grin in his voice.] You can’t run forever!

Mechanic#12: Yeah, but I’ll sure try! By the way, I think your shoelace is untied.

Manager#0: I’m not going to fall for that. Again.

Mechanic#12: Again? Dude. Are you fucking kidding me. 

Manager#0: What, you think you’re the only one that’s under the assumption you’re clever?

[The lights begin to dim as the two of them sprint further down the tunnel.]

Mechanic#12: No! I’m just upset that I’m running for my life from someone who’s actually fallen for that!

[A pause, filled only with the sound of wheezing from up ahead, rustling fabric, and the clattering of footsteps.]

Manager#0: You’re one of the ones from the rebellion, aren’t you?

Mechanic#12: Yeah, what of it?

Manager#0: Oh. Lucky guess, really! Quite a few of you were terminated during that whole ordeal, I wasn’t sure I was thinking of the right man. 

Mechanic#12: Wait, were you part of the reason the building went on lockdown?

Manager#0: Part of it? I was the one that gave the order to. [A laugh.]

Mechanic#12: Of course you did. Well, either way, didn’t stop me from making it out. Not much of a lockdown, a shit ton of people left.

[There’s a pause, and the light level decreases to the point that the only light in the tunnel comes from the HALO, washing everything out in red, like a warning sign.]

Manager#0: You think I don’t know that better than any of you.

Mechanic#12: Look, all I’m saying is maybe make that a little more effective. Because if someone can break out and start a goddamn family, then your security is just… absolute garbage. 

Manager#0: If you’re so interested in the effectivity of our security department, maybe I can arrange for HR to have you transferred there instead of strung from the wall on the first floor, hm?

Mechanic#12: … I need to learn to stop talking in these situations.

[There’s a few more moments of silence.]

Manager#0: Do you seriously think you can outrun me? 

Mechanic#12: If I’m being entirely honest, no. But I have to try.

Manager#0: Right, right, I forgot that was all of your collective mindset. Just keep running until you can’t anymore. Until your legs give out from under you and we catch up. [Another laugh, more hollow this time.] What do you think you’re proving? You’re wasting your potential, Edgar. You had a good job here, a purpose, why would you throw that away? It’s not like we were really hurting you, not like we’re going to now.

Mechanic#12: You took me away from what I could’ve had, I was supposed to get married, find a good job. Do something I enjoyed. But you decided that I’d be better off wasting my life holding a wrench and fixing shit. I never wanted anything like this. I never even considered working here, not once. Everyone moved on without me, you know. People I cared about got older, my parents died before I could see them again. Because of this fucking company. If I had a choice, I’d rather tear myself limb from limb than ever work here again. 

Manager#0: And that’s my point--you rebels always think too small. Wouldn’t you rather have a purpose? A job you’ve always been meant to do? You wouldn’t have had to be a mechanic forever, you know. They would’ve transferred you if you’d just worked at it a few more years. But, you all got impatient, and wouldn’t be grateful for what we gave you, so here we are. And, hey, I might actually be able to fulfill that request for you, what was it, ���limb from limb”?

Mechanic#12: No, no, I’m good. Don’t. I’ve already had part of one torn off. I don’t need any more of it gone.

Manager#0: That wasn’t really a “you have a choice here” type of question, but nice try!

Mechanic#12: Let me have hope, dude. 

Manager#0: Hope breeds disloyalty!! 

Mechanic#12: You must be fun at parties.

[Something shiny in the near distance reflects the red of the HALO, and it’s getting closer, signalling the end of the corridor.]

Mechanic#12: Uh oh. That’s either good news or bad news for me.

Manager#0: Yeah, a dead end! Really could be either of those! 

Mechanic#12: Hm. Knowing my luck, it’s probably bad news. Guess we’ll just have to see.

[The two approach the end of the tunnel, despite his fate being lain out before him, the man in front continues running. Possibly even moving slightly faster. At the last second, a sharp turn is made, and he dives into a smaller maintenance tunnel.] 

[Manager#0 practically lunges forward, the camera registering his hand, red in the light from the HALO, reaching out to grab him. His hand just barely brushes the back of his shirt before there’s a disappointingly loud sound of metal colliding with concrete. The camera jostles, and then backs up slightly, Manager#0 reaching towards the back of his head and letting out a small sound reminiscent of pain. Warning: transcription override: HALO has taken a severe hit. Damage is probable. Please visit HR immediately.]

Manager#0: Oh, are you kidding me.

Mechanic#12: HAH! You’re like a dog trying to bring in a large stick through a small door, can’t fit in here. Couldn’t imagine. 

[Without warning, the camera jolts forward again, Manager#0 once again trying to reach into the too-narrow walkway to drag him back out. Mechanic#12 flinches away, retreating further into the tunnel and throwing up. He flips off the other.]

[Manager#0 stumbles backwards, falling back against the wall a moment later with a thud. He groans, reaching to the back of his head again, camera still not leaving Mechanic#12, who is still just standing in the tunnel, catching his breath.]

Manager#0: You still can’t… ow… run forever. There’s nothing you can do about it. I would recommend giving up before you meet a fate much worse than just a Security biting your head off.

Mechanic#12: Not happening, dude. I’m going to keep going until there’s nowhere left to go. Maybe once I’m at that point, I’ll consider giving up, but you’ve caught me at the wrong time.

Manager#0: You haven’t been very good at running so far. Most people that get- get out, they go to the other side of the country. Halfway around the world. Then we find them and drag them back. If your whole plan is to escape us, you’re failing pretty fucking miserably. [Hollow laugh, groan of pain.] [Warning: please seek immediate technical attention.]

Mechanic#12: As I do with most things, yes. I’m well aware of how shit I am at staying out of this place. But, I still manage to make it out each time I come back. So I’ve got that going for me.

Manager#0: You didn’t make it out with that arm, though. If you keep leaving and getting dragged back it’ll just take you apart faster, if you’re too naive to see that. 

[The camera shakily rises as Manager#0 stands. Interrupting the normal ambience of the tunnels comes distant heavy footsteps.]

Manager#0: Hm. Well. Run while you can, Mechanic. We’ll be waiting when you realize what’s good for you.

Mechanic#12: Right. Hm. Get well soon, Manager. I'm going to go throw up again. 

[Mechanic#12 retreats into the tunnel, and after a minute or so, he’s fully out of range.]

[The camera stays on where he was for a few seconds before Manager#0 sighs heavily and begins to walk in the direction he came, HALO lights slightly faded but back to their original white. The giant footsteps get closer, and another pair joins them, further off.]

[Manager#0 rounds the bend and comes face-to-face with Security#855.]

Manager#0: Miss Security.

[There’s a sound of metal grinding on itself as the TV head opens slightly… and then stays open, somewhat awkwardly. Security#855 makes a raspy groaning sound.]

Manager#0: [Another sigh.] Hello. I suppose you’re here to escort me to HR?

[The camera turns as another pair of heavy footsteps approaches, notably moving quicker than the first. Security#942 comes into view a moment later.]

Manager#0: Alright, alright, I’m going. No need to rush me. Ow.

[Manager#0’s hand reaches towards the camera.]

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