*
*
*
*
(align:"=><=")[Curse of Andong]
(align:"=><=")[[Play]]
(align:"=><=")[[Options]]
(align:"=><=") [Quit]
(align:"=><=") [[Credits & Fact Check]]
(click:"Quit")[
(open-url: "https://explore.org/livecams/cats/kitten-rescue-cam")]
(set: $mute to false)
(set: $hideText to false)
(set: $lightMode to false)
(css: "font-size: 70%")[ (set: $MaskProgress to 3)
Darkness coils around you, shifting like ink in water. You are not alone.
Before you stand three figures, they loom above, their robes flowing like mist, their voices neither spoken nor heard, but felt deep in your bones.
*"$MaskProgress masks shall be made. $MaskProgress faces carved in secrecy. This is your duty, Hur."*
The weight of their decree presses upon you like a mountain. Disobedience is not an option. The fate of the village, your own fate—everything rests on your hands.
A shadow lingers at the edge of the void, watching. [[You don't not belong here|here]].
]
(set: $SanityLevel to 100)
(set: $Inventory to (datamap:
"Wood", 1, "Paint", 1, "Carving Tools", 1, "Jar of Lacquer", 0 ) )
(set: $Rebellion to false)
(prompt: "What is your name?", "Hur")
(dialog: "You have been chosen, Hur") *
*
*
*
(align:"=><=")[Curse of Andong]
(align:"=><=")[[Play]]
(align:"=><=")[[Options]]
(align:"=><=") [Quit]
(click:"Quit")[
(open-url: "https://explore.org/livecams/cats/kitten-rescue-cam")]
(if: $mute)[ (link:" Unmute")[(set: $mute to false)]🔊]
(if: not $mute)[(link:" Mute")[(set: $mute to true)] 🔇]
(if: $hideText)[ (link:" Show Text")[(set: $hideText to false)]📝]
(if: not $hideText)[(link:" Hide Text")[(set: $hideText to true)] ❌]
(if: $lightMode )[ (link:" Dark Mode")[(set: $lightMode to false)]🌙]
(if: not $lightMode )[(link:" Light Mode")[(set: $lightMode to true)] ☀️]
(link:"Back to Main Menu")[(goto: "start1")]
(css: "font-size: 70%")[ (set: $SanityLevel to it -20) ''[Sanity: $SanityLevel]''
You wake on your workdesk, the whispers of the dream still clinging to your mind. The scent of pinewood and candle wax grounds you in reality. Your workshop stands untouched, a wooden log lays before you.
The gods' command weighs heavy on your chest. The log is waiting—your hands itch to carve, yet doubt gnaws at the edges of your thoughts.
^^What will you do? ^^
[[Begin carving immediately]] | [[Take a moment to process]]
[[Step outside briefly to clear your mind]] | [[Go back to sleep]]
(link: "Check inventory")[
(alert: "$Inventory")
]
(dialog: "The Gods Have Spoken")
]''[Sanity: $SanityLevel]'' (css: "font-size: 70%")[
There is no room for hesitation
You step toward your workstation, the raw wood waiting for your hands. The tools gleam under the dim candlelight. You must begin.
[[Roughly outline the features of the mask( No risk)|OutlineMask]] / [[Focus on the finer details immediately (More risk)|DetailMask]]
(link: "Check inventory")[
(alert: "$Inventory")
] ]
(css: "font-size: 70%")[''[Sanity: $SanityLevel]''
The gods have spoken. The decree is clear. And yet… your hands remain still.
The tools are laid before you, waiting. The block of wood sits expectantly, its surface smooth and unmarked. But something in you hesitates. What if your hands falter? What if the gods find your work unworthy?
The flickering candle casts jagged shadows across the walls. The unfinished masks stare back, their hollow eyes unreadable. Are they urging you forward… or warning you?
You must decide.
[[Begin carving immediately]]
[[Step outside briefly to clear your mind]]
[[I will rebel]]
[[Go back to sleep]]
](css: "font-size: 75%")[ (set: $SanityLevel to it +10) ''[Sanity: $SanityLevel]''
[As you step beyond the threshold, the cool night air rushes against your skin. The village is eerily silent, the only sound being the distant rustling of trees. You see the forest - where you gather wood for your sculptures, but a more tempting action is to just walk away and finally be done with it all.
[[Step into the forest]] | [[Turn back to the workshop]] | [[Walk away from it all]]
] ]<img src="https://i.imgur.com/O2zyY8Y.png" style="display:block; margin:auto; width:100%;">
<p style="text-align:center; font-size:0.95em;">Hur lays back down, sinking into a dream he never wakes from.</p>
(link:"Restart")[(goto: "start")] | [Quit]
(click:"Quit")[
(open-url: "https://explore.org/livecams/cats/kitten-rescue-cam")]<img src="https://imgur.com/pPmXgSH.png" style="display:block; margin:auto; width:80%; max-height:600vh; margin-top:-9vh;">
<p style="text-align:center; font-size:0.70em; margin-top:-8vh;">
Having had enough of the esoteric, you brush off the visions and get ready to start a new life but first you need to pack for-
*"You defy the decree."* a whisper pierces your left ear
Your heart gives out and you hear the sound of bells approaching, in your last moments you sit down and stare at the reflection of the man you've become.
<b>Game Over</b> | (link:"Restart")[(goto: "start")] | [Quit]
(click:"Quit")[
(open-url: "https://explore.org/livecams/cats/kitten-rescue-cam")]
</p> <iframe width="1" height="1"
src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9HZxWNoyTJY?autoplay=1"
frameborder="0" allow="autoplay"></iframe>
(css: "font-size: 75%")[ (if: $SanityLevel >= 70)[As you step towards the workshop, chills roll down your spine ^^''I would hurry if I were you''^^ a whisper embeds itself into your mind. You look around to find no one near you, with caution you enter the cabin]
(else:)[You step hurriedly back into your cabin, pulling the door shut behind you. The familiar scent of wood shavings and lacquer fills your lungs, grounding you in reality.
Your workshop is small but meticulously arranged. Wooden masks some complete, others in various stages of carving rest on shelves along the walls. Your tools, sharpened and worn with use, lie neatly beside blocks of alder wood. A single lantern flickers overhead, casting shifting shadows across the room.
The straw rope barrier outside rustles faintly, as if something lingers just beyond. ]
[[Begin carving]] | [[Go to sleep|Go back to sleep]]
(link: "Check inventory")[
(alert: "$Inventory")
]
]
(css: "font-size: 70%")[
You step toward your workstation, fidgeting with the raw wood waiting for your hands. The tools gleam under the dim candlelight. You must begin.
A single candle flickers beside your tools: a sharp carving knife, a chisel, and fine brushes for detailing. The wood before you is sturdy, waiting to take shape under your hands.
What will you do first?
[[Roughly outline the features of the mask|OutlineMask]] | [[Focus on the finer details immediately|DetailMask]]
]
''[Sanity: $SanityLevel]''
(if: $Inventory's "Wood" >= 1)[You choose to be careful and focus on creating the outline of the mask. It feels like it was only yesterday that your father taught you how to make a mask... it feels like it was only yesterday that the elders came and told you he was dead. Before you can ponder further, you notice the outline is done. [[Begin carving the mask]]
]
(else:)[ You don't have any wood for the mask, get more [[Go to workshop|Workshop]]]
''[Sanity: $SanityLevel]''
(if: $SanityLevel >= 90 and $Inventory's "Wood" >= 1)[You maintain focus on your blade, carving into the block of wood, you give it a smug expression and a youthful appeareance. he will be the [[Bachelor]] (set: $Inventory's "Wood" to it -1) ]
(else:)[You lose focus and damage the mask, now you must go to the [[Forest|Step into the forest]] to get new wood (set: $Inventory's "Wood" to it -1)(alert: "You lost 1 wood.") ]
(else-if: $Inventory's "Wood" >= 1)[You need wood in order to make a mask](set: $SanityLevel to it +10)''[Sanity: $SanityLevel]''
As you step into the forest, the scent of damp earth and pine fills your lungs. The moonlight filters through the dense canopy, casting shifting shadows on the ground. After some searching, you find a fallen tree with wood sturdy enough for carving. With effort, you gather several pieces, their rough texture promising the beginning of something new—or something cursed
(link: "Collect Wood")[
(set: $Inventory's "Wood" to it + 1)
(alert: "You have collected 1 wood.")
]
[[Turn back to the workshop]]|[[Walk away from it all]]
(css: "font-size: 70%")[
As you carve and form smooth and unwrinkled skin into the Bachelor, you decide to also give it narrow eyes and an exaggerated nose and chin. The process takes you the entire night but you were too focused to notice. Now all that's missing are the red cheeks and a final touch of lacquer.
]
[[Apply lacquer]]
(if: $Inventory's "Jar of Lacquer" >= 1)[You take out the jar and begin applying the lacquer with your brush, carefully coating the wooden mask and avoiding applying too much. [[The Bachelor is finished]] ]
(else:)[You're missing the lacquer [[Go back to the workshop|Workshop]] ]
<img src="https://imgur.com/lXJPdl1.png" style="display:block; margin:auto; width:80%; max-height:600vh; margin-top:-9vh;"> (css: "font-size: 60%")[ (set: $SanityLevel to it -10) ''[Sanity: $SanityLevel]'' (set: $MaskProgress to it -1)
You lay the mask carefully on the table, its hollow eyes staring at you. The grain of the wood catches in the dim light, accentuating the exaggerated lines of its expression. The face is smooth but eerily hollow, its crooked mouth frozen in an uncertain smirk—half mocking, half hesitant.
This was the first. But, [[it would not be the last]].
[''$MaskProgress masks remaining'' ]] (css: "font-size: 70%")[
You step into your workshop, small but meticulously arranged—chisels and carving knives rest in their designated slots, each tool worn with years of use. Against the far wall, wooden masks in various stages of completion stare blankly, their hollow eyes reflecting the weight of your task.
A thick bundle of straw rope lines the entrance, an unspoken barrier between you and the outside world.
[[Get back to work|Apply lacquer]]|[[Go to the storage room]] | [[Step outside briefly to clear your mind]]
]
(set: $Inventory's "Wood" to it -1) [(alert: "You used 1 wood.")] (css: "font-size: 70%")[As you carve and form smooth and unwrinkled skin into the Bachelor, you decide to also give it narrow eyes and an exaggerated nose and chin. The process takes you the entire night but you were too focused to notice. Now all that's missing are the red cheeks and a final touch of lacquer
]
[[Apply lacquer]]
(css: "font-size: 60%")[ ''Disclaimer''
This game is a work of fiction inspired by the Hahoe masks and their cultural significance. While the game draws from historical elements, characters, and legends, it does not claim to be an accurate representation of real events or traditions. Some aspects, including the order and nature of the masks, have been altered or reinterpreted for narrative purposes.
(click:"here")[(open-url: "https://folkency.nfm.go.kr/en/topic/detail/1438")]
For accurate historical and cultural information about the Hahoe masks and their significance, you can read more [here]
Credits:
Art & Visual Design
//[DALL-E] //
Music & Sound Design
//[Youtube, Dalt0kki] //
Special Thanks
//[My Professor for his guidance and patience]//
] <iframe width="1" height="1"
src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9HZxWNoyTJY?autoplay=1"
frameborder="0" allow="autoplay"></iframe> All your life you did what everyone else told you, never being permitted to do what you're interested in, you've been moulded into this role that you never chose to be part of. You make up your mind and
[[I will sabotage the masks]] | [[I will escape|Walk away from it all]] | [[I will complete the masks and be done with it all]]
(css: "font-size: 70%")[ There is no room for obedience
You step toward your workstation, but not as a servant to fate. The raw wood lies waiting, expecting your hands to shape it into something sacred, something worthy.
The tools gleam under the dim candlelight, sharp and patient. They have always been instruments of creation—but they can just as easily be instruments of ruin.
You will carve, but not what the gods desire. [[Tonight, you carve defiance]]
](css: "font-size: 75%")[The night air clings to your skin, thick with the weight of something unseen. Each step back to the workshop feels heavier than the last, the path ahead swallowed by darkness. The distant rustle of leaves follows at your heels, though the wind is still.
By the time you reach the cabin, the wooden door looms before you, its surface rough beneath your fingertips. You push it open. Inside, the air is stale, filled with broken memories.
Just $MaskProgress masks and [[it will all be over|Begin carving immediately]]
]
''[Sanity: $SanityLevel]''
You enter the storage, cramped and suffocating, it's filled with the scent of damp wood lingering in the air. Shadows stretch across the walls, cast by the weak glow of your lantern. Shelves buckle under the weight of forgotten tools and half-used materials, everything coated in a fine layer of dust. You push aside a toppled stack of old brushes, your fingers grazing something firm beneath the clutter whispers emanate from it.
(link: "Reach inside")[
(set: $Inventory's "Jar of Lacquer" to it + 1)
(alert: "Your fingers tremble as you make contact. It is a jar. You pull it out and attach it to your waist.")] | [[Leave storage room|Workshop]]
(link: "Check inventory")[
(alert: "$Inventory")
]
(css: "font-size: 55%")[ (set: $SanityLevel to it -10) ''[Sanity: $SanityLevel]''
A whisper coils through the air, curling around the edges of the mask like breath against cold wood. At first, it’s just a murmur—faint, like wind slipping through the cracks in the walls. But then, the voices swell.
"A fine beginning." "Now $Maskprogress more."
You stiffen. Your grip tightens on the edge of the table, fingers pressing into the worn grain. The voices are neither harsh nor cruel, but they are insistent. Urging. Beckoning you forward.
You swallow hard, your pulse quickening despite the chill creeping down your spine. You already know which mask will come next.
[[Seo-hwa]]
Her name settles in your chest like a weight, heavy yet familiar. Seo-hwa—your childhood sweetheart. The girl who once danced in the autumn leaves, her hair catching the golden light like strands of silk.
]
''[Sanity: $SanityLevel]'' (css: "font-size: 70%")[
(if: $Inventory's "Wood" >= 1) [You carefully select a block of wood, running your fingers over its grain, feeling the weight of it in your hands. This will become the next mask. With a steady breath, you set it before you, [[you're ready to carve.]] (set: $Inventory's "Wood" to it -1)]
(else:)[You need to get wood, [[go to the forest|forest]]]
(link: "Check inventory")[
(alert: "$Inventory")
] ]
'(css: "font-size: 60%")[ ''[Sanity: $SanityLevel]''
The forest feels different this time—darker, heavier, as if the trees themselves are watching. The scent of damp earth clings to the air, laced with something else… something you can’t quite name. Your footsteps are muffled by the thick carpet of fallen leaves as you search.
After a while, you find another fallen tree, its wood firm beneath your touch. You run your fingers over the rough bark before prying a piece free. It feels solid, sturdy—ready to be shaped. But as you hold it, a shiver runs down your spine.
[[Go back to the workshop]] | [[Defy your fate]] | [[Give up|Walk away from it all]]
(link: "Collect Wood")[
(set: $Inventory's "Wood" to it +1)
(alert: "You have collected 1 wood.")
] ]
(css: "font-size: 70%")[ ''[Sanity: $SanityLevel]''
The block of wood is silent, but you feel her beneath the surface, waiting. You begin.
Each cut peels away the excess, shaping the contours of her face. The knife glides with precision—cheeks softened by sorrow, lips pressed in quiet endurance. You carve her downcast eyes, half-lidded, burdened but resolute. A furrow barely visible in the grain, yet deep with unspoken weight.
Her braids come last, uneven and flowing, as if caught in an unseen breeze. Movement, frozen in wood.
When you finally lift the mask, she stares back—unfinished, yet already alive.
[[Apply the lacquer.]] | [[Stop. This isn't right|Defy your fate]]
](css: "font-size: 60%")[The door groans as you push it open, the scent of wood shavings and dried up lacquer wrapping around you like a second skin. The dim light inside barely reaches the far corners of the room, but you don’t need to see. Your hands know the way.
You place the new block of wood on the table beside the first mask. Its hollow eyes stare through you, unmoving, waiting. You swallow hard and reach for your carving tools, the familiar weight settling into your grip.
[[This one will be different|Seo-hwa]].
]
(css: "font-size: 70%")[You step back into your workshop, the air thick with the scent of wood and something less tangible—something heavy, like breath held too long. You sink onto the workbench, but your mind is elsewhere.
Seo Hwa’s voice lingers at the edges of your thoughts, slipping between memory and doubt. Had she truly been here, or was she just another cruel trick of the gods? You don’t know. You might never know. But the weight in your chest remains, a tether to something—someone—you can’t afford to hold onto.
The silence presses in. The masks watch. The whispers crawl through the cracks in the walls.
"You were chosen."
"You will obey."
| ''[[Yes,I will]] '' | ''[[Yes,I will]] ''|''[[Yes,I will]] '' | ''[[Yes,I will]] '' | ''[[Yes,I will]] '' | ''[[Yes,I will]] '' | ^^[[No.]]^^ | ''[[Yes,I will]] '' |
]
(css: "font-size: 70%")[ You set the block of wood before you, but this time you will carve on your terms.
The blade glides over the surface, each stroke stripping away what is expected and leaving only what you choose to remain. You carve a face—not one of reverence or submission, but of sharp edges and knowing eyes. The features take shape, bold and unapologetic. This is no servant’s mask. No puppet for their will.
Before the final touches, you press the tip of your knife into the wood, carving a symbol into its forehead—a mark only you will understand. A quiet rebellion, etched in grain and shadow. - Now for the lacquer
(if: $Inventory's "Jar of Lacquer" >= 1)[You open the lid and pour a handful of lacquer, [[this will do]] ](else:)[You're missing the lacquer [[It doesn't matter]] | [[Look for it]]]
(link: "Check inventory")[
(alert: "$Inventory")
]
]
(css: "font-size: 70%")[The mask stares at you, its carved defiance solidified in wood. The symbol on its forehead stands bold against the grain, a mark of your choice—your rebellion.
Then, the air shifts, a whisper, not from the shadows but from the mask itself. The wood creaks as if taking its first breath.
Faster than thought, the mask lunges—latching onto your face with a force that sends you staggering back. The edges bite into your skin, splinters driving deep. Your hands claw at it, but it does not yield.
Your vision darkens. A voice, hollow and seething, fills your skull - ''(text-colour:red)["you left me unfinished"]''
The mask tightens. The world tilts, then collapses into nothing.]
<b>Game Over</b> | (link:"Restart")[(goto: "start")] | [Quit]
(click:"Quit")[
(open-url: "https://explore.org/livecams/cats/kitten-rescue-cam")]
</p>
<iframe width="1" height="1"
src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9HZxWNoyTJY?autoplay=1"
frameborder="0" allow="autoplay"></iframe>
(css: "font-size: 70%")[You enter the storage, cramped and suffocating, it's filled with the scent of damp wood lingering in the air. Shadows stretch across the walls, cast by the weak glow of your lantern. Shelves buckle under the weight of forgotten tools and half-used materials, everything coated in a fine layer of dust. You push aside a toppled stack of old brushes, your fingers grazing something firm beneath the clutter whispers emanate from it.
(link: "Reach inside")[
(set: $Inventory's "Jar of Lacquer" to it + 1)
(alert: "Your fingers tremble as you make contact. It is a jar. You pull it out and attach it to your waist.")] | [[Leave storage room|workshop]]
(link: "Check inventory")[
(alert: "$Inventory")
]
]<img src="https://imgur.com/McEcAaB.png" style="display:block; margin:auto; width:80%; max-height:600vh; margin-top:-9vh;"> (css: "font-size: 50%")[ (set: $SanityLevel to it -10) ''[Sanity: $SanityLevel]'' (set: $MaskProgress to it -1) (set: $Rebellion to true)
You set the mask down, but it does not rest—it lingers, its hollow eyes seeming to stare straight through you. The grain of the wood ripples under the dim light, warping the exaggerated lines of its expression. The crooked mouth twists, caught between a smirk and a sneer, mocking everything that has led to this moment.
At its temple, carved deep into the grain, is a symbol—your mark, defiant and deliberate. A quiet rebellion etched in wood,[[ hidden in plain sight]].
[''$MaskProgress masks remaining'' ]]
(css: "font-size: 70%")[ You step into your workshop, the air thick with the scent of wood shavings and oil. The chisels and carving knives rest in their designated slots.
Against the far wall, wooden masks in various stages of completion stare blankly, their hollow eyes darker than before, as if aware of your defiance. The flickering candlelight catches their edges, making them seem almost alive, watching, waiting.
At the entrance, the thick bundle of straw rope sways ever so slightly, though there is no breeze. A threshold. A warning. And yet, you step forward.
[[It is time|Tonight, you carve defiance]]
]
(css: "font-size: 70%")[
A sudden knock shatters the silence. Three sharp raps against the wood—steady, deliberate.
You freeze. The workshop feels smaller, the walls pressing in, the candlelight flickering as if sensing something unseen. No one should be here. Not at this hour.
Another knock, harder this time.
Whoever stands beyond that door is waiting.
[[Open the door]] | [[Ignore it]]
](css: "font-size: 70%")[ The door groans as it swings open, revealing Seo Hwa—breathless, wide-eyed, her gaze locking onto yours.
"Hur… please, let me in." Her voice is low, urgent. She glances over her shoulder, as if afraid something unseen is lurking just beyond the trees.
She shouldn’t be here. You haven’t seen her in years—since the death of your father. And yet, here she is, standing before you, real and trembling. Your pulse hammers in your ears, drowning out the whispers that coil in the corners of the room.
The masks watch. The air thickens.
[[Tell her everything]] | [[Demand that she leaves|Tell her to leave before it's too late]]
](set: $SanityLevel to it -30) ''[Sanity: $SanityLevel]'' (css: "font-size: 60%")[
You force yourself to stay still. The knocking persists, each strike against the wood more insistent, more demanding. You can't. You won’t.
The masks stare, their hollow eyes urging you forward, whispering doubts into your mind. But you refuse to listen. You have a purpose—one that cannot be derailed by whoever, or whatever, waits outside.
The silence stretches.
Then, finally, the knocking stops.
But the weight in the air does not lift. If anything, it thickens. Something is still out there. Watching. Waiting.
[[There is no turning back now|Defy your fate]].
](dialog: "(text-colour:(hsl:300,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[Hur...? What is the matter?]", "I can’t stop" ) [[Tell her to leave before it's too late]]
(dialog: "(text-colour:(hsl:300,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[She hesitates, stepping inside, her eyes darting to the masks. Stop what?]", "It doesn’t matter if I want to or not. It doesn’t matter if I bleed or if I scream or if my hands snap like old twigs. They won’t let me stop" )
[[Keep talking. She needs to understand]]
(dialog: "(text-colour:(hsl:300,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[She glances at your trembling hands Who won’t let you?]", "let me show you" )
(dialog: "(text-colour:(hsl:300,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[Hur… you’re scaring me]","You should go")
(dialog: "You swallow the lump in your throat, forcing the words out"," Please leave")
[[Defy your fate]]
(dialog: "(text-colour:(hsl:300,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[Hur...I can help, I don't understand everything but I'm here!]","they won't stop, you need to leave")
(alert: "A long deafening silence takes over the atmosphere, Seo Hwa desperately tries to make eye contact with you but eventually she gives up and walks away")
[[Tell her to leave before it's too late]] | [[Let her stay]]
(dialog: "(text-colour:(hsl:300,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[She exhales, slow and careful. Then tell me. Everything.]", "Your hands shake. You don’t understand, I can’t just—")
(dialog: "(text-colour:(hsl:300,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[She steps forward, her eyes locking onto yours. Then make me understand.]", "The room tightens around you, the weight of it pressing down. You take a shuddering breath and spill everything. The carvings. The voices. The purpose you can’t escape.") (dialog: "(text-colour:(hsl:300,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[Her face pales, but she doesn’t move. And if you finish them—]",
"Then I’ll be free.") (dialog: "(text-colour:(hsl:300,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[You don’t believe that.]", "I have to.") (dialog: "(text-colour:(hsl:300,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[She shakes her head, stepping closer, desperate now. Hur, please. You don’t have to do this alone.]",
"It’s too late.") (dialog: "(text-colour:(hsl:300,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[Then let me stay. Let me be with you when—when it’s done.]", "Seo Hwa—") (dialog: "(text-colour:(hsl:300,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[I won’t leave you. Not now. Not ever.]","You don’t understand. When it’s over, there won’t be anything left.") (dialog: "(text-colour:(hsl:300,0.8039,0.5,0.8))[Then I’ll stay anyway.]", "Her voice is steady. Unwavering. And for the first time, your hands stop shaking.")(css: "font-size: 70%")[ $MaskProgress Masks Re... No.
The word shatters the silence, though you barely recognize it as your own. The workshop tightens around you—walls pressing in, the weight of a hundred empty eyes suffocating. The whispers recoil, twisting into something colder, something furious.
The air vibrates, thick with unseen hands clawing at your resolve. But you won’t bow. Not to them. Not anymore.
Your gaze sweeps across the masks, their carved expressions frozen in judgment, in mockery. They are the chains, the prison. [[And you still hold the knife]]
]
<img src="https://imgur.com/x6QBKxu.png" style="display:block; margin:auto; width:70%; max-height:500vh; margin-top:-9vh;">(css: "font-size: 50%")[(set: $MaskProgress to it +9999999) $MaskProgress Masks Remaining
The words settle into your bones, deep and immovable. You were chosen. You will obey.
The knife slips from your fingers. It doesn’t matter anymore. Choice is an illusion, rebellion a fleeting ember already snuffed out. The gods have carved their will into you, deeper than any chisel could cut. You pick up the next block of wood. Your hands move without thought, guided by something beyond you, something ancient, something endless. The masks watch. They whisper. They demand. Time stops complelely, you carve. And carve. And carve <b>Game Over</b> | (link:"Restart")[(goto: "start")] | [Quit]
(click:"Quit")[
(open-url: "https://explore.org/livecams/cats/kitten-rescue-cam")]
</p>
] <iframe width="1" height="1"
src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9HZxWNoyTJY?autoplay=1"
frameborder="0" allow="autoplay"></iframe>
(if: $Rebellion is true)[It is time, you lift up the mask with the symbol you planted, now all that's left is to [[activate it]] ] (else:)[ (css: "font-size: 60%")[<img src="https://imgur.com/WAfpf6P.png" style="display:block; margin:auto; width:70%; max-height:500vh; margin-top:-9vh;"> You grip the mask, fingers digging into the carved edges. With all your strength, you hurl it to the ground—ready to end it. But it does not break. The wood does not splinter, does not even crack. Instead, the mask shifts, twisting unnaturally as its hollow eyes snap to you. Before you can move, it lunges. A force grips your skull—cold, unyielding. The mask clamps onto your face, suffocating, burrowing into your skin like roots into soil. Your screams are muffled, swallowed by the wood as it fuses with flesh, pulling tighter, tighter— The world darkens. The last thing you hear is a whisper, not from the gods, but from the mask itself. You are mine now.
<b>Game Over</b> | (link:"Restart")[(goto: "start")] | [Quit]
(click:"Quit")[
(open-url: "https://explore.org/livecams/cats/kitten-rescue-cam")]
</p>
] ]
You take a look around the unfinished masks, $MaskProgress masks remaining... A voice twists, not longer whispering but screaming inside of your head.
You press your thumb against the carving. The wood pulses, then cracks. The masks shudder. The workshop groans.
[[It's over]]
(dialog: "You think yourself free?", "You were shaped for this")
(dialog:"You are nothing without us", "This is your destiny")
(dialog:"You hold the marked mask the air is thick, suffocating. The walls seem to close in. But you don’t falter. Your grip tightens. The symbol you carved is yours, and yours alone")
(dialog: "We made you.", "No.")
(dialog: "You will break.", "No.")
(css: "font-size: 55%")[<img src="https://imgur.com/2f7g8Jj.png" style="display:block; margin:auto; width:60%; max-height:600vh; margin-top:-9vh;"> The symbol flares to life beneath your thumb, searing with an unseen force. A crack splits through the mask, then another—until it bursts apart in a shower of splinters, the fragments swallowed by the collapsing floor.<iframe width="1" height="1" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/2LPYtB-naj8?autoplay=1"frameborder="0" allow= "autoplay"></iframe>
The workshop groans, beams snapping like brittle bone, walls crumbling into the hungry earth. Dust thickens the air, but beneath it is something heavier—something unraveling.
You don’t wait. You lunge for the door, escaping just as the last of the structure is devoured by the earth.
When you turn back, there is nothing. No ruin, no trace of what once was.
[[Credits|Credits & Fact Check]] ]
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src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9HZxWNoyTJY?autoplay=1"
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You take out the jar and begin applying the lacquer with your brush, carefully coating the wooden mask and avoiding applying too much. [[ Seo-Hwa is beautiful]]]
(set: $MaskProgress to it -1)
(css: "font-size: 60%")[<img src="https://imgur.com/u5WtuOk.png" style="display:block; margin:auto; width:80%; max-height:600vh; margin-top:-9vh;"> $MaskProgress Masks Remaining
You step back, studying the mask in your hands. She is beautiful—too beautiful. As delicate and haunting as the real Seo-Hwa. The lacquer gleams under the dim light, the carved features so lifelike they almost seem to breathe.
A whisper slithers through the air, curling against your ear.
"[[Now, just one more]]"
(link: "Check inventory")[
(alert: "$Inventory")
] ]
(css: "font-size: 60%")[ (set: $Sanity to it -30) ''[Sanity: $SanityLevel]
'' The air shifts. A low murmur swells, neither a whisper nor a roar, but something vast—something pleased. The gods stir, their presence pressing against the walls, curling into the hollow spaces between breath and silence.
"You have done well, Hur."
The weight of their approval sinks into your chest, deeper than relief, heavier than pride. The masks surrounding you seem to listen, their carved expressions caught between reverence and hunger.
"One remains. The final offering."
(text-rotate-x:186)+(text-rotate-y:156)+(text-rotate-z:182)[Your father.] The realization is cold. A quiet, creeping certainty. He is the last. He must be.
The block of wood sits before you, silent, patient. Your blade hesitates, just for a moment. Then—
[[The first cut is made]]
] (css: "font-size: 70%")[ ~~You're missing the lacquer~~ (set: $Inventory to (datamap:
"Wood", 9999, "Paint", 9999, "Carving Tools", 9999, "Jar of Lacquer", 9999 ) )
The brush glides across the mask, the lacquer thick and smooth, seeping into the grain like ink spreading through parchment. It gleams under the dim light, deepening the carved lines, making them richer—(text-rotate-x:186)+(text-rotate-y:150)+(text-rotate-z:182)[more real.]
You dip the brush back into the jar. Again. (text-rotate-x:186)+(text-rotate-y:215)+(text-rotate-z:182)[And again]. The lacquer clings to the bristles, endless, unyielding.
You frown. The jar should be empty by now.
But it isn’t. (text-rotate-y:176)[A fresh block of wood sits before you.]
Your breath catches. You don’t remember reaching for another. You don’t remember needing another. And yet, it is there. (text-rotate-y:176)+(text-rotate-z:182)[Waiting.]
[[Finish the final mask]] | [(text-rotate-x:186)+(text-rotate-y:138)+(text-rotate-z:182)[[Something isn't right]]]
(link: "Check inventory")[
(alert: "$Inventory")
(alert: "How is this possible?")
(alert: "You need to leave before it's too late")
]
]
(css: "font-size: 60%")[ (set: $Sanity to it -80) ''[~~Sanity: $SanityLevel~~]''
(text-style:"blur")[The brush moves, the lacquer glistens, but the jar never empties. The wood never runs out. The knives never dull.
You stare at your hands—steady, obedient, relentless. How many masks have you carved? How many more will there be?
]
(text-rotate-x:186)+(text-rotate-y:156)+(text-rotate-z:182)[When did this start?]
(text-style:"blurrier")[The workshop hums. The walls pulse. The masks watch, their carved lips stretched too wide, their hollow eyes too deep.]
[[Carve|Yes,I will]]
A command. A demand. A truth.
]
<iframe width="1" height="1"
src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9HZxWNoyTJY?autoplay=1"
frameborder="0" allow="autoplay"></iframe>(css: "font-size: 70%")[<img src="https://imgur.com/1hl9P06.png" style="display:block; margin:auto; width:60%; max-height:700vh; margin-top:-9vh;"> The blade moves without thought—just one more cut.
A crack. Sharp. Final.
Without a warning, the jaw snaps off, hitting the floor with a sound that shouldn’t be so loud.
The air twists. A whisper swells, countless voices folding into one.
"You were never meant to succeed."
Pain lances through your chest. The world tilts.
The masks watch in silence.
Beside you, the unfinished mask grins—jawless just like the father who had forsaken you ]
<iframe width="1" height="1"
src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9HZxWNoyTJY?autoplay=1"
frameborder="0" allow="autoplay"></iframe>(css: "font-size: 60%")[ She doesn’t wait for permission. She just steps forward, close enough that you can hear the unsteady rhythm of her breath. Close enough that, for a moment, the weight pressing down on your chest eases.
"I mean it," she whispers. "I’ll stay. No matter what happens."
Your fingers tighten around the carving knife. You should tell her to leave, to run while she still can. But the words don’t come. The workshop feels different with her here—less like a prison, more like a place that still belongs to you.
She kneels beside you, hands folded in her lap, watching as you set the fresh block of wood before you. Waiting.
[[Start carving]]
](css: "font-size: 60%")[ The wood is smooth beneath your fingers, waiting. You trace the grain, feeling her shape before the blade ever touches the surface.
The first cut is careful. Wood curls away, revealing the curve of a cheekbone, the soft slope of a jaw.
Seo Hwa watches in silence.
Her eyes take the longest—downcast, sorrowful. Lips pressed together, neither in defiance nor grief, but something in between.
Last, you carve her hair—braids flowing unevenly, as if caught in a breeze, frozen in movement.
(set: $Inventory's "Wood" to it -1)
The mask rests in your hands, unfinished but alive.
She exhales, barely a breath. "It looks like me."
[[Keep working]]
(link: "Check inventory")[
(alert: "$Inventory")
] ] <img src="https://imgur.com/u5WtuOk.png" style="display:block; margin:auto; width:100%;">$MaskProgress Masks Remaining
You finish the mask off with the lacquer, carefully coating it and resting the mask on your workbench.
(text-colour:magenta)["She is... beautiful", I love her hair]
(text-style:"shadow")[[This will not slide]]
(css: "font-size: 70%")[[The air turns thick, heavy—wrong. The lacquer pools, dark and endless, seeping into the wood like ink through parchment. A shudder runs through the workshop.
A whisper rises—not one voice, but many. Furious. Overlapping.
(text-style:"shadow","condense")["We said no witnesses"]
The floor splits beneath you. Shadows bleed across the walls. The masks rattle, their carved faces twisting, grinning, screaming.
Seo Hwa gasps as her breath is stolen from her lips. Her body stills. Her fingers slip from yours.
A sharp, unseen force slams into your chest. Pain lances through you, sudden, final. The workshop distorts, stretching, unraveling, swallowing you whole.
By the time silence falls, you are both gone. Nothing remains—except the masks.]
<b>Game Over</b> | (link:"Restart")[(goto: "start")] | [Quit]
(click:"Quit")[
(open-url: "https://explore.org/livecams/cats/kitten-rescue-cam")]
</p>
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src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/9HZxWNoyTJY?autoplay=1"
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]