gold

:: Start You are the Golden Man, standing in the Marble Room, a cosmos of tiny universes. Each marble pulses with possibilities. [[Touch the silver marble|Silver Marble]] [[Approach the crimson marble|Crimson Marble]] [[Step beyond the Marble Room|Threshold Marble]] The Golden Architect is not a tale of mortal hearts it is the story of the marble room where beings of pure thought craft universes like glass orbs and the golden man a wanderer who has sculpted galaxies from nothing discovers the terrible cost of infinite power here there are no starfighters no whispered confessions and alien gardens only the silent screen of dying dimension the hunger of a hollow king who devours realities and the chilling revelation that every creator no matter how divine is also someone else's plaything this is my ode to the unknowable what happens when you've created everything except mooning if the beyond the galaxy's light novelets were love letters to human connection and the void the golden architect is the black hole at the center of what that love the moment the universe ask why make anything at all? (Full story free to read on Kindle Unlimited)

:: Silver Marble (set: $visitedSilver to true) (set: $timeBackward to true) The silver marble floods your mind with a universe where time flows backward. Beings unravel from death to birth, their memories scattering like stardust. [[Return to the Marble Room|Start]] [[Stay and observe longer|Silver Marble 2]]

nothing

:: Threshold marble The geometries of your world dissolve. You stand on a bridge of pure meaning. [[Dissolve your form|Formless]] [[Keep your golden shell|Golden Shell]]

nothing

:: Silver Marble 2 (if: $timeBackward)[ A child’s laughter echoes their first words are their last. ] [[Leave|Start]]

:: Formless You flow like liquid thought through dying dimensions. [[Enter the Sea of Dying Dimensions|Sea Dimensions]] [[Approach the Labyrinth of Forgotten Gods|Labyrinth]]

:: Fragment Collected You grasp a shard of cosmic memory. [[Continue]]

:: Shadow Appears Your shadow peels from the ground, jagged with stolen ideas. [[Fight|Shadow Fight]] [[Merge with it|Shadow Merge]] ]

[[what lies ahead|labyrinth]] You step into the labyrinth of endless dreams what secrets await around the next turn?

[[Continue into the labyrinth |labyrinth]] What lies ahead may be unknown are you willing to move forward and accept your path?

:: Hollow King You materialize in a palace of inverted light. The Hollow King lounges on a throne of compressed universes, their silent screams vibrating through your golden form. "I was like you once," it muses. "But creation is exhausting. Better to consume." The King’s eyes widen—it cannot devour what has no form. [[Trick the King|Hollow Trick]] "Give me your oldest memory," it offers, "and I’ll spare the next universe." [[Offer a memory|Hollow Memory]] [[Refuse|Hollow Refuse]]

:: Shadow Fight Your golden fists collide with the Shadow’s jagged edges. Each blow fractures reality—shards of forgotten creations scatter like broken glass. The Shadow screeches as you unravel its stolen ideas. "You can’t destroy what you abandoned!" [[Absorb its fragments|Shattered Sky]] (Force merge) The Shadow laughs. "Strike me, and you strike yourself." [[Continue fighting|Shadow Fight Loop]] [[Retreat to the Labyrinth|Labyrinth]]

:: Shadow Merge You embrace the Shadow. Gold and void swirl together creation and destruction entwined. "Why choose one when you can have both?" [[Warp to the Sea of Dying Dimensions|Sea Dimensions]]

:: Sea Dimensions The merged Shadow shudders as dying universes gasp around you. The Shadow murmurs: "We could save them... or savor their end." [[Rewrite their laws|Rewrite Dimensions]] [[Feed on their death throes|Hollow King]] [[Hollow King]]

:: Hollow Memory You surrender a shard of your past. The King devours it... and chokes. Your memory was a paradox, it burns like a star in its gullet. [[Escape as it writhes|Shattered Sky]]

:: Hollow Refuse The King’s throne cracks. "Then I’ll take it!" Universes shatter as it lunges. [[Fight back|Shadow Fight]] [[Dissolve into the void|Formless]]

:: Shattered Sky The sky is a fractured mirror. In one shard, stars bleed darkness. In another, time pools like liquid. A reflection of your past self steps forward, it remembers the future. [[Speak to it|Mirror Dialogue]] The glass whispers: "To find the Unmade, you must Unmake yourself." [[Shatter the mirror|Unmake Self]] [[Turn away|Labyrinth]]

:: Mirror Dialogue The fractured sky whispers in reverse. Your reflection steps out of the glass, its edges blurred like wet ink. The Shadow within you hisses: "Lies taste better than truth." [[Challenge the reflection|Mirror Challenge]] The Hollow King’s dying scream echoes in the glass. [[Ask the reflection about the King|Mirror King]] The reflection tilts its head. "Why do you keep walking the same path?" [[Answer|Mirror Answer]] [[Shatter it|Mirror Shatter]]

:: Unmake Self (set: $isUnmade to true) Your golden shell explodes into stardust. You are nothing. You are everything. [[Enter the Heart of the Unmade|Heart Unmade]]

:: Heart Unmade A pulsing Question hangs in the void. It is not a word. It demands an answer. You have no form to hesitate with. [[Step forward|True End]] The Question vibrates "Why create?" [[Answer with a new rule|New Architect]] [[Answer with silence|Silence End]]

VOID

:: New Architect (set: $isArchitect to true) You rewrite the First Blueprint: "Creation is connection." The Marble Room trembles as creators reach for each other’s worlds. [[FIN: The Shared Age Begins]]

:: Silence End The Question collapses into a singularity. You are alone. [[FIN: The Void Wins]]

The Golden Age had ended with the birth of the new Golden Architect. With the old rules broken, creators tentatively reached for each other’s universes, not to take, but to share. Some say the Golden Man became a wandering star, singing to newborn worlds. Others claim he fractured into mortal lives, forgetting himself until the day they remembered. And in the Marble Room, the New Architect smiled, watching as the first true collaboration sparked between realms. The Shared Age had begun. [[Play again?|Start]] [[MARBLE ROOM]] [[REALM OF VIKINGS]]

[[Play again?|Start]] [[MARBLE ROOM]]

:: Shadow Fight Loop The Shadow implodes, its pieces embedding into your form. You feel its whispers in your pulse. [[Carry its echoes to the Shattered Sky|Shattered Sky]] ]

:: Rewrite Dimensions (set: $rewroteLaws to true) You stitch time into loops, letting universes relive their glory days. The Shadow purrs, this is its gift. [[Return to the Shattered Sky|Shattered Sky]]

:: Hollow Trick (set: $trickedKing to true) You whisper a lie: "My oldest memory is." The Hollow King convulses, its own hunger consumes it. [[Watch it unravel|Mirror Dialogue]] or [[Mirror Challenge]]

:: Mirror Challenge The reflection morphs into the Shadow’s grinning face. "You merged with me so who’s the real monster?" It gestures to the dying dimensions you "saved." "You rewrote their stories. Was that mercy... or vanity?" [[Defend your choice|Mirror Defense]] It licks its lips. "Let’s unmake more." [[Fight for control|Shadow Fight Loop]]

:: Mirror King The reflection holds up a shard of the Hollow King’s throne. "He feared the answer to his hunger." [[Demand the answer|Mirror Answer]] [[Take the shard|Mirror Shard]]

:: Mirror Answer The reflection’s smile splits into fractals. "Your answer doesn’t matter. The question was the trap." The glass beneath you shatters. [[Plunge into the void|Mirror Void]]

:: Mirror Shatter (set: $shatteredMirror to true) The glass explodes. A thousand reflections of you scream silently as they fall into the void. [[Fall with them|Mirror Void]]

:: Mirror Defense The reflection sneers. "Your ‘mercy’ is just another kind of hunger." But the dying dimensions you rewrote remember you. Their light flickers in the glass a silent plea. [[Return to them|Rewrite Dimensions]] [[anti story]]

:: Mirror Shard (set: $hasShard to true) The throne shard burns your hand. The reflection laughs "Now you carry his curse." The mirrors warp. Your golden form drips like molten wax. [[Fall into the void|Mirror Void]]

:: Mirror Void You tumble through cascading mirrors, each showing a different Golden Man: - One wears the Hollow King’s crown. - One is fused with the Shadow. - One kneels before the New Architect. [[Grab a reflection|Mirror Grab]] [[Close your eyes|Heart Unmade]]

:: Mirror Grab (set: $choseReflection to true) The moment you touch glass, you become the reflection. You’re now the Golden Shadow, laughing as realms distort. [[Corrupt the Marble Room|Dark Ending]] You’re the Golden Man who never left the Marble Room. [[Start anew|Start]]

:: Dark Ending (set: $universesDestroyed to true) You raise the Hollow King’s shard, or let the Shadow’s laughter fill your veins and strike the First Blueprint. The Marble Room shatters. > One by one, universes blink out: > - The light-eaters’ rebellion silences mid-scream. > - The Needle’s stitched-together worlds unravel like yarn. > - Your own creations dissolve into golden mist. [[FIN: The Void Wins]] (Auto-loop to this ending)

:: Golden Shell You clutch your golden form defiantly as reality tries to unmake you. The Paradox Realms sigh like a tired parent. "Must we do this every cycle?" [[Dissolve like a responsible cosmic entity|Formless]] [[Nope. GOLDEN SHELL 4EVER|Golden Shell Loop]] [[Golden ShellL]] :: Golden Shell Loop (set: $stubbornness to it + 1) The void glitches. Your golden shell now has: - A pixelated edge - The Hollow King's face faintly visible in the reflection - A sticky note that reads: "WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING THIS?" "I can fix IT" (Try again)|Golden ShellL]] [["Fine, I'll change"|Formless]] "BECOME THE GLITCH"|Golden Glitch Ending]]

:: Golden Glitch Ending The cosmic code BREAKS. You are now: - 37% Golden Man - 28% Paradox Realm - 15% Twine passage error - 20% pure "no thoughts just vibes" The New Architect facepalms so hard it creates a new universe. [[FIN: Error 404 - Architect Not Found]] Continue to the face palmed universe? =) [[Faceplant into the Face Palmed Universe|Face Palmed Universe]]

And has one made it this far it shall not be the end but the beginning of something entirely new something that has never Happened before a person thought to have been playing a game but the game has been playing the person you have reached this screen not in defeat but determined to find an ending that is proper to the book series well I hate to bring the bad news but this is not that screen if you wish to see the true ending in which in storytelling there is none then you must replay this game from the beginning too bad so sad try again and again and do your best not to reach this screen unless you wish to fall for another maze like plunder the Hollow King doesn't mind your loops and if you are still reading this you might as well just restart the game from the beginning as there is no point in continuing any further this is the end of this part of the game I seriously don't see why you are still reading any of this as it is pointless to continue to do so we are done here you have things you have things to do and I'm sure it doesn't involve reading some random text in a video game in a style that most people don't play anymore but I'm glad you had fun getting this far and there are many loops and thrills along this journey as you play the game but don't think that every path you take is a wrong turn as you can always start fresh and new this is a game you know and there is no reason to feel bad about your decisions no matter what aspect in life but now go follow your dreams relentlessly and never let doubt get in the way of your achievements some days you may be your own worst critic but as these words continue and I see that you are still reading this this game is officially over and there will be nothing else of inspiration beyond this point you are continuing to read at your own discretion and hereby as you continue reading consent to any buffoonery that will take place along these next few lines of text thus being said I'm glad I can entertain you this long and as these and as these journeys take infinite turns The cosmic code vomits you into existence as: [√] 12% Golden Man [√] 43% corrupted divinity DLC [√] 25% expired cosmic latte [ERROR: "Purpose" not found THE AFTERMATH: - The Hollow King opens a bakery selling "Universe Muffins" (now 50% off) - Your shadow starts an OnlyFans (@VoidDaddy) - The New Architect facepalms so hard it births InterdemensionalTikTok A SINGULARITY OF ABSURDITY: 1. The Marble Room's WiFi password is "admin123" 2. All deleted scenes form a conga line through the Paradox Realms 3. The original Golden Man is just vibing in a Hot Topic somewhere Wait...you're STILL reading this? [[Buffoonery Finale ]]

OOPS

:: Face Palmed Universe The New Architect's facepalm achieves nuclear fusion: - Creates a dimension where all dialogue is in grunts and binary - Your shadow T-poses to assert dominance and your are losing - The Hollow King slides into your DMs: "u ok hun?" winky face [[WITNESS YOUR GLITCHIFICATION|Golden Glitch Ending]]

:: Buffoonery Finale "BEHOLD!"screeches the Hollow King, now wearing: - Crocs in "void black" - A fanny pack full of dying universes - Your dignity as a hat THE FINAL CHOICE: [SERIOUS] Actually end the game [[ Shared Age Begins]] | [CHAOS] Yeet the New Architect into a Walmart [[Walmart Ending]] Ending ]] | Write fanfiction with the Shadow [[OnlyFans Finale]] Development Note: > "At this point I'm 80% coffee and 20% regret. > If you're reading this, the Golden Man has already tweeted about it. > Please send help (or memes)." > - Max, probably

As one enters the realm of Walmart knowing you will never financially recover from this journey you strive with your shopping cart one wheel turning in all directions as the others stay streamlined you scroll past the cosmic aisles in an endless void of corridors there is no leaving you are forever a Walmart customer surrender to the void

NO!

As one enters the realm of Walmart knowing you will never financially recover from this journey you strive with your shopping cart one wheel turning in all directions as the others stay streamlined you scroll past the cosmic aisles in an endless void of corridors there is no leaving as you are forever a Walmart customer surrender to the void

NO!

The new architect observes a mysterious realm thought to be from the past. "Ride the Storm (A Viking's Dream)" (A rousing Norse-inspired anthem for creators and warriors alike) Hear the whispers on the northern wind, A voice calls loud to the fire within! "Wake, oh dreamer, shake off the night Your saga starts with the first bold stride!"" Hey-ah! (HEY-AH!) The road is long, but the gods stand by! Hey-ah! (HEY-AH!) The coward dies but the brave ones RIDE!" So hoist the sail and grip the oar, Let thunder roar ROW FOR MORE! No grave shall hold what the heart demands, Write your name in blood and sand! The naysayers howl like winter’s breath, "You’ll drown in doubt, you’ll freeze to death!" But laugh and light the pyre high A dream set burning will never die! "The skalds sing soft of those who turned back... (BOOM) But the wolves remember (BOOM BOOM) Only the hungry attack!" So hoist the sail and grip the oar, Let thunder roar ROW FOR MORE! When the Valkyries come, hold your head high, Point to your life and shout "MINE!" "Odin’s Fire (Carve Your Fate)" Hear the ravens cry at dawn’s first light, Steel in hand, the path is yours to write. No storm nor foe shall turn you back, The winds of fate fill your sail ATTACK! Raise your voice to the thunderous sky! Dreams won’t wait so laugh and fight! With axe or pen, with art or blade, Carve your name where legends are made! The wolves may howl, the seas may rise, But fire burns bright in the dreamer’s eyes. Valhalla waits for those who dare, To chase the beast, to climb the stair! "Blood and sweat on the anvil beat, Hammer your will make the gods retreat!" Raise your voice to the thunderous sky! Dreams won’t wait so laugh and fight! With axe or pen, with art or blade, Carve your name where legends are made!

<div class="anti-story"> The skeletal Architect doesn’t unroll the First Blueprint—it unrolls the Golden Man. His gilded skin peels back like parchment, revealing equations that write themselves in reverse. "You were never a creator," the Architect wheezes as the workshop walls dissolve into static. "You’re a correction." The Golden Man’s hands flicker. His marbles aren’t universes—they’re erasers. </div><div class="anti-story"> The Light-Eaters don’t just map his gaze—they invert it. Their marble isn’t a lens. It’s a mirror. When the Golden Man looks inside, he sees: [[His own hands dissolving->The Hollow King’s Crisis]] [[The marbles staring back->The Ultimate Anti-Revelation]] </div>

<div class="anti-story"> The empty room isn’t empty. The untouched marble isn’t untouched. When the Golden Man picks it up, he realizes: [[It’s already cracked->The Convergence 3]] [[It’s his own eye->The Architect’s True Design]] </div>

<div class="anti-story"> The Hollow King doesn’t choke on the Golden Man’s power—it thrives. "You think you’re poisoning me?" it laughs, its throne shattering multiplying. "Your ‘creation’ is just decay in reverse." The freed universes? They choose to return to the lattice. </div>

<div class="anti-story" style="background-color: #000; color: #fff;">The Golden Man doesn’t choose.The gold wasn’t his. The marble room was never his. And the voice that whispers "Create"? [[It’s yours->ENDGAME]] </div>

The true design is yours to make you create your own path in life regardless of the dimension

This is not the true ending to the game. Continue? [[MARBLE ROOM]] [[NOT THE MARBLE ROOM]]

:: ANTI-STORY NEXUS You are not walking, and yet you move. You are not breathing, but something old stirs within you. The anti-story coils around you like the memory of a god that never existed. It is tired, like you. Not from age, but from **being**. Every layer you pass through feels like it's watching — not with eyes, but with *intent*. You are somewhere *between* before and after. Somewhere no story ever wanted to go. And yet... you feel it: the hunger to make. Not to fix the old universe — but to tear the curtain wide open and **breathe out** a new one. One with colors no retina could decode. One that sings in silence. There are three rooms waiting. You feel them before you see them: → [[THE ROOM OF UNNAMING]] → [[THE MIRROR THAT BREATHES]] → [[THE DOOR MADE OF]]

:: THE MIRROR THAT BREATHES You are watched before you arrive. The mirror breathes in slow, foggy pulses. It does not reflect. It remembers. You see flickers of other lives in its surface — A child spinning in a garden made of ash. A bird that learns to speak only after the universe ends. Your own face, split down the middle by a question you’ve never asked. You raise your hand to touch it. It exhales. You feel it in your lungs. [[Return to the ANTI-STORY NEXUS]]

The door pulses... moistly. It's exactly what it says it is: a door made entirely of pale, veined skin. It even has a belly button — which, unfortunately, blinks. It speaks, not with sound, but with *texture*. You run your hand across it and feel the sensation of forgotten childhood nightmares and the emotional weight of every abandoned sock. The handle is a single tooth. It wiggles. You don't want to open it... but it *wants* to open you. [[Return to the ANTI-STORY NEXUS]]

:: THE ROOM OF UNNAMING You arrive in a space that technically shouldn't exist... mostly because it refuses to be called anything at all. Words slough off this room like oil off a duck. The furniture is trying its best to look meaningful—there’s a couch that might be a *chair*, a chandelier that emits no light, and an ominous presence in the corner that insists it’s just “Steve.” Your name? Gone. It left the moment you stepped in. You are now referred to as “That One.” Congratulations. A voice, echoing from everywhere and nowhere, says: "Here in the Room of Unnaming, we liberate you from pesky things like titles, labels, or proper nouns. Your baggage has been turned into interpretive dance. Please do not interpret it." In the far wall, three hallways pulse with undefined purpose. → [[Return to the Nexus|ANTI-STORY NEXUS]] → [[VIBRATING HALLWAY OF QUESTIONABLE INTENT]] → [[STEVE’S CLOSET]] → [[THE DEFINITELY-NOT-A-TRAP DOOR]]

Didn't we already do this?

:: VIBRATING HALLWAY OF QUESTIONABLE INTENT The hallway vibrates like a phone call you really don’t want to answer. The walls hum with tension. The floor jiggles just enough to make you wonder if it’s laughing at you. It smells faintly of old socks and interdimensional paperwork. A pulsating sign at the far end reads: "AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. UNAUTHORIZED PERSONNEL STRONGLY ENCOURAGED." You proceed, uncomfortably aware of the fact that your thoughts have been replaced with sitcom reruns. Ahead lies a mysterious plaque: **STEVE'S CLOSET. ENTER IF YOU DARE. OR IF YOU'RE BORED.** You’re both. → [[STEVE’S CLOSET]]

:: STEVE’S CLOSET You expected coats. You found… Steve. The air is thick with sweater lint and misplaced ambition. Steve is here — not *that* Steve — but the entity formerly known as “Steve.” He is made entirely of static and folded laundry, speaking only in middle-school riddles and bass guitar riffs. He offers you one of three things: - A leftover sock full of despair - A small, glowing orb that hums the Bee Gees’ discography - A suggestion that you try the “Definitely-Not-a-Trap Door” because “it has snacks.” Your brain, overwhelmed, chooses snacks. → [[THE DEFINITELY-NOT-A-TRAP DOOR]]

:: TRAPDOOR OF THE ANTI-STORY NEXUS You have fallen. Forever. You fell for what felt like years. Or maybe a long Tuesday. It’s hard to tell when gravity itself is improvising. You are now suspended in a void that may or may not be a metaphor for your choices. Beneath you, above you, beside you—nothing but infinite trapdoor-ness. Congratulations. You’ve reached the **Trapdoor of the Anti-Story Nexus™**: a patented, paradoxical chamber designed specifically to punish curiosity, reward boldness, and confuse anyone who thought this story made sense. A booming narrator voice echoes (which is weird, since there's no air): “You have activated the eternal recursive punishment zone. By opening the Definitely-Not-a-Trap Door and/or returning to the Nexus without fully committing to a narrative branch, you have violated Law 8 of the Storyverse Accords. You will now fall endlessly through post-ironic allegorical punishment while being slowly wrapped in existential noodles.” There is a long pause. Then, a glowing sign appears, flickering: “Or, y’know, just click a link and move on. Nobody’s watching.” → [[Back to the Anti-Story Nexus|ANTI-STORY NEXUS]] → [[Create a New Law of Reality]] → [[Just Keep Going]]

:: Return to the Anti-Story Nexus You try to return, but the Nexus has shifted. The coordinates of reality have taken offense to your indecision. Where once stood the branching chaos of infinite rooms, there is now... a chair. It stares at you. Not metaphorically. The chair **knows**. A whisper tickles your mind: “You can’t go back, That One. Forward is the new backward. Try again, but this time with *feeling*.” Reality ripples. Three options reappear, reluctantly. → [[THE ROOM OF UNNAMING]] → [[THE MIRROR THAT BREATHES]] → [[THE DOOR MADE OF]]

:: FART OVERLOAD <div class="fart-screen"> <div class="fart-word">FART</div> <div class="fart-word">FART</div> <div class="fart-word">FART</div> <div class="fart-word">FART</div> <div class="fart-word">FART</div> <div class="fart-word">FART</div> <div class="fart-word">FART</div> <div class="fart-word">FART</div> <div class="fart-word">FART</div> <div class="fart-word">FART</div> </div> → [[Escape the Gas]]

:: THE END OF THE END OF THE GAME There is no turning back now. You have made it to the end of the end. Of the game. Of the game that wasn’t even supposed to end. And yet, here we are, at the end of this part of the game, which you can revisit at any given time by restarting your PC and holding down the **ALT** key while whistling softly. But as we continue this journey through **Nothingness and Everything**, You are whole. You are welcome. You are enough. And that—strangely—is good enough for the universe. You are seen as fit. You are now a perfect player in an imperfect story. Yes, there were twists. Yes, mysteries. Yes, cosmic digestive noises. But you defied all that simply by reaching this screen. I thank you for playing this far. Truly. You are so deep now, there is no returning. Unless you restart your PC. This game will now remain on your screen. Forever. You may never play another. You are trapped now, in the infinite paradoxes of the realms of the non-physical. You have been released from narrative and consumed by meaninglessness. I regret to inform you that all the time you spent playing this? You will never get it back. ...But I wholeheartedly, cosmically, enthusiastically inform you: This was **time well wasted**. I’m glad we did this. You and me. Together. Now then. Would you like to: → [[Continue Where You Are]] → [[Return to the Marble Room]]

[[Escape the Gas]]

:: RETURN TO THE MARBLE ROOM This isn't the real Marble Room. But it feels like it remembers it. The air hums softly, like a song trapped in a snow globe. The walls shimmer with something that might be memory—or just really fancy dust. Before you float three marbles, suspended midair. Each one pulses with a different kind of promise. None of them seem safe. One of them might even be the concept of irony in physical form. Choose, but know this: **one of these marbles has a terrible sense of humor.** → [[Touch the Crimson Marble]] → [[Touch the Silver Marble]] → [[Touch the Perpetual Inevitable Disastrous Marble of Doom]]

:: You Can’t Escape the Cosmic Flatulence <div class="cosmic-paragraph"> You try to run. You try to hide. You even briefly consider joining a monastery of silence. But it’s too late. The sound rumbles across the universe like a prophecy poorly translated by an echo. Planets quiver. Time hesitates. Nebulas wrinkle in existential embarrassment. You have triggered the **Cosmic Flatulence**—an eternal, galactic toot that predates the stars. It is not malicious. It is not kind. It simply is. You feel it vibrating through the fabric of all things. It smells like burnt toast and ancient disappointment. You cannot escape it. You were never meant to. It is the final sound before the end… And also the sound your chair makes when you stand up too quickly. </div> → [[Accept Your Gassy Fate]] → [[Try to Outrun the Fart (Again)]]

nothing again You fell for another maze like plunder

:: Touch the Silver Marble You touch the Silver Marble. And suddenly... everything un-happens. Your breath rewinds into your lungs. Your footsteps walk themselves backward. Words you once said suck themselves back into your mouth. Rooms collapse in reverse. You un-see things you never realized you had seen. The plot—such as it was—spools backward like an old tape possessed by ennui. You remember the trapdoor, the closet, the hallway, the Nexus. You remember the Mirror. The Room of Unnaming. The voice. The FART. You remember being born in reverse—sucked into a smaller and smaller moment of being—until all that remains is the question: "How did I end up here again?" The marble pulses. Time tries to reset. But you are already corrupted. You've seen too much. You can't go back—not really. → [[Return to the Marble Room]]

:: Touch the Perpetual Inevitable Disastrous Marble of Doom You touch the marble you were never meant to touch. It is smooth. Too smooth. A texture so flawless that your brain glitches trying to comprehend it. Then the sound begins: not a noise, not a scream—something far worse. It is the sound of your past selves arguing with your future self about whether you *should have touched the marble*. They are not kind. The room implodes into itself, expanding outward into paradox. Colors invent new colors just to panic. Your thoughts become fonts you’ve never installed. You fall. And fall. And keep falling—not through space, but through **decisions you didn’t make**. A corridor of unlived lives opens before you: - The version of you who turned left instead of right. - The you who said “yes” instead of “maybe.” - The you who never played this game. They stare at you with eyes made of empty marble sockets. The marble pulses in your hand like a heartbeat that’s not yours. And the voice returns. Not the narrator. Not a character. Not even Steve. "This is what you wanted, isn’t it? You touched the Perpetual Inevitable Disastrous Marble of Doom. You chose entropy with extra sprinkles." Reality begins replacing itself. You are now 99% metaphor. Everything tastes like regret and gummy bears. You feel the end of endings approaching. It’s wearing flip-flops. Then everything goes quiet. Not peaceful quiet—**pre-explosion quiet**. And in that silence, the question arrives: “Do you want to touch it again?” → [[Yes, touch it again.]] → [[No, return to the fake Marble Room.]] → [[I want to wake up now.]]

:: GO BACK 334 SPACES <div class="go-back-screen"> <div class="go-back-text">GO BACK</div> <div class="go-back-text">334</div> <div class="go-back-text">SPACES...</div> </div> → [[Panic Slightly]] → [[Ignore and Move Forward]]

:: RETURN TO THE FAKE MARBLE ROOM You have returned. But something’s wrong. The marbles are still here. Still hovering. Still pulsing. But their colors seem... slightly off. The Crimson Marble now flickers like a cheap neon sign. The Silver Marble hums an off-key lullaby. And the Doom Marble? It looks bored. You glance around and realize something unsettling: This isn't the Marble Room. This isn’t even the same fake Marble Room. This is a **replica of a replica**, held together by duct tape, wishful thinking, and the thinnest layer of story logic imaginable. There is nothing real here— Except for whatever you can imagine. Close your eyes. Think hard enough, and maybe you'll conjure something real. Or maybe you’ll just create another illusion with better lighting. You are the architect now. The narrator has stopped helping. → [[Imagine Something Real]] → [[Touch a Marble Again (Are You Sure?)]] → [[Begin Unmaking the Room]]

Good morning you are now awake

:: Panic Slightly You begin to panic. Not a full-blown meltdown. Not a dramatic scream. Just a **casual, polite panic**. You clutch your metaphorical pearls. You glance around nervously, as if someone might help (they won’t). Your breathing quickens slightly. One bead of sweat materializes, realizes what game this is, and promptly evaporates. Then a little voice—possibly yours, possibly the universe’s—whispers: "Okay... just... keep going." You nod. Slightly. Because that’s all you can do now. → [[Just Keep Going]]

The illusion of choice go back 10 spaces OR [[MARBLE ROOM]]

IMAGINE

DOHH TRY AGAIN

You begin to unmake the room thread by thread buffing and relaxing the nonexisting floors into eternity......

FARTS AGAIN WITH COSMIC TURBULENCE

YOU CANT