ONE

4thWallBreak: 0 -- It's getting difficult to watch television these days. Every other advertisement, every other program, every other block of news has ONE's greasy fingerprints all over it. A sitcom features a bumbling twenty-something looking for the love of his life, starting each date downing four pills to help him connect with what may be the woman of his dreams. A game show offers a winning couple entire large bottles of ONE. A drama's protagonist switches from coconut-flavored to dark chocolate spearmint ONE after the latter hits store shelves. It's marketed to hell and back, and [[it bothers you deeply.->Averse]]

BankCornered: 0 MiriamBuddy: 0 MickBuddy: 0 EmmaBuddy: 0 GeorgeBuddy: 0 StacyBuddy: 0 GrantBuddy: 0 HasOneBox: 0 -- At the age of fourteen, you had learned that ONE did not agree with your system. At the time, there was no name for people like you, as many of them were simply rejected or otherwise could not keep up in this ONE-forward society. When exposed to the artificial, romantic-feeling-inducing pharmaceutical, your heart rate rapidly accelerated towards 200 beats per minute, your vision went dark, and had it not been for an activated charcoal slurry, you would have certainly died from heart failure in just a couple minutes. It was a disappointment, for many people, to learn you could not indulge in ONE. The drug was not habit-forming, and produces rushes of euphoria that were leagues above what any sober individual could hope to achieve. Within a generation, the old ways of romance had fallen by the wayside, the old feelings of love eclipsed by the more visceral, less subtle, more extreme sensations ONE brought out. Originally sold in a single dosage (30 mcg) and over two durations (thirty minutes, and four hours), ONE now comes in dosages between 10 mcg and 250 mcg, with durations lasting between five minutes and thirty days. Recreational use of the drug led to it being available over the counter in drugstores, in thirty-five flavors, with annual events adding limited-edition flavors (this year offering Sake, Rum Raisin, and Macha Green Tea in celebration of ONE being legalized for those over the age of 14 in Japan the previous December), leading to a blossoming collector's market. You were unsure if there was another human being like you for years. You were isolated in high school with few friends, always fleeting as they chased the newest highs, lusted after a new fling for mere days before they both moved on, and in college you found it hard to participate in group projects or anything related to popular culture, as that often involved ONE, in one instance requiring you take a failing grade on an assignment to join a ONE tasting party to sample the latest releases and discuss their cultural impact. It wasn't until a few months after your 24th birthday [[that you found someone else. ->Miriam]]

Lazarus: 0 Outed: 0 BankIgnore: 0 -- Miriam Everworthy was someone you knew from High School, but only heard about twice. She was in your Freshman year study hall, never saying a word, never even working on assignments, simply solving a large puzzle cube in the back corner, unnoticed, unnoticable. Later, after you graduated, you found her name in the yearbook, having participated in the school's Junior Activists Club and being part of the debate team. You knew she was into some kind of activism, but you never heard anything about her at school other than she's weird and friendless. Fast forward six years, and her name turns up once again. A manifesto published to social media, about three pages long, calling out the Pharmaceutical industry for pushing a dangerous pill on the masses. It caught your attention immediately, then followed by a single glimpse at the comments, destroying your hope for change. Two thousand comments, all angry, bitter, some taking to personal insults or direct, violent threats. "ONE doesn't hurt anyone," one comment read, "you're stupid for wanting something that helps so many people destroyed." Another comment simply read: "You can take my wild berry 250s from my cold dead hands, bitch". It had 1,400 likes. The other comments all read very similarly, and out of... something, be it pity, or respect, or admiration, you felt inclined to leave a comment of your own onto the post. "Thank you, Miriam." It wasn't until nearly a week later that you got a reply, a direct message. "If you're also {reveal link: 'Null*', text: 'Null (you think this might be a name for people like you?)'}, you can come to our meeting at 340 Graham Road [[this coming Tuesday.->The Meeting]]

REInjection: 0 FoundFlier: 0 BankCornered: 0 -- The address deposits you at the foot of a recreation center that had been closed nearly a year ago. It had been a combination of factors; the building was condemned because this part of town had unclean water, and the building owner did not pay taxes and skipped town. It had been set for demolition, but to begin work would mean to close the crossroads and detour traffic, and trucks carrying new shipments of ONE took this route and exceeded the weight limit for the detour, leaving the building standing, but unused. The door opens with zero resistance. The front lobby, had the building been open to the public and adequately funded, would probably be lovely. Pristine, friendly, inviting. It was none of these things now. The tile is cracked, the furniture ransacked, obvious signs of former lovemaking had been left behind, and in the center of the room, on the floor, a spray-painted outline of a human figure with a dark brown splatter around their head (you're almost certain it's street art but cannot totally rule out "murder victim", regrettably), and large green letters spelt out along the floor. "NULLS GO TO HELL" You slowly turn to look at the rest of the carnage. A billiards table in the middle of the room, its green baize stained and torn, the cues snapped in half, a bite taken out of the remaining billiard ball (You do not wish to know _how_ one bites into a billiard ball successfully). Magazines with pages torn and people cut from the pages. Half of the menu from the former coffee shop, its partner lodged into the ceiling. "I see you found the place," a harsh alto voice calls from behind you, causing you to jump slightly and turn. Miriam looks not unlike how you remember her, about 5'2", pale lavender hair, and large round glasses. Today she is dressed in a black leather jacket, black jeans, green shoes, and a gray sweater that simply read "NULL" in corrupted text with red and blue afterimages. Miriam leads you down a hallway and into a small room one might use for a class. Twelve chairs in a circle sit in the middle of the room, with five of them occupied at the moment, you and Miriam make seven. They clap for you for just a moment, and you take a seat. "Hi," Miriam says, "and welcome to our Null awareness group. Our goal is to *N.A.G.* the government into stepping in against ONE as we feel it is dangerously unregulated and is creating class biases against those unable to use it. As you are new here, let us introduce ourselves. You probably already know me, I hope we found you in time." "My name's Mick," says a guy, about 6'3", dressed in a black shirt with a print of a rectangular design with gridlines labeled "T-120 Video Cassette" and blue jeans. "I'm 35, 36 in November, and I found this group not too long ago." "Emma," says another lady, about 5'8", dressed today in a green sweater and red tartan skirt. Light blue dyed hair framed her deeply-toned face. "I'm 22, and I've been with the group since I learned I was null five years ago." "George," says a third person, a guy you figure has to be 6'7", wearing cargo shorts and a green shirt. "I'm 30 as of last week, and I've been with the various forms of N.A.G. for eleven years." "Stacy," says a blond-haired woman in a white shirt, maybe just as tall as Mick. "46, and I'm with you kids all the way. Remember the first time I saw the pills hit store shelves, nearly died trying them in high school." "And I'm Grant," a young man in a black jacket declares. "17, just had my first bad experience with ONE this week. Miriam lives across the street from me and she was the one who helped me out. Moved here from South Korea six and a half years ago." You introduce yourself and [[take a seat. -> The Plan]]

Miriam steps up to a whiteboard in the back of the room and takes a marker from her pocket. "I'm going to make this quick, as there's a lot we might need to cover this week. I posted our manifesto last week, and it didn't go well. Had three officers arrive at my door and attempt to fine me for defamation, watched a bomb squad fail to defuse a situation in my mailbox three days ago and had to shell out for a new one, and the post made the state news. I didn't give out our location in the post, it's still just invite only, and I am still reading all the comments to try and find people like us. This group has grown and shrank, you've seen it yourself, George." "Most we've ever had was twenty-six," he comments. "What happened to the group? Why has it gotten smaller?" You begin to ask. "You don't want to know, hon," Stacy replies, cutting you off before you can suggest a possible reason. "Well, today we've got one more, looking forward to how this goes, maybe we'll find more," Miriam says, "going this public actually really helps. I can read through people threatening me all day if it means I help out even four or five people who feel ostracized in our world today. Now then, I'm thinking for our next demonstration, we need an unbiased individual in the medical field who we can interview about possible side effects of ONE. I have _some_ theories, but they are _just_ theories at the moment. Once we have some answers, I think we can then take that public, try to stir up a discussion about what people are putting in their bodies. The current strongest dose of ONE is six times stronger than what used to be available just thirty years ago, and the company is suggesting a 500 microgram dose might be available next year for their 30th anniversary, already twice as strong as what's available now. Seeing as even ten micrograms can make significant changes in one's temperament, behavior, and decision-making ability, there is no way fifty times that amount can be good for anyone, and this is not even getting into the delayed release versions of the drug. At the very least, it is creating chemical dependencies in people in a manner that cannot be healthy, and people need to know these companies are taking advantage of them. Once again, I don't think the masses will listen to us, but if it helps find more Null bodies, I will graciously accept it. And if you all feel comfortable, making posts of your own would really help matters. You can make a burner email, activate an account, post your own manifesto, and then direct them to my page, ~~@Miriam_nullbody~~. This would greatly help me find new members, and maybe one day we can have a full house again. Now, I'd like to take this time to open the floor, if anyone has any questions or comments on everything going on." Emma stands up. "I'd like to comment on a news piece I heard getting here today. There is a funeral for someone who was Null, I think their name was Nathan. It's planned for next Monday. Is anyone going? I think it'd be important to stand in solidarity." "I don't plan on it," George replies, "It's risky enough being out and about, but going to what will likely be a heavily picketed funeral will no doubt be dangerous." Emma sinks back into her seat. "Oh, alright." Miriam walks over to her and puts an arm around her. "Emma, we can do something for Nathan, maybe buy some flowers and leave them on a corner as a memorial. It's clear to me you have almost more heart than you know what to do with, and I want to help you any way I can." "Thanks," Emma replies. Stacy stands. "You know, this is _just_ anecdotal evidence, but I think I know what you mean when you discuss side effects of ONE. I'm a teacher and the principal at Wistful Oaks Elementary is definitely a fiend with the stuff. He's become more... I wouldn't say 'aggressive' or 'forceful', but maybe more... headstrong, about things in the past couple years. We found out of a new schedule system the day it was implemented, and when we found out the kids were staying an hour later than normal, kids who need rides home, he refused to take criticism when the parents complained, kicking them out of his office as they came in. He's become nearly impossible to work with as of late, and it's getting frustrating when big things change that quick and there's no way to push back against them." "I will definitely keep that in mind when I do find a doctor to interview, thanks," Miriam says, "Anyone else? No? Alright. If you can, please do your part to safely spread word about us, but let me hand out the address, just so I know who is invited. We'll meet in a week from now, so until then please do your part, but above all I want to see the six of you here then. Take care." On the way out, Miriam taps you on the shoulder. "Hey, thanks for coming along. I know you don't have much to say, being so new, but I do hope you'll have a story for next time. I'd like to compile everyone's anecdotes and publish them, because I feel we are the voices that need to be heard the most in our current day and age. Take care." Stepping out into the late evening sunset, most of your day's gone, so [[you return home. -> New Friends? A New Beginning?]]

billFirst: 0 GrocFirst: 0 grocFirst: GrocFirst -- A lot was on your mind, coming home and making dinner. You now have a support network, a first in your life. You had your parents, but there was always a tinge of disappointment in how they talked about you or to you. Being {reveal link: 'Null*', text: 'Null (having a word for this made you feel a lot more at ease)'} meant that they felt you weren't quite going to uphold their bloodline, as if the drug was the one thing that separated you from raising a family. Even then, you weren't sure you wanted one, if they were just going to end up in the same situation as the rest of the world, downing pill after pill and riding the euphoria out for the rest of their lives. Felt like a horrible place, a horrible time. Tomorrow is a free day. You aren't necessarily employed, you make your money doing remote contract IT and freelance graphic design work. None of your employers know about your condition, and requesting being paid exclusively in cash (foregoing any payment in complimentary ONE you might receive) isn't too uncommon as some people are particular over the flavor, duration, or strength of their ONE, or were more interested in a local flavor versus something more common. It makes enough to pay the rent and utilities, buy groceries, and not that much more. You have a nest egg of a couple thousand dollars, but even a basic injury could wipe nearly all of that out in a moment. You work five days a week, but can decide what two days you were not available, as long as you logged in five times weekly as reported in the company's deep learning schedule system. You have plans to set aside this Wednesday either way, as you had groceries to pick up and a bill to pay, but that should take all of three hours, at most. As for the order of events, it doesn't seem to matter. You could go [[grocery shopping first -> Groceries]], or [[pay the bill -> Pay the Bill]], it didn't matter to you.

billFirst: 1 billsFirst: billFirst BillsFirst: billFirst -- [if grocFirst === 0] Paying the bill first seems like a smarter idea to you. It would ensure that everything's fresh, and paying your bill's as easy as just walking into the bank and dropping payment, a single RFID electronic check in a security envelope, into an inbox in the lobby. Besides, the bank closes at noon, and the grocery store is more or less dead on Wednesday afternoons. [else] You arrive at the bank just fifteen minutes before they close. It'd be quick, you tell yourself as you got out of your car. [continue] As you enter the bank, you see someone has left fliers for some kind of [[ONE tasting party -> Possible Problems]] near the entrance, but you pay them no mind at the moment. Only when you make it to the inbox do you find it locked. [align center] ~~OUT OF ORDER~~ [cont] This meant you had to deal with a bank teller, and the particular teller here today was someone you recognized. She was a very staunch fan of ONE, using it constantly. You approach the teller, eyeing a bowl of loose pills left at the window like complimentary mints at a restaurant. "How can I help you?" she asks. "Just paying a bill," you respond, handing over the envelope. She takes the check out and nods, taking it to the computer. While it is getting scanned or processed or whatever, she leans over the counter and takes a small handful of the colorful pills, popping two of them like candy. "Feel free to help yourself!" she responded. You worried about how she might respond if you say you don't need them. [[You could bluff -> Had My Fill]], or just simply ignore her. [after 45 seconds] "Here you go!" she responds, handing back your check, covered in computerized text, with "VOID" written across the top center. You nod and start walking back to your car, but she stops you. "Hey, what flavor is your favorite? Did you have some?" Exactly what you were worried about. Cursing in the back of your head, you knew you could either [[fess up -> Null Body]] or just outright [[lie -> If It'll Get You Off my Back]], or you could just [[leave -> Not today!]] and hope it just comes off as you didn't hear her. At least you had options.

FoundFlier: 1 -- ONE tasting parties were not uncommon. Often a new flavor would come out and a group of people would try them together, someone buying a bottle or package large enough for the group to share, and them getting to bring the remainder home. The last one you remember seeing was about three months ago, for a cheese danish flavor. It was a public park near a small suburban campus of a local university. It was a single building and the park space in front of it, mostly used as a grad school. A group of six or seven students were reclined against the trees in the park chatting about the flavor. It looked vaguely pleasant, even after grappling with your own personal issues concerning ONE, but often they did get a bit rowdy. The address, 343 Graham Road, was right next to where your Null support group met, which you felt could cause problems. This one was to be held in two weeks. No new flavor was specified, but given that the entire row of contact slips cut into the paper had been taken, you assumed it was going to be packed. [[You pocket the flier. -> Pay the Bill]]

Bluffing seemed like the easiest solution to you. "Mint is my favorite," you said, "I always opt for a low dose over longer time. I've had my fill for probably the next week." "Oh, hold on, I might have more for you," she said, and you begin to curse under your breath. "Here you go!" she continues, handing the processed check and a small green pill. [align center] `ONE` `wintermint` `150 mcg` `fourteen days` [cont] "...Um, thanks," you reply, heading for the door, and she bows slightly. "Have a good day!" [if billFirst === 1 && GrocFirst === 1] You get out of there and round the corner, before chucking the loose mint pill into the trash and getting back into your car. That was the closest you had been to ONE in years, and after quickly sanitizing your hands, your day was done. [[You could head home. -> Home]] [else] You get out of there and round the corner, before chucking the loose mint pill into the trash and getting back into your car. That was the closest you had been to ONE in years, and after quickly sanitizing your hands, you've completed one of your two errands. You were now on your way to go pick up [[groceries -> Groceries]].

Outed: 1 -- You huffed a bit. "I'm Null, I can't have any," you admitted. She seemed confused. "But they say less than one-tenth of one percent of all people are Nu... are that. Maybe you just weren't in the right headspace? Surely you couldn't have a disease that rare!" "It's not a disease, and I know what I felt the first time I tried Null," you said. "My vision was filled with nightmarish hallucinations and I fell into a seizure. I could have died if it weren't for a doctor, and my parents won't let me hear the end of what happened that day, even if it was years ago." "I don't think I've ever met anyone who couldn't have ONE, I never thought they existed." "Well, we exist, and--" You caught yourself before letting loose on where your group visited. It was clearly a dilapidated building that people only abused because of who met there, was it worth it to spill the beans to a stranger? "--and if we don't want something, don't force it on us!" "Okay, but how big of a dose was it?" She asked. "I dunno, probably ten micrograms?" You reply. "You should try the lighter dose, and also a stronger one, too. Some people I know feel the stronger doses are a better time, and some of them like a five-mic-choc most of all of them. Also maybe you had an allergic reaction to the flavor? That could be it." "I can eat lemons and limes *no problem*, thank you!" you exclaimed, heading for the door, trying to ignore that ten micrograms was the smallest dose possible. "Why are you resisting this so much? ONE doesn't hurt people, or if it does, it's barely anyone!" she shouted. You ran the mental math in your head. "The 'official' statistic from the government is 0.05% of all people are null. That still means that there's nearly 200,000 people who *are* null in our country alone, and nearly five million in the world! *That* is barely anyone? There are fewer people living in Chicago." "It's just... you people are giving a harmless enhancer such a bad rap, and we're sick of it! If you don't like it, move!" "Eh, to hell with you," you mutter, as you go to pull the door open. [[It won't budge. -> Cornered]]

You sigh under your breath. "Um... ruby chocolate, and only the super high dosages," you say, trying to think of the most esoteric, obscure flavor you could and a dosage that no public area would just keep out in the open. She rifles through the bowl. "No ruby chocolate... I don't think they've made that one in the last few years, sorry." "Ah, well, then better luck next tim--" you begin. "But I *do* have a couple other rare flavors! Have you tried rum raisin? Oh, and how about Bloody Mary? And this is the newest rare flavor, imported from South Korea, they've got one that's Red Leicester cheese! Come on, try one!" Shit. [after thirty seconds] "...Um, I think I'll take one home with me," you say, opening your hand and returning to the counter. She hands you one, and you close your hand around it. "When you come back, tell me what you thought about it!" she responds, and you nod. [if billFirst === 1 && GrocFirst === 1] Exiting the bank and rounding the corner, you toss the pill into the trash and sanitize your hands. You were rather lucky that she didn't ask you take the pill right there in the lobby, as it would have really done you in. People who tended to use ONE a lot were very proactive about sharing pills, and she was no exception. But at least that ordeal is over. [[Time to go home. -> Home]] [else] Exiting the bank and rounding the corner, you toss the pill into the trash and sanitize your hands. You were rather lucky that she didn't ask you take the pill right there in the lobby, as it would have really done you in. People who tended to use ONE a lot were very proactive about sharing pills, and she was no exception. But at least that ordeal is over and you can finally [[go buy groceries. -> Groceries]]

BankIgnore: 1 -- You ignored her as you walked out of the bank. You weren't going to get suckered into dying in a bank lobby. Not today, at least. You get to your car and start it up, only to see her running out of the lobby door, still with a few pills in her hand. You back out of the parking lot and get onto the main road, avoiding eye contact the entire time. Whatever that was about, you hope you'll never know. [if billFirst === 1 && GrocFirst === 1] Driving back home, you put on [[an old CD from your grandfather -> The Past]] to try and take the edge off of everything. It had been a long day, a painful one to some extent, [[but it was nearly over at just noon. -> Home]] [else] Driving off towards [[the grocery store -> Groceries]] with only the quiet sound of [[your grandfather's old Jazz Fusion CD -> The Past]] coming from the radio.

Ages ago, your grandfather gave you one of his old CDs. "I listened to this a lot as a kid, and with you driving, I think you'll like having it keep you company on the road." You had never heard of Casiopea and were unsure what a "Mint Jam" is, but after some finagling to get a disk reader, you got the music onto your computer and later, your phone. For an album over half a century old, it had a real timeless feel, and it strongly reminded you of how much things have changed in such a short span of time. Your father was one of the first people to try ONE. It was only available in chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, or an unflavored variant when it first came out, and was merely meant as a stimulating supplement. He had gotten some just to help him study as he thought it'd act like the uppers he was used to, coffee and soda helped him study late into the night and cram for finals. Instead, it caused him to develop such a rush of emotion he called his then-friend Marissa and immediately propose to her, and within two months the two were married, and by the end of that academic year, they both had degrees. You were born the day new flavors were revealed. Pineapple, cherry, coconut, and orange made up the second wave, and introduced a new extended-release variant, as well as a 20 microgram doseage. What was at first just eight different variations of ONE had become 48 combinations of flavor, duration, and potency, and the number quickly spiraled out of control there. You remember coming home from school at the age of eight to find your father in an absolute rush, cooking tirelessly to ensure he had a fancy meal for mom when she got home from work. A new 50 microgram dose and a cognac flavor had done this to him, and when she returned home to a four-course meal and her favorite variety of ONE (~~root beer / 20 mcg / six hours~~), you quickly found yourself pushed outside to play with the other kids. One of them, and older kid now in middle school, had found out where his parents kept the pills and was interested in trying them. Six years later, children ages 12 and up had been cleared to use ONE {reveal link: 'recreationally in your country*', text: 'recreationally in your country (no doubt due to excessive corporate lobbying and a multi-billion dollar ad campaign)'}, and for your birthday you had gotten a pack of lemon lime ones. Just ten micrograms, and only for an hour, just so you could get a feel for them. Your parents had set up a camcorder to record this moment, and you [[took the first pill out of its case and popped it into your mouth. -> Disappointment]]

config.style.page.style: "thick-line" config.style.page.borderColor: "#f12da1" config.style.page.color: "#2bfd88" config.style.backdrop: "#dad023" config.style.page.link.color: "#9d19e8" config.style.page.link.active.color: "#8166b3" config.style.page.link.lineColor: "#8166b3" config.body.transition.name: "none" -- Within not even a minute, you had felt your vision blur. Color became indecipherable, everything pulled back, the only thing visible being what was directly in front of you, feeling a mile away. Your hands shook with a sickening vigor, and you could feel yourself choke. You weren't sure on what. [after 9 seconds] Figures appeared in the dark void around you. [after 14 seconds] They were glaring at you, calling you names. [after 15 seconds] You felt their searing hot claws dig into your skin. [after 17 seconds] The world spun, faster and faster, [after 18 seconds; append] disorienting and startling, [after 19 seconds; append] and loud sounds, almost carnival music [after 20 seconds; append] tore through your brain. [after 20030ms; append] All at once, [after 20050ms; append] Your vision lit up, [after 20080ms; append] eyes on every surface, [after 20100ms; append] snapping around the room to [after 20120ms; append] observe every bright yellow and red [after 20140ms; append] surface [after 20170ms; append] webs and cracks forming on [after 20200ms; append] the walls and ceiling, and [after 20250ms] [[all at once gravity shifted -> Null You]]

config.style.page.style: "thick-line" config.style.page.borderColor: "#ffffff" config.style.page.color: "#FFFFFF" config.style.backdrop: "#000000" config.style.page.link.color: "#B9FFB9" config.style.page.link.active.color: "#008800" config.style.page.link.lineColor: "#008800" REinjection: 1 config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" -- That was when you learned you were null. [after 10 seconds] You had shut off the CD a while ago, thinking of what had transpired that day still shook you to the core. You swore you could feel that white-hot pain of your spinal column shutting down if you thought about it hard enough. You were rushed to a doctor that day, forced to vomit via an activated charcoal pill and given an injection of... something, and that was that. You felt like you should reach back out to Miriam to figure out if she knew what you were given, that might help your research into what ONE is. [if billsFirst === 1 && GrocFirst === 1] You sighed, and put the car in park. You had made it home after a long day, even after reliving that trauma. You pushed yourself through the door with your groceries, and laid on the couch for a moment, choking back tears. [[You were home. -> Home]] [else] You sighed, and put the car into park. You had arrived at your destination, somehow, despite dredging up old trauma. You hoped a shopping trip would keep your mind off that day. [[As if it would. -> Groceries]]

GrocFirst: 1 -- [if billFirst === 0] Getting groceries first seems like the best idea. The route from home to the bank passes the store anyways, and it's not like your trip to the bank should take all that long. You feel confident you could get everything done before the bank closed at noon. [else] After your ordeal at the bank, you have finally made it to the grocery store. Sighing, you shut your car off and walk into the store, greeted by the burst of cold air that hits you when you walk in. [continue] Part of you hates going into stores these days because they are absolutely littered with ads, and invariably most advertisements are for ONE. You thought that given the massive market saturation they've achieved, they wouldn't need to advertise as heavily. Nearly everyone you know uses ONE [[at least a little -> Normal]], and the marketing has been aggressive for as long as you can remember. Many products even come with a free sample, a single pill in a metallic pouch attached to the product, though you often just throw the pouches away and have no idea if anyone even wants them at this point. The list isn't anything major. You need bread and eggs, some pasta, sauce, and vegetables could last you for a few days' worth of meals, maybe some frozen dinners, and if you're feeling particularly generous towards yourself, maybe another bottle of kombucha. You brush past a few people, some of them blatantly more lucid than others, and began to hit your list one object at a time. "Hey, care to try the next flavor of ONE coming out next month? We have an exclusive look at the next Seasonal collection!" says a man in a black shirt with Corporation ONE's logo on it, a woman clad in a similar shirt standing by with an unlabeled bottle. "No thanks," you say, not giving the man another thought, reaching past him for a loaf of bread, "very busy." It's a trick that works better than it had any right to, honestly. The rest of your list goes without incident, you even [[spot Emma out and about -> Don't Go Alone!]] during your trip. You finally gather together your entire order and start for a checkout. The shelves are lined with [[various types of ONE, in various packages. -> Monopoly Money]].

Lazarus: Lazarus + 1 BankCornered: 1 -- You snap your head back to the woman and see she has pressed a button under her desk. You look around and see just two other people in the lobby, both employees. You cursed this slow day for the bank long and hard in your mind. "I'll let you go if you try just one," she bargained. "Back off!" you exclaim. [[You wondered if another employee could help out -> Requesting Backup]], but for the time being, you had some tricks up your sleeve. "What would it take to convince you that ONE will kill me?" You ask. "I dunno, it just seems like you might be making that up is all." "Why would I make up that I would *die*?!" you exclaim. "Attention, for one," she responds. [after 25 seconds] ...You suddenly have a plan. It's a bit nuts, though. [after 30 seconds] You walk up again. "You want me to die in your lobby? Fine! I really hope you've got the morgue on stand-by. And a carpet cleaner, too." She recoils a little. "Now, hold on--" You grab a single pill out of the bowl, eye it, then turn slightly. Your face is now out of view, and you stick a finger in your mouth while still clutching the pill out of harm's way. Your gag reflex kicks in, and you begin to retch in the lobby. "Wait, that's not..." "There's still time!" you cry, coughing. She releases the magnetic lock on the door and rushes over to you, trying to perform the Heimlich maneuver. You double over and cough violently, dropping the pill onto the ground during it all. While this all was a facade, it was still an exhausting one. You roll onto your back, taking deep breaths. [after 40 seconds] You finally get out of the bank. Tired from the ordeal of having to fake the beginning stages of your own death just to leave the bank, you silently swear off this place and will look into paying your bills electronically next month. [[You hope shopping will take your mind off this -> Groceries]]

Outed: Outed + 1 -- You walk over to one of the employee's offices and knock on their door. A portly man with balding hair and glasses emerges. "Wes Chesterfield," he said, pointing to his name badge, "did you need help with a loan?" "More like help with a *loon*," you stopped yourself from saying. "I had a question for you that I'd like to address in private, actually." "Oh, certainly! Let's hurry it up, I'm *famished* and trying to get us closed up soon." As he closed the door, you turned to him. "Then it's important you hear me out. Look sir, I'm just trying to pay a bill, but your teller has hit the switch on the door lock so I can't leave." "Ah, I see. Your check bounced?" He asked. You brandish the check. "No, had no problems with the check. It's that she wants me to pop a pill in here! Look, I'm null, and--" "Pardon?" he asked. "I can't take ONE, it'll kill me, and--" "A most improbable affliction, but do continue," "...There's at least a couple hundred thousand of us, so we're no smaller a demographic than the number of people who live in Burbank in California. Anyways, I'm not looking to die. I need your help to get out of here." "Well, I suppose I do owe it to a continued customer to make sure they can keep spending," he said with a chuckle, "come with me, and play along." He opened the door and turned to you. "Well, that should be everything with your new loan taken care of. Come with me and we can make a copy of the paperwork. I do hope your no-kill animal shelter does well!" You quickly shift into character. "I hope so, too. All those raccoons could really use a home, and we've worked so hard to rehabilitate and domesticate the ones we've taken in." You follow the man into a service room. "Okay, so I'm going to trip the breaker to the security system. When they ask why their system went down tomorrow, I'll tell them the actual breaker went bad. You'll duck out of the fire exit here, and I'll then go ask Lindsey to run an errand to buy you an alibi as to how you left without having you walk past her. Godspeed." [if billFirst === 1 && GrocFirst === 1] He clicks a fat black switch in the breaker panel, and ushers you out a recessed door marked ~~FIRE EXIT. ALARM WILL SOUND.~~ As no alarm sounds and you walk back to your car, you sigh in relief. That had no right to work as well as it did. You are out of sight and out of mind, and your secret remains safe. [[Time to get out of here. -> Home]] [else] He clicks a fat black switch in the breaker panel, and ushers you out a recessed door marked ~~FIRE EXIT. ALARM WILL SOUND.~~ As no alarm sounds and you walk back to your car, you sigh in relief. That had no right to work as well as it did. You are out of sight and out of mind, and your secret remains safe. [[Time to get out of here. -> Groceries]]

Most {reveal link: '"normal*"', text: '"normal" (as if using this stuff is any form of normal in the long run)'} people you knew used ONE, if even just a little. There were definitely some radical outliers day-to-day, for sure. Some people would take entire handfuls of high-power, short-duration ONE and ride out an incredible high that left them nearly entirely unresponsive. You knew a couple people who would chain doses together, spending the entire day blissful and affectionate. You also knew people who would only use a ten microgram dose on very special occasions, some people who only took ONE because it was the only thing they could get their hands on in particular flavors; finding dulce de leche or maple bourbon candies was nearly impossible outside of specialist shops, and if you get a low, quick dose, the actual effect didn't really matter. But most of your peers throughout high school and college took ONE usually once or twice a week. Mostly before dates or hookups or just as a pick-me-up on bad days. In most cases, using ONE works quickly and seemingly harmlessly. You would swallow the pill, nearly immediately feel a pleasant warming sensation across your skin, and then as the chemicals in the pill were metabolized, you would feel happier and livelier, personal relationships would feel closer, intimacy and physical touch more welcome and satisfying, and it would slowly leave your system after the first few minutes. Unless you were null, you never felt worse having taken ONE than you did prior to using it, and as such it was legally classified as "non-habit forming". It could be argued that wanting to feel happiness and pleasure though and having easy access to that feeling instantly for a cost that was at worst the price of dinner for four could be deemed some kind of habit, you argued. If something feels good, why wouldn't someone want to feel that way as long as possible? It's why, you felt, people would chain together longer doses, setting reminders and alarms to take another pill after a few days. Actually, this was why the original extended-release formula came out: 150 mcg over fifteen days was less potent than the standard 30 mcg dose, but it spread that sensation out over a longer period so people wouldn't need to take it as often. Then when it was found out that the upper limit for ONE was well above what people thought, what was once a pill that lasted two weeks became one that would burn through your system in just twelve hours, magnifying the sensation by thirty. Over time, people had kind of fallen into four camps. There were people who would take large sums, pumping their body with what had to be thousands of micrograms of ONE, and just basking in the euphoric stupor it left them in, too blissed out to even move if asked. You had people who would take the extended release regularly to keep an elevated mood throughout their day, you had people who took it when the need arises, having it at the ready to give them a hand in social activities. And then there were people like you. Null bodies. You were by far the smallest camp, and you were hoping the support group you had found would alleviate that. [[But maybe you had gotten off-track. -> Groceries]]

At long last, you've made it home. [if Lazarus === 2] As you wash down your groceries, you consider that today, you experienced two attempts on your life. Whether they meant it to or not, people just will not leave someone not on ONE alone. It's seen as taboo, to some degree, that any love you might feel is false, or not enough, but to try and force it on others? It makes you sick, it truly does. [continue] [if FoundFlier === 1] You worry about the ONE tasting party being so close to your Null support group. It seems deliberate, it almost always is, as Corporation ONE's marketing has more or less made Null bodies seem like antagonists. In one particularly infamous advertisement, a group of people parting are stopped by someone who fit all of the then-stereotypes of those who are Null. An older, balding, overweight man with thick glasses and a hunched posture told them in an exaggerated lisp that they're being "too cool" and need to stop. When the kids simply shrug their shoulders and take more ONE, he immediately flies into a meltdown, kicking against the floor and pounding his fists in outrage, threatening to call the cops on them, only for the final shot in the ad being an officer crowdsurfing while pills tumble out of his bottle of ONE. The ad was pulled, no doubt thanks to ONE support groups, who tend to be typecast as no fun and temperamental, a dying breed you won't have to deal with eventually. It was kind of sickening that that's how people like you were seen, and you still are. Corporation ONE never apologized for the advertisement, they simply just pushed it aside for a recut that emphasized just how much better ONE made parties. The man was still in the original ad, on-screen for exactly two seconds in shots they could not have redone. [continue] [if Outed >= 1] You worried about how you had been outed today. People don't take kindly to finding out you are Null. That was a generalization, of course, there were a handful of allies in the world. Your roommate at University believed you the first time you told him of your affliction, and he would only do ONE when you weren't around, whether that be taking the pills at the washroom mirror and then washing his hands to avoid cross-contamination, or simply planning around your schedule for when he would invite his girlfriend over, waiting for a day you'd be out of town or at the very least, busy elsewhere most of the day. He was nice enough that you personally chose him to be your roommate the entire time you were on-campus, because you feared what might have happened otherwise. Still, you had to be careful. If enough people know about you, and then learn about Miriam, they could track down where she lives or where N.A.G. meets, and then you wouldn't have a support group anymore. You shuddered thinking about what that could mean for your future. [continue] It had been a really difficult day for a number of reasons. You finally got everything put away and sat on the couch. A talk show was on, in which the host asked their guests ten questions, then had them all take a ludicrous amount of ONE (two 200mcg pills, each with a two-hour duration), and then ask them the same ten questions. Most of the second half of the interview was either the guests pawing at one another or the host, feebly answering questions while their brains were absolutely inundated with serotonin. You change the channel. A cooking show that suggests that to spice up your love live, you mix ONE into the dishes. A pasta whose flour contains crushed pills, a soup stock that includes the gel contents of the more luxury pills, lamb served with a ONE mint sauce. The next channel, a cartoon in which a character has their orange-flavored one swapped out for anchovy-flavored. "Yuck!" he shouts to the heavens next to his date, "I hate anchovies!!" His date, who was a fish with human arms and legs, slaps him and runs off sobbing. Unfortunately, there was an anchovy-flavored ONE pill. It was a limited release years ago, but its inclusion is the least outlandish part of this scene. Eventually, you settle for a 24-hour broadcast of the local weather. The music is very dated, but very soothing, and the radar images of clouds rolling past on a loop of the past few hours was quite pleasant. The channel never took commercial breaks, it was all publicly funded, making it more or less the safest channel for Null bodies. The music filled you with a strange and familiar sense of nostalgia, for a time you simply do not remember, and [[You hope things will be better in the morning, -> Some Time Passes...]]

REInjection: 1 EmmaBuddy: 1 -- You approach Emma as she picks out a cereal. "Oh, hi!" she says, turning towards you as she leaves the aisle, "you're that one person from that one group!" "The one and only," you reply. "It's so nice to see someone I know I can trust out and about," she says, "would you want to help me with my shopping while you do yours?" "I'm mostly done, but yeah, sure," you reply. "So I still need preserves, a can of crushed tomatoes, some mushrooms, and then I'd like to pick up some cheese. So... how have things been?" she asks. [if billFirst === 1] You explain your hassles at the bank to Emma, and as you follow your anecdote through you see her face go from a friendly and inviting one to one creased with visible disgust. "Sorry you had to go through all that," she says. [else] "Nothing much, you say. "That's a relief," she says, brushing a strand of hair off of her face. [continue] "As for me, last night was a wreck. I went out to a club and someone slipped *something* into my drink. I think it might have been the bartender, he was hitting on me and my drink never left my sight. One of my friends keeps activated charcoal on her and she gave me some, and then when the medics arrived they jabbed me with some kind of needle. I spent the night in the hospital, got checked out maybe 5:30 this morning, and now here I am." "Do you know what kind of injection?" You ask. "I don't remember that much. I think I heard them call it Servo-something, it definitely started with an S. But within just a few minutes it had totally burned up what the charcoal couldn't deal with in time, and afterwards I felt really lightheaded and sleepy. If you're going out anywhere, please bring a buddy." "Like you?" you reply quickly. "Ye-- oh, *you*!" she cries, gently punching you on the arm. "I think I've got everything now. Oh, and before I forget, here:" She hands you her phone open to a contacts page, and you fill out the relevant information. "Let me do the same for you." She ventures towards a checkout lane and gives a big wave back, and you do the same. You two are separated by a diving wall [[lined with ONE products. -> Monopoly Money]]

ONE was onmipresent. There was no getting around that. It's not a public, open-source design, either. Corporation ONE was a former pharmaceutical company that mostly made prescription painkillers and anxiety medications before ONE hit the scene. Since then, and thanks to some help from their marketing department and bribing some legislators, they've enjoyed a massive boost to their profits and the ability to be the only company on Earth that makes these kinds of pills, changing their name to suit the bulk of their business. There were competitors, ages ago. Eros was a rival pill that worked very similarly, but they saw themselves decimated and bought out within six months. Ditto anyone else who tried to follow suit, Corporation ONE's patent on the substance was incredible in its scope and depth, essentially forbidding anyone from making a recreational drug that produces "non-habit-forming euphoria". It should seem that ONE should be in one kind of packaging, to lessen the costs. New varieties could be packaged as simply as slapping a new label on a blank plastic bottle, but that was not quite the case. ONE packaging ranged from elaborate boxes that opened and unfolded to celebrate a new flavor or expensive variety, to ordinary bottles, to cheap blister packs in a cardboard box. The pills themselves also varied, with some being very small tablets, some being pills that contained tiny orbs of some description, some being pills full of liquid, and the most expensive versions being a sort of oblong clear vaguely gummy shape. The only instance of the latter you can think of was five years ago, a 200 mcg "gold-gilded vanilla bourbon" pill meant to celebrate the company's anniversary. The packaging was elaborate and fancy, with gold leaf imprints and a sonnet written out two lines at a time during the unboxing experience. Inside was just two pills, and they were this clear white thing with gold flecks in it. It looked more like jewelry than a drug. Maybe they still do things like this, you don't know. Sure as heck shouldn't be going into people's mouths, though. While you ruminate about the variety of forms ONE takes, the line had advanced to the point where you had put your groceries on the belt. "Looking at the ONE, huh?" the cashier asks. "I'm thinking of getting the Creme Soda flavor after work. Do you have a favorite? If we don't have it, we can get it in if you just ask!" [after 60 seconds] You were worried about that. It does look like you're eyeing the shelves for your favorite flavor, doesn't it? You could [[just lie to the cashier -> Just Topped Off]], that'd be easy enough. [[You could buy some of the cheapest stuff, maybe they could come in handy later? -> Save the Packaging!]], or you could just [[as easily ignore her. -> Shhh!]]

"Actually, I'm good," you say, "just topped off my supply at home." "Oh! What'd you get!" the cashier says. "Wintermint, something like 200 micrograms," you lie, making up a flavor and dosage. "Oh, nice! I have a friend who _swears_ by the mint flavors! Alright, your total is on the keypad, just go ahead and insert your card when you're ready." As you begin to walk through the steps to pay for your groceries, the cashier speaks up. "Have you tried the peppermint variety? Oh, and what about sweet mint or bee balm?" "Pretty strict on just the wintermint, reminds me of a gum I used to get. Really hope it comes back in style," you continue, "but until then... wintermint's my go-to." "And what will you do when that gum comes back?" she asks. "...I don't know," you conclude, grabbing your bags and leaving. [if billFirst === 1 && GrocFirst === 1 && Outed >= 1] That could have been a bit less awkward. Today didn't go as planned, and you ended up outing yourself to a couple people. You hope that doesn't come back to bite you later. Hoping to put that behind you, [[you drive home. -> Home]]. [if billFirst === 1 && GrocFirst === 1 && Outed === 0] Today has been a mess. Between an awkward conversation with the cashier and a confrontation with the bank teller that nearly ended with you either being outed or worse, you're exhausted and it's only just barely noon. You sigh, [[and start driving home. -> Home]] [else] You get back into your car. This excursion feels cursed, just given the experiences you had with the cashier. Hopefully [[the bank treats you better. -> Pay the Bill]]

HasOneBox: 1 -- It was going to be an expensive lie, but you figure it's the easiest way to get through this situation. "I actually think I found it," you say, tossing the cheapest package of ONE onto the belt. "Vanilla bean, 20 micrograms, 1 hour! ...N--Nice," she replies with a weak smile. It's clear to both of you that you picked what is probably thought of to be the most boring type of ONE available. Some might say your choice was quite... vanilla. But it'd stop any future conversation. After paying, you pick up your two reusable bags' worth of groceries and head back to your car. [if billFirst === 1 && GrocFirst === 1] Today has been a day. You were accosted by two different service people just trying to do normal errands. You swallowed an uncomfortable thought about just how often you deal with this, [[and start to head home. -> Home]]. [else] You get back into your car. The bank closes very soon, and you still have bills to pay. You're hoping they haven't locked the drop-off box by now. A part of you feels like the point of a drop-off box is that it could be accessed during off-hours, but you can simply shrug. [[Off to the bank! -> Pay the Bill]]

Lazarus: Lazarus + 1 -- You simply ignore the cashier, and she drops the conversation. She bluntly tells you your total, and you pay. No "thanks for shopping!" on the way out from her, either. You assume you've succeeded, until you put the bags away. One tips, and out spills a number of loose ONE pills. She must have slipped you some when you were paying. You take everything out of the bags and round up the rogue pills. There's about twelve, and briefly investigating one of them confirms your fears: they're among the more expensive gel-filled type. There is a good chance that some of these pills could have ruptured and have now essentially poisoned your groceries. It's no use trying to report this, as people so rarely take a Null's cries about the dangers of ONE seriously, so you just make note to wash down your groceries when you get home. [if billFirst === 1 && GrocFirst === 1] It has been a hell of a day. You really don't get why people act like this, but you hope that at the very least, this is as bad as it gets. [[Time to head home. -> Home]] [else] You get back into your car. There's about 20 minutes before the bank closes, and they tend to start locking things up a little early. Hopefully paying bills isn't any sort of ordeal. [[Only one way to find out. -> Pay the Bill]]

Some time had passed, life moved on. Things weren't that bad, to some respect, but you still felt they could have been a whole lot better. People still pushed ONE at you, advertisements on the radio and television emphasized just how much better it made everything, and public events centered on the pill were as prevalent as ever. It was now Tuesday once again. You arrived to the rec center and made your way to the room you met in last week. You had arrived second, after Miriam, who was preparing stacks of papers at one of the desks. "Oh, nice to see you again!" she said, making half a second's worth of eye contact, "So glad you made it to your second week. Do you have any stories we can work through today?" "I do," you reply, nodding. Over time, the rest of your group arrived. Grant and Stacy arrived next, the former having gotten a ride from the latter. George arrived about a minute later, and Emma and Mick were the last to arrive. "Alright, welcome back! It's been a busy week for all of us, no doubt, and I have some things I'd like to work through, but first, I want to hear from you all. How was this week?" Grant stood up. "On Thursday, I went to a coffee shop to meet with some kids from my physics class, we're working on a group project, and I was dejected to learn many of the things on their menu contained ONE." Miriam nodded sagely. "Unfortunately, we're seeing that more and more. It sounds like a Eugenics plot to me, a way to get rid of people like us. We're not different for not wanting a dangerous drug! If you want my advice, regular black coffee and any items on the kids' menus are still safe, they have not approved ONE for those under twelve and probably won't. People on puberty blockers already face a number of unfortunate side-effects not unlike those of Null Bodies, even if they could take the drug 'just fine' before." [if EmmaBuddy ===1] Emma stood up. "I went out shopping earlier in the week, and I met up with someone from the group!" she said, "I was talking about how at the bar a few nights before, I think the bartender slipped something into my drink." [else] Emma stood up as Grant took a seat. "A few nights ago, I was at the bar, and I believe the bartender slipped some ONE into my drink." [continue] Miriam placed a hand on Emma's shoulder. "I'm very glad you're still here. Your circle of friends clearly took very good care of you and I'm glad they can see past you being Null to see you as one of them. If you need a way out, just lie. Tell them you don't want ONE in it because you're keen on a specific flavor or already had a dose. Worst-case scenario, the drink you order is spiked one way or another." [if REInjection === 1 && EmmaBuddy === 1] "I actually had a question," you say, before Miriam could switch gears, "Emma was telling me she got some kind of injection, I was wondering if you knew anything about that?" She nodded at you. "I do, actually, [[if you'd like to discuss that. -> Big Shot]]" "...Maybe in a bit," you reply, and Miriam opens the floor back up. [continue] George was the next to stand. "So I heard that there's going to be a ONE tasting party across the street next week, I was hoping anyone knew anything more about that so we could plan around it." Miriam racked her brain for a moment. "I don't know anything about that personally, but I have no reason not to believe it." [if FoundFlier === 1] You thought about the flier you had. You actually took it from the bank and brought it with, just in case. [[Might be a worthwhile time to bring it up. -> Frequent Flier]] [continue] Mick stood this time. "I have a lead on a doctor. I was fixing a guy's transmission the other day and was chatting him up. Turns out that he's been a consultant for Corporation ONE for about five years. I've got his phone number, if anyone wants it. [if Lazarus > 0] Given your near-misses with fate, being able to finally confront someone with legitimate medical experience over your condition and society at large feels like a fantastic opportunity to [[get some actual answers. -> Dr. Kutsuki]] [continue] "It would be nice to get in touch with people from the medical community," Miriam said, "so I might have to cop that number from you." Stacy went next. "So yesterday, I accidentally outed myself. I know, foolish of me. Someone offered me some ONE at a movie and I told him 'No thanks, I'm allergic.' Felt like the right answer at the time." Miriam winced. "I've been there a few times, honestly. Tell them as little as you can and leave it at that. If you do fess up, just saying your allergic is a great answer; most varieties of ONE use natural flavorings so if you do have a peanut allergy, the traces in say, a peanut butter flavor would be triggering, and so on. While it's incredibly helpful to spread awareness--y'know, N.A.G. the government into stepping in and all--it is also imperative that you spare yourself from giving out more details than you need, especially given the picketing going on at funerals and the like. I want us to be hidden from people who hate us but visible to those who are Null, that's the plan. Anyone else?" There was really only you. [[It was time to share your anecdote. -> What a day]]

"Go on," you say. "So if you've accidentally ingested ONE, then you've probably gotten some activated charcoal, and then a shot. Saviodrone is the name of that shot. It works in three steps. The first thing is does is effectively numb your metabolic processes. Anything you ingested will have a hard time getting processed for about half an hour. After that gets to work, Saviodrone floods your body with adrenaline, spiking your heart rate and effectively burning through the effects of what residual ONE is in your system in a few seconds. And then from there, to ensure that you recover from what's more or less a panic attack in a syringe, the final part of the shot effectively 'resets' your hormones, flushing what's in your system. It all puts a lot of stress on your body, which is why most people who get Saviodrone say they feel exhausted after getting it. There's still a lot I'd like to know about it, mostly because the only way most people know its name is that it's embossed onto the side of the syringe housing." "Would you want us to figure out where it comes from?" You ask. "Us?" Miriam says, "I had some other plans to go over, but if you and someone else--" "Emma," you say, "she told me that story Wednesday. We could try to look up where Saviodrone comes from and get in touch with its creator." "Sure, if you really wish to. Now then, [[did anyone else have any other stories? -> The Curious Case of Saviodrone]]

You take out the flier, and Miriam pins it to the whiteboard with a magnet. "ONE tasting party... across the street... next week... looks like Corporation ONE is livestreaming their plans for next year that day, talking about what new flavors are coming out. That is definitely going to get rough. Does anyone know anyone who could help with security or some alternative place we can meet?" Stacy spoke up. "There's some woods outside my house. They're pretty clean, it could be like a field trip of sorts! And then if people ask, we're some outdoors enthusiasts." "I could clear my schedule at the garage, get a couple hours of no appointments," Mick said, "my boss has used our bay for longer and for more pointless things. We couldn't take any appointments a few months ago for a football game. Miriam nodded. "We will definitely consider a different meeting area, then. I don't have any specifics yet, but I will have them by Friday. I'll get in touch via text once I know where we're going. The last thing I want is for this to end up with someone getting hurt. It's nice to know more about these kinds of events, [[thank you." -> Casing the Joint]]

"What was that phone number?" You ask. Mick hands you a slip of paper. The name at the top, "Dr. Takashi Kutsuki", and below it, his phone number. "Let us know what comes of that," Miriam says, "maybe record it, too. Would be nice to have someone finally confess ONE's more dangerous than we've all thought. Mood swings, irritability, chemical and psychological dependencies, and that's just getting into how it effects the people who can take it regularly!" You nod, and Miriam continues [[with her group meeting. -> Making the Call]]

"So Wednesday, I had to get groceries and pay a bill, and both places had someone pushing ONE at me. Frankly? The bank teller was worse than the person from Corporation ONE!" "How so?" [if Outed > 1] "She figured out I was Null but refused to believe it, so I had to get someone to help me sneak out the back!" [else] "She just kept asking more and more pressing questions about the ONE I take, and I didn't want to answer those questions and out myself!" [continue] "So sorry you had to deal with that," Miriam says. [if BankCornered === 1] "I'm not even finished, is the worst part. The teller locked the door on me. Thought I was going to die." [continue] [if BankIgnore === 1] "At that point, I just walked out. It's just not worth it," you continue. [else] "It was just a nightmare all around, frankly. Hate going out in public with people like this," you continue. [continue] "Such a shame people can't act right anymore," Miriam said. [if REInjection > 0] "And during that day, it got me thinking about my own experience with ONE. Tried it once, just the worst. They gave me a shot of something, curious as to what it was." [["Saviodrone?" Miriam asked. -> Big Shot]] [continue] "So that's my story," you conclude. Miriam nods once more. "Well, it's been a rough week for all of us, but hopefully this can bring a bit more light to the week. I printed out the Null Body Manifesto. I spent all night touching it up, adding what sources I have. I implore you to keep a copy for yourself, and maybe a few more to leave around. Tape them to posts, pin them to corkboards, leave a couple copies on desks out and about. Do it safely, and hopefully this will help spread the word. The original manifesto just broke one million hits. Most of them negative, but with them I've gotten eleven new comments from people who feel the same way as we do. Many of them are overseas, but one person is relatively local, only about an hour South of here. Their name is Jeff, they'll probably be here next week. Though if those rumors about a tasting party are true, that will pose some issues for getting him to us. We'll figure it out." She then hands out a second print-out of another Null Activist Group social media page. "There was an incident of someone who is Null being assaulted at a local club," Miriam said. "Please don't go it alone if you're going out in public. This was posted by a group from out of London, and I feel it's important to keep in mind when you do go out. Partner up, watch your bartender mix your drink, toss a drink if you left and are coming back to it, and if you absolutely need help, request Saviodrone *by name*, most establishments will carry one or two syringes. That won't automatically out you as Null, keep in mind, it also helps people who have adverse reactions to allergens in ONE, and some people report negative reactions to certain kinds of pills. Just don't tell them anything more than you have to." *** You leave NAG that day stressed from recounting your ordeal. Next week seems like it's going to be a bit better, at least. You set the new papers on the kitchen table, make a quick meal, and spend the rest of the night working. [[Hopefully next week will go better. -> Find Something to NAG About]]

Your search into what exactly Saviodrone is has thus far turned up next to nothing. What it does is well documented, but searching for Saviodrone online just pulls up forum posts from people discussing it, but no primary sources. It isn't until nearly an hour into web searches that you find a good image of the syringe. It's a plastic tube about the diameter of a thick marker, made of white plastic. A sticker on the side of the image shows the user where to inject it into someone, and reminds them to call emergency services. Embossed onto the top is Saviodrone, and a patent number. That patent number might be the key, you figure. You quickly look up the patent number in a new tab and find "Automatic pressure-sensitive injector", which describes the method in which one could make an injector needle that requires the user only apply pressure to both ends in order to deploy the needle. The inventors include a number of names you start to write down, but you are stopped when you see the current asignee: Corporation ONE. They are a pharmaceutical company that does have a number of hands in a number of pockets, that much is true. Corporation ONE also manufactures generic albuterol inhalers, medical braces, and a number of generic painkillers, antihistimines and the like, but the fact that they also hold the rights to at least part of the Saviodrone manufacture process really sickens you. You share your findings with Emma over a chat application. "What do you think this means?" You ask. "I think this means I need to set up an interview with someone at Corporation ONE," she replies. You were worried about it coming to this, honestly. In much the same manner as one tearing down a wasp's nest with their bare hands, you had to venture into the heart of a beast that well and truly wanted you dead. You shuddered at the thought, but steeled yourself nonetheless. [if HasOneBox === 1] You suddenly get up and head to your cabinets. That package of ONE you bought could come in handy. A brief search on the box reveals that Corporation ONE's office isn't terribly far away. You could very well just [[travel there alone -> Solo Mission]], if desired. [after 30 seconds] You ultimately decide, though, that it might be worth it to bring a friend. [continue] "I'll let you set that up," you reply, and [[wait. -> Troubled Waters]]

HA: 0 GAR: 0 MIR: 0 BAS: 0 -- While Miriam is still hashing out the details of the venue you and the group will call home next week, it wouldn't hurt to have extra options. Your apartment is next door to some relatively noisy neighbors, but surely there's somewhere in here that you could call home to the group for an hour or two. Heading down to the main desk, the doorman nods at you. "How's it going?" they ask. "Hey, so my... *tabletop group* might come by next week, we're looking for a kind of quiet venue in here, we don't want to disturb my neighbors. Do you have anything like that?" They think for a second. "Maybe. Come with me." They open an "employees only" door and lead you down a flight of stairs. You've never been in the apartment's basement before, and it's just as dingy and humid as you had expected. He opens a door, leading to a small carpeted room with a computer, a desk, and one chair. "How many more chairs do you need?" he asks. "Probably seven," you reply, before he leaves the room to grab a stack of folding chairs. The room is musty, sitting in it, you feel disconnected from time. This room could exist at any point from you figure 1980 to now, any two photographs taken in this room, no matter how many years apart, would look nearly identical. But hey, it's close by and would do in a pinch. [[It's just down to whether you let Miriam know. -> This is the Place]] The doorman returns with the remaining three chairs. "There we go. This was a utility closet, but we've just installed some new locking cabinets at the base of the stairs, it's a lot more convenient. We don't really have plans for this space just yet, though." "...I'll think about it," you reply, [[before returning upstairs. -> Maybe Somewhere Else]]

That night, you sit at home, staring at the paper. You dread the phone call, frankly. You need an alibi, an alter ego. Why would you want to do a phone interview about ONE? There's no way to make it look not suspiscious. That was, at least, until you remembered that it turns 30 next year, and you could be doing a piece about its history and future growth. That would require you learn the entire history of ONE, a lot of which isn't easily accessible. You could play dumb, assuming you know more than you do, fishing for sound bites to pad out the interview, and... You're putting this off long enough. You dial the number, put it on speaker, and set the phone onto the table, sighing. "Hello? How did you get this number?" A man with a decently thick Japanese accent calls from the other end. Time to put your lies to the test. "Hi, I'm Sam Horowitz, I'm from the Medical News Line, we're doing a piece on ONE and you were one of the contacts we were told to call." "Impossible," the doctor replied matter-of-factly. "Pardon?" You ask. "Never heard of the Medical News Line, though Medical Wire and Newsline, I have heard of; a pair of tabloids that I do not respect. Nobody would have told you to contact my home phone about my work, you would have gotten the number to Corporation ONE or my office. Any new information not disclosed by Corporation ONE is under a non-disclosure agreement and press embargo until the start of next year unless it is to be broadcast next week in their upcoming press event." "Apologies, Dr. Kutsuki," you lie, dropping his name to make it clear you're more than just a phishing attempt, "I'm also an NDA so I can't drop the name of the journal I'm with. Medical News Line is just an alibi, I hope you'll understand. We're including a complete history of ONE as a featured article in our next issue, and it was a coworker of yours that suggested specifically you, citing your years of experience in the field and with the project. I didn't know this was a personal number." "Probably Abernathy," he mumbled, before clearing his throat, "if you wish to interview me, I'll be at the Corporation ONE offices Thursday morning and am free until noon. I am at home with my daughters at the moment, they have been waiting on me to play my cards for the past three minutes." Distantly, you hear Takashi speak to his children. "Rosanzerusu kara nyūyōku made, 21 pointo," he says, and you hear a child pout. "Thursday at 10:00 AM, would that work for you?" "Yes, it would," you say. "Have a good evening," he replies, [[before hanging up. -> Corporation ONE]]

COSnoop: 0 AR: 0 MK: 0 RD: 0 ARC: 0 -- It felt wrong to step foot into Corporation ONE. Their office was just downtown, and you had prepared for the occasion by looking the part of a reporter. You had packed a cheap audio recorder you picked up at the store for fifteen dollars, you brought a tablet and stylus to take notes, and you even went through the trouble to prepare a lanyard with your photograph in it. The building was sterile and white, with very minimal traces of color. A brown bench, a red desk, a green insignia on the wall. A woman, also clad in white, complete with a hat to hide most of her blonde hair, stood at the desk, with a thin silver computer at her side. "Hello, do you have an appointment?" She said. "I do, with Dr. Kutsuki," you replied. "He didn't fill out any appointment paperwork. Let me call him!" She pushes at a metal plate flush with the desk, revealing the plate to be a phone. "Hello, Takashi? I have someone here to meet with you... oh! Certainly, I will send them up right away." She returns the phone to the indentation in the desk, and it slides away seamlessly. "Dr. Kutsuki is on the 9th floor, he'll be ready in ten minutes." Ten minutes sounded like you had some time to do some [[investigative research -> Snooping as Usual, I See]], if desired. You could just as easily head to [[Kutsuki's office -> Down to Business]], just to ensure you're not late.

Emma was able to secure the two of you a spot in a "Secrets and Surprises" tour the company was holding in a bit under two weeks' time. While you had nothing new to report at your next NAG meeting (which had to be held at Miriam's house given a prominent tasting party being held across the street from the derelict building you have been using), by the following week you're sure to have something. You meet her outside the building at 11:30 AM, just before the tour is set to begin. One man and three other women, with one of them being rather young and the others about your parents' age, are already waiting for the tour to begin. "You're coming with us on the secrets tour, too?" the man asks, balding and with thin-rimmed square glasses, "you have a favorite flavor?" The man perturbs you. He seems like the kind of guy who'd be a little unhealthily into trains or something, like an obsessive fan of something who tried and failed to never grow up or mature. But it'd be rude not to answer your question. "Strawberry," Emma lies. "Cookie dough," you reply, your fib tumbling over Emma's at the same time. "That's great. I've been trying to get ahold of the kewpie mayonnaise flavor since I last had it seventeen years ago, I have a saved eAuction search and it's set to go through if a box goes for under two thousand dollars." You wince at the idea of a mayonnaise-flavored pill, but the tour begins regardless. It's relatively blasé, with a walk past some kind of room where a robot forms small batches of pills at a time, a brief walk past a few of the marking division rooms, where people wave at you all as you pass, and ending in a behind-the-scenes area where you get to watch old commercials and trailers, including an infamous one depicting Null bodies as whiny and childish for not being able to enjoy something everyone else can. "So, does anyone have any questions?" the guide asks. "Um, yes," the man replies, "I was wondering if you bring back older collectable flavors, I have a favorite one I've been trying to get ahold of." "We aren't taking questions on that right now," the guide says flatly. The man turns to you, "I asked that last month!" he whispers, chuckling. You worry for the man. "Thank you for joining the tour! Now, we have a special surprise for you all. This product comes out in a week, but for being such good fans, we think you deserve to try ONE Hydro. This is our cucumber lime flavor, be sure to try the other two when they come out!" You're handed a clear bottle with a white label. It's some kind of liquid ONE. Neither of you drink the bottle there, instead telling the guide you're "saving" it. It's saved until a couple days later, where you get to show it off at NAG. "New ONE, it's a water," you say, taking the bottle out of your bag. "Comes out in a week," Emma replies, showing off hers. The rest of the group stare at the bottles with some amount of worry, especially Miriam. "Okay, so now even if you keep an eye on your drink and watch it get made, there's... there's just no way to avoid getting spiked, huh? Goddamn it," she says, "we're going to really need help with this one, and I worried about this happening, I had read about a product matching this description coming to market soon." She hands everyone a single needle of Saviodrone and a small bottle of activated charcoal. "If *anything* happens, don't hesitate to use these. I'd rather you get outed than die. We will fight this." You arrive home and worry about what this means for the future. *** A couple months pass, and your worries about going to public venues increase. You don't get anything to drink when you are out, and are very careful to bring both of your safety nets with you wherever, even if you are running out of pocket space. You're worried that you'll slip, drink something you're not supposed to, and then you'll die. Eventually, you're resigned to drinking filtered tap water after learning that ONE Hydro is being sold under different names and that the ability to "enhance" (poison) water is being sold to other companies. You bring a canteen with you places just to be extra safe, even. Perhaps it is overkill, your NAG group doesn't do anything like that, but it's better than the alternative, you argue. It isn't until the end of this month that [[you slip up -> Overblown?]]

ARC: 0 AR: 0 -- Getting to the Corporation ONE offices wasn't the hard part. Standing outside of the twenty-story building felt like storming the castle, the Goliath to your proverbial David. You enter the building... and are immediately greeted by a front desk clerk. "Do you have an appointment?" She asks. "Just asking about public records," you respond, and she hands you a print-out, three pages thick. Flipping through it, it only contians information about ONE flavors, doseages, and durations. "Does Corporation ONE make any other products?" You ask the clerk. "These are the only public records." "See, this is interesting, because I know for a fact Corporation ONE puts their name on a number of more generic products. Surely those should be public, too?" "If you wish to know more about that information, you can set up an appointment with an archivist," she says. "Can't they do walk-ins?" You reply. Your joke doesn't go over well, and you return the paperwork. The first floor of the building is done up as a sort of indoor plaza celebrating ONE, with benches and seating facing outside done up in a multi-color confetti of pill etchings, a tasting bar, and even a small fountain. You sit at a bench and sigh. Some time passes, maybe just a few minutes, and the front desk clerk is now helping an older man in glasses, or maybe just talking to him. You're not sure, but at least they're distracted. You find an elevator and get in, hitting the eigth floor button, labeled "Archives". You step out, greeted by a pair of double doors. Nobody is standing at the doors, so you assume you're clear to walk in. The archives were dense, full of cabinets and booklets. You could [[rifle through them -> Just a Peek!]], if you think you have time, otherwise it might just be best to [[look for product information -> What's On The Menu?]]

Having given it a second of thought, why wouldn't you take this opportunity to get as much dirt on Corporation ONE as possible? This was a perfect opportunity to learn about their secrets and leak new products to your support group, who could use that information to their advantage. You find the stairwell, and begin to ascend. You pass the third floor, [[labeled "Marketing" -> Marketing]], and then the fifth floor, [["Research and Development" -> R&D]], and then the eighth floor is labeled [["Archives" -> History Lesson]]. You ultimately make it to the ninth floor, [["Offices" -> Down to Business]]. It all comes down to which one you think you have time to raid, or if you just don't bother with your plans.

You enter Dr. Kutsuki's office on the ninth floor. An older Japanese man with short hair and thick-rimmed glasses in a white shirt sits at a desk, typing on a laptop. "Hi, Dr. Kutsuki. I'm here for the interview!" [if COSnoop === 0] "Very well," he says, closing his computer. [else] You see Dr. Kutsuki check the time. "Two minutes late, but very well," he concludes. You worry if he might find out about your investigative research. [continue] "So, do you mind starting with the history of Corporation ONE a little?" You ask. He nods. "Corporation ONE was founded thirty-five years ago. We had mixed success in other aspects of pharmeceutical research and development, but ONE was the product that secured our future." [if AR === 2] Wasn't it nearly a hundred years ago, as the Horizon Medical Group?" You ask. Takashi lowers his glasses at you. Where did you hear that?" he asks. "I've, uh... really done my homework," you reply. He opens his laptop again, typing a couple quick notes. "That is correct, but we consider the two different companies in many ways. We moved into a new office, we had branches worldwide now, we changed names... they are night and day, and now so much of our success relies on ONE's continued cultural relevance." [else] "Interesting," you reply. "Indeed," he continues, "so much of our future depends on the continued success of ONE." [continue] "What is your response to people who are null?" You ask. "Pardon?" he replied, tipping his head slightly. "People who cannot take ONE due to serious medical issues it causes in them." "Ah, yes. We've taken to calling them 'aversions' internally. We do have plans for them, yes." [if AR === 3] Belittling them and ruining their lives like Mrs. Ableton?" You ask. Takashi glares at you. "Those rumors have been greatly exaggerated, you do not understand." "I think I do," you reply, showing him the document you photographed. "This was leaked online seven years ago. After exhaustive research, I found this and it includes follow-up documents from how PR mangled her story." He opens his laptop and takes several notes. "We will have to do something about this," he replies. "Like actually atone for any similar past incidents?" You ask. Dr. Kutsuki brushes you off as he continues writing. You hear him punctuate his frantic typing with a smack of the Enter key. He glares at you. [[You have a lot of explaining to do, it seems -> ONE down, one to go]] [else] "What do you mean?" You ask. [if COSnoop === 0] Kutsuki lowers his glasses. [["Can I trust you?" he asks. -> ONE BLU Over the Cuckoo's Nest]] [else] "You don't need to know," he replies sharply. "Can we change the subject?" You ask, "There are some concerns about high-power doseages, some of the effects they might cause if people take too much." "Nonsense," the doctor replies matter-of-factly. "Excuse me?" you ask. "Human beings can only metabolize 100 micrograms per hour, any more will be flushed out harmlessly. More premium variations appear to buck these trends, but it's to provide a more premium experience. We know that amount won't work, but the average consumer does not, and we have seen that a pill that claims to provide 120 micrograms per hour satisfies the customer greater than 100 per hour, even if the two products contain the same ingredients." "But what about people becoming irritable after getting hooked on ONE?" "No chemical dependency, and that is just a statement on the individual's character. We did our research, both in-house and independently. Every test confirms ONE is entirely safe in non-averse populations. Here, a report on their tests." You feel defeated, pocketing the reports. "Any other statements on ONE you'd like to add?" You ask. "I am tired of averse populations calling our product a danger to society." "Very well," you say, as [[you leave. -> Nothing Big]]

MK: random.d4 COSnoop: 1 -- [if MK === 1] The marketing floor seems like a great place to get some dirt on future materials, though you do need to be careful. A "reporter" on a floor riddled with non-disclosure agreements is bound to end in disaster. As you pass by offices, you see a few people standing in front of a board full of flavors. Two of them you see circled include Macaroni and Cheese (which would surely *just* be a cheese flavor, right?), and Gingerbread. You also catch "One Year" circled on the board. You worry about what that could even mean, honestly. [if MK === 2] The marketing floor seems like a great place to get some dirt on future materials, though you do need to be careful. A "reporter" on a floor riddled with non-disclosure agreements is bound to end in disaster. You pass by an office to see a promotional poster of a number of ONE Wintermint pills scattered about. The one you can most easily read is 320 micrograms, which is at the moment a doseage they do not make. You worry about what that could mean. [if MK === 3] The marketing floor seems like a great place to get some dirt on future materials, though you do need to be careful. A "reporter" on a floor riddled with non-disclosure agreements is bound to end in disaster. You catch a glimpse of two people arguing at each other, right in each other's face. The taller of the two men, a younger guy likely in his 30s or early 40s, was pointing at a poster of a golden-brown pill, likely some kind of alcohol flavor. The second, shorter man, older and with thinning brownish-gray hair, is shaking his head and running his hand across his throat in a cutting motion. The only words you can make out are "Think of the children!" [if MK === 4] The marketing floor seems like a great place to get some dirt on future materials, though you do need to be careful. A "reporter" on a floor riddled with non-disclosure agreements is bound to end in disaster. You catch a glimpse in an editing bay where someone is preparing the presentation set to go out this coming Tuesday. They're working on a list of flavors that'll scroll up the screen. Given the contents (Tequila, salsa verde, and horchata), you can only assume next year's seasonal flavors are all mexican-themed. [continue] While you're aware you should get back to the interview, this could be a great opportunity to slip into one of the empty offices and take some pictures. [[Do you risk it, -> Take the Plunge]], or should you just get [[back to it? -> Down to Business]]

RD: random.d4 COSnoop: 1 -- While the Research and Development floor is no doubt highly guarded, this would be a fantastic place to start digging up dirt on Corporation ONE and their titular product. You had to be really careful though, as no doubt these labs would be heavilly occupied, and there's a very possible risk of being caught, kicked out, or worse up here. [if RD === 1] You glimpse into a lab. Three people are working at computers, likely aggregating data from some kind of poll. A chart projected onto the back wall lists the ten flavors people want most: `Strawberry Lemonade` `Peach Iced Tea` `Fruit Punch` `Blackberry` `Korean-style Barbecue` `Green Apple` `Gazpacho` `Cookie Dough` `Eggnog` `Mint Chocolate Chip` The list doesn't surprise you, aside from the fact that there's an anchovy flavor, but not green apple or fruit punch. Seems it should be the other way around... [if RD === 2] You pass by a window into a flavor lab. A number of colorless chemicals are sitting in trays, some of them mixed into solutions and the crucibles labeled. "TEST A: Pepper + wood??" and "TEST D: honey-lemon" are the two visible. You also catch a glimpse of a black and gold-decorated box, about the size of a pocketbook, with "ONE CENTURION" legible. [if RD === 3] You walk by an open door to an empty kitchen of sorts. On the table lay many kinds of pills, [[and apparently some kind of photography set. -> Wintermint 320]] One thing sticks out most of the bunch. An oblong pill, about the shape of a rugby ball, a light blue, almost glowing, and filled with a gel. [if RD === 4] You pass by a lab in which six or seven people are working together. They seem to be passing documents between each other, fetching supplies from a cabinet, and adding them to a beaker on a hot plate. If it weren't for the bottles laying around, this would look like stock footage from a science fiction film. You do worry about being caught here, and feel it might be best to [[make a break for it. -> Stealth was an option]] [after 15 seconds] [continue] It doesn't seem like much, but it'll have to do, you have [an interview to get to! -> Down to Business]]

AR: random.d4 COSnoop: 1 -- The archives would be a fantastic place to dig up dirt on Corporation ONE. A lot of their actions are surrounded in secrecy and very few attempts to leak information from them have succeeded, even via legal discovery in some of their most high-profile lawsuits. You enter the archives and begin to rifle through the paperwork and shelves. [if AR === 1] You find a folder labeled "Trademarks". You flip through it and find a number of names you recognize, and more you do not. On top of ONE and some lesser-known stuff, seems they also have the rights to Saviodrone, which is a name you swear you've heard kicked around before. You spot a few ONE-centric names, registed within the month. ONE Hydro, a trademark for some kind of "enhanced beverage" catches you off-guard; seems they're going to start putting ONE in all sorts of places. Another, for a ONE mist going under the code name of APHORDITE (seemingly not final) is hard to pin down as anything but an attempted genocide on anyone who is Null. ONE BLU is also listed as an "alternate formulation", whatever that means. It's sickening. You pocket this information and continue [[to the interview. -> Down to Business]] [if AR === 2] A plaque on the wall catches your attention. Forty years ago, the Horizon Medical Group had been awarded "best new product of the year" for some kind of cool mist albuterol solution. Rifling through a nearby book with an older gentleman on it confirms your new discovery. Horizon Medical Group had been around for almost a century working on various new products, but ONE had become their runaway success and they renamed shortly thereafter. It's not much you can use, but it's something. [[Time to interview Dr. Kutsuki. -> Down to Business]] [if AR === 3] A lawsuit from nine years ago catches your attention. Mrs. Ableton, a suburban mother who lived on the other side of the country, had sued Corporation ONE as her son, Edgar, had died consuming ONE. He had to have been null, a shame. Their product does not warn that some people suffer from an adverse reaction to the product, and she wanted the corporation to pay to cover the cost of his life. Unfortunately, Corporation ONE's lawyers decimated her in court, countersuing for defamation *and winning*. The mother continues to owe the corporation 60% of her paychecks for a duration of twenty years as a result, and her story was twisted by the corporation's PR team. Their story was that she was mad that, thanks to ONE, her son left her home and she wanted her boy back, as if the corporation was responsible. In a twisted sense, they were. The story carefully and gleefully omits the most important part of the story, that he died. Indeed, a cursory web search confirms that you cannot find any information about Edgar Ableton online, and her mother's name brings up posts about entitled parents who feel their life has been a waste compared to the excitement their children can experience. It sickens you. You photograph the documents and [[proceed to the interview, -> Down to Business]] [if AR === 4] Tests from preliminary experiments with ONE catch your eye. One subject was asked to consume as many pills as he could, and another only took the recommended doseage, and would wait for it to expire before having more. Both subjects showed normal vitals, if maybe higher heart rate and increased reaction times, but neither was an outlier to the other. Another test had someone take ONE for two months and then perform a follow-up examination, and any of the changes in their ability to perform math problems, answer questions, or participate in physical activity were minimal. There had to be some kind of cover up. You photograph the documents and [[proceed to the interview, -> Down to Business]]

Escape: random.d6 -- You peek into the window to an office to ensure its empty before proceeding. You find a computer rendering a minute-long highlight reel of their upcoming presentation. You begin to take photographs of the screen. Six new flavors, a longer duration, and a higher doseage pill were all coming before the end of the year, and some of this would be available this coming Tuesday. As you work, you hear footsteps coming your way. [if Escape > 4] You quickly pack up and exit the office through a back door. A small closet connects that room to another, not unlike the supply rooms your school's science labs had. You open the adjacent door to another empty room, and walk out that way. That had no reason to go as well as it did. [[Time to make it to your interview! -> Down to Business] [else] You start wrapping it up, and push the door open, almost hitting an employee in the face. "Oh, I am so sorry!" you exclaim. "Who are you?" they ask. "Just lost, I have an interview with someone in a couple minutes, on the ninth floor. Sorry." They look you over, and then reach for their phone. "Yeah, I think we have a tresspasser. Could you--" You run. That was probably a mistake, they could have called the front desk, but it's too late now. You step into a stairwell and begin sprinting for the ninth level, only to stop and turn around when you spot a cop walking through the door on the fourth floor. As you escape for ground level, you spot another cop entering the stairwell on the second floor. Completely sandwiched between security, you don't really have anywhere else you can go. {restart link, label: 'That could have gone much better.'}

4thWallBreak: 1 -- You step into the room and approach the set. It's a steel table, with a white cloth behind it, the whole ordeal surrounded by lamps. A bottle sits overturned, with many pills spilling out of it. One at the front, a 320 microgram wintermint. The whole sight feels a bit familiar, though you can't place your finger on why. At the very least, it confirms that Corporation ONE will be showing off higher doseage pills in the near future. You spot "Ask corporate if we can get a proper photo studio so Marketing doesn't borrow our labs" written on a whiteboard [[as you leave. -> Down to Business]]

BLF: random.d5 -- There's no way around it, you've dug too deep and should get out of here ASAP. You break into a sprint back for the stairs, but then hear someone yell. "Why the hell are you running out there?!" someone shouts. In your adrenaline-fuelled haste, you actually don't remember which way you came from. You bolt around a corner and into a washroom, hoping you made enough distance between you and the scientists you startled. You decide to take a breather in a stall, hoping to catch your breath, only to hear a flush. A researcher steps out and towards the sinks, only catching you out of the corner of their eye before stopping and staring. "Who the hell are you?" they ask. Before you can answer them, the person from earlier throws open the door, staring you over. "You some kind of intern? Are you lost?" [if BLF > 3] "Yeah, I'm looking for the offices. I definitely miscounted the floors. 10th level, right?" "Yeah. Who are you interning for?" the scientist washing their hands asks. "Dr. Takashi Kutsuki," you reply. "Didn't know he was getting an intern," the other researcher says. "Well, you better head up there! Don't want to be late!" the other replies, now drying his hands with a paper towel. You exit the washroom and find the stairs. [[That had *no* reason to work as well as it did! -> Down to Business]] [else] "I'm just trying to get out of here!" you reply, pushing past the researchers. You run out of there, only to hear some chatter over the commotion. A security guard steps out of a door, locks eyes with you, and yells. "Stop!" Before you know what's happening, you're on the ground and in pain. The officer and one of the researchers stands over you. "Who are you? Who sent you?!" the cop yells. You try and fail to explain yourself. Words spill out of your mouth gracelessly. "Maybe this will ease your nerves," the researcher says, forcing a ONE pill down your mouth. As your vision darkens and you begin to choke on your own tongue, you can't help but feel {restart link, label: 'All of this may have been a mistake.'} At the very least, maybe people will think twice before using ONE as a makeshift anxiety medication, if that's a thing people do.

[if AR === 3] ..."These documents have been scrubbed from the Internet for the better part of a decade," he says, "there is no way you could have accessed these without inside help." "People don't forget, Takashi," you reply, "and if you don't want this story leaking back out to the public and damaging, say, your precious stock price, then actually atone for your actions as a corporation." "We already are," he said, and you give him a look. "We are working on a non-averse formulation of ONE. Anyone will be able to take it. We've already settled out of court, and there is nothing more you can do about this other than tell me where you got this information." "Does it matter? It was public record at *one* point, if even just briefly." You feel a large, gloved hand touch your shoulder. It's a security guard. You are escorted out of the building, feeling like you really didn't accomplish much. Nonetheless, you return to NAG the next week with your documentation in tow. "Anyone got anything?" Miriam asks. [if ARC === 4] You return to NAG the next week with your documentation in tow. "Anyone got anything?" Miriam asks. [continue] You present your findings by dropping them into a group text. Miriam reads the papers, before interjecting with a "Whoa... wh--holy shit?!" By the end of the day, Miriam has posted these documents to social media, attracting a large amount of attention, more than even she's used to. You see it scrolling by with nearly 30,000 comments, more than you've ever seen on any one of her more inflammatory posts before. You know you shouldn't read the comments, but you can't help yourself. The top comment, from a young girl whose profile picture is of the recently-announced ONE CENTURION, responds with "This is really messed up of them... I can't believe they sued HER, not the other way around..." A number of other comments read the same way. Majority of the messages are still the typical hate found on the posts of those who are Null, but there seems to be a lot of pushback. A couple weeks pass. Miriam starts off NAG by presenting a video interview she had done with a foreign country's national news. "This is really biting investigative work, Ms. Miriam," the anchor says, "and it really does give us a glimpse into one of the most powerful corporations on Earth." "Couldn't have done it without my friends in our local support network," the Miriam in the video says, as the actual one turns towards you and flashes a smile. *** The original post now has over 400,000 comments, the story has been covered in a number of places, and recently a disgraced employee from Corporation ONE has gone public on a business newspaper's opinion section, with a several-page long breakdown of the corruption in Corporation ONE. Their stock has fallen about 10% since the documents first leaked, and while you understand they will likely come back from this, you've made your mark on the company. *A poll in a year's time asks the public if they still use ONE versus before the story going live. Twelve percent of those polled have stopped, with thirty percent more having reduced how much they purchase from the company in response. This is nowhere near the majority, and there is still the potential for polling errors in the data or bias, but it's comforting to know that what you had accomplished had some kind of results. NAG has grown to nearly twenty people, some of which are people quitting ONE cold-turkey and others just feel safer coming out now that pubic opinion has taken a hit. Miriam gets targeted briefly, an unknown and unmarked package arrived at her door but was disposed of safely, and someone broke the windows to her car overnight, but everyone is safe. Property can be replaced, but knowing that more people will decide against ONE has you feeling a bit better about the world. {restart link, label: '...But surely there's more to this story?'}

"You can," you reply. "We have spent five years working on a new formulation. This should reduce the effects ONE has on averse populations to zero, according to preliminary tests. We're officially going public with the product on Tuesday. ONE BLU, it is called. Blue packaging, limited flavor variety at the moment, and higher doses are being sorted out in due time. This will give averse populations the ability to enjoy ONE, alongside being entirely safe for those with other food allergies." He hands you an empty blue box, on it is a photograph of a pill. [align center] `ONE BLU` `milk chocolate` `50 mcg` `one hour` [cont] "This is all you need to know about the product until Tuesday." "...Thank you for your time," you say. *** Your Null support group learns about the product at their next meeting, which had been moved to Miriam's house out of fears of a nearby tasting party intruding. "So what now?" Mick asks. "I don't know," Miriam replies. Eventually, the group shrinks as there's little need for a support group with a safer version of ONE out. Eventually, it's just you, Miriam, and Emma, who brings a package of ONE BLU to the meeting alongside some activated charcoal and a syringe of Saviodrone. "So... do we try it?" she asks. Miriam swats the bottle away. "We don't need it!" she says. "We're still going to fight back against ONE! Who knows what dangers it poses for society! This just broadens their outreach, their crushing vice on the world. Keep fighting the good fight, do not give in!" *** [if EmmaBuddy = 1] You return to Emma's apartment after that ordeal. "I understand where she comes from," Emms says about Miriam, "but I feel she might be overreacting. They wouldn't put out a product if it was as dangerous as she says... would they?" "Only one way to find out," you reply, taking one of the newly formulated pills. A rather pleasant tingle runs down your spine, and you lean against Emma for support as it overtakes you. If this is how ONE was meant to feel, you completely understand its appeal. "I've been thinking," she says, "I've been coming up a little short on rent and everything every month; I can't really afford as many groceries as I'd like. Would... would you be so kind as to--" "--Move in?" You reply, as she smiles. *** *The worst of ONE is over, and you're happy with it no longer being an antagonizing, scary force in your life. Living with Emma has made things a bit easier on you both, and much less lonely. Maybe someday you'll get married. You'd like to think the two of you are perfect for each other, but it's a little hard to tell where your feelings for her begin and where ONE's grip on your emotions end. It is a happy ending, though it depends on your opinion of falling into a status quo.* {restart link, label: 'Maybe things could have been different.'} [else] You return home, staring at the small handful of ONE BLU pills Emma had given you. Worst-case scenario, you could just pawn off the pills if you don't like it, and if you *do* need medical attention, then at least you knew the front desk for your apartment building had a complete first aid kit. As you swallow the pill, your mind clears and a pleasant tingle runs down your spine. You get it, you totally do. *** *Things are rough. The world isn't necessarily a pleasant place. But at least the worst of ONE is over. It's no longer a villain. You don't need ONE, you intend to only buy a small supply of BLU every now and then, but nothing more. Your apartment feels less cold and dim. While one could argue you've become part of the problem, surely ONE isn't that harmful...* {restart link, label: '...Right?'}

GK: 0 -- Your Null support group met at Miriam's house due to some commotion outside your usual venue. "Well, we're here. We're *not* watching the ONE presentation," she says, "I don't want to give those pill pushers any attention. Does anyone have any stories for this week?" Mick talks about how one of his coworkers has been using ONE relatively heavily, and it seems that it's affecting him. He's working less, he's becoming irritable, and seems disinterested. "He says something's going on at home, but I can't help but feel that's a cover-up." "Classic ONE overdose symptoms," Miriam says, "been hearing more and more about this stuff. We *need* to get a doctor to interview, we need dirt on what ONE is doing to people. A part of you feels awful about your recent revelation. You clear your throat. "Actually, I did interview a doctor," you say. Miriam perks up. "Yeah? So, what's the damage?" She replies. You choke out a sigh. "Well, here's the thing. Based on independent studies third party companies have performed... there is no way to overdose on ONE, and it doesn't cause lasting damage." "...That's propaganda," Miriam says. "No, look." You hand Miriam the reports, and she looks through them. "Th... no. No, I don't believe this. This has got to be some kind of--of fabrication!" She cries, "Why else are people becoming irritable and miserable the more they use ONE?" "Maybe they're using it *because* of their problems at home?" You reply, gesturing towards Mick, "it doesn't solve the stresses or problems they're running into at home, but it makes them at least feel a little better. It gives them at least the energy to get through the day. And while we're discussing the effects of ONE, doseages exceeding 100 micrograms in an hour actually don't do anything, you can only metabolize so much, it's on page three of the report." Miriam flips through it more. "I just... there's no way in *hell* any of this is correct! We're just gonna..." She heads into another room, out of sight, and you hear the sound of a paper shredder eating through the report. She returns. "We're going to defeat ONE," she says, "and we don't need reports like this getting in the way or giving them ammo to take us down! We need manpower! We need to make them afraid of ONE!" A few people in the group agree with Miriam, but most of the small group stays silent. She goes on about potentially staging a protest or paying for a billboard about its dangers. You hear a lot of it, but are still lost in that moment in which Miriam destroyed what you brought to the group. While you and your peers here cannot use ONE, treating it as a universal evil to destroy when it's clear work has gone into making it safe just doesn't gel with you. [[You could stand up for yourself, -> You Just Don't Get It]] but maybe it's for the better to just let this moment pass on. At the end of the meeting, Miriam points at you. "If you *really* want to be a detective, find some evidence that ONE can be dangerous. There has to be something, unless Corporation ONE is covering all that up." "Like, distracted driving, or actual overdoses, or...?" You ask, trying to filter out bad data. "Anything," she replies, confirming your suspiscions. George suddenly stops the meeting when he gets a text. "ONE BLU is Null-friendly!" he exclaims, reading the attached link. "Like hell it is," Miriam replies, "ONE is and has been a eugenics plot against us!" This group seemingly turned sour fast. You leave not feeling supported. [[Something's gotta give. -> What's the Deal With Miriam?]]

You feel you've had enough of this. "Look, Miriam. I'm sorry that you feel what I brought today is wrong, but these are independent studies. Corporation ONE had nothing to do with them. This is that data you were looking for, and it's proven that ONE is safe for non-null populations. I don't know what else you need. Maybe we can still crusade to be seen and heard, but trying to spin ONE as dangerous just isn't it." Miriam scoffs. "You think you know more about ONE than I do? I've been a Null advocate since *sixteen*! Our High School graduation speech was about the dangers of ONE, and I wrote it! I've run a blog with twenty-seven thousand followers about the topic! I've given radio and podcast interviews about Null advocacy! This has been my life for nearly a decade!" "And I nearly died of ONE exposure at the age of fourteen," you simply reply. "Sure, I'm not going out and doing interviews and speeches, but it's been just as big a problem in my life as it has been yours. And I did my homework on the stuff, and showed you what I found. My experience with ONE isn't invalid just because you have a larger following, and what I've learned to help the group isn't invalid just because I'm not its leader." "Well if you think you know more about ONE than I do--" she begins. "I never said that," you reply, "but I did research the dangers of long-term usage of ONE as well as higher doseages, and both problems were solved with how ONE is formulated. That's what I'm trying to say." Miriam wordlessly seethes at you, and Stacy stands up. "I think it might be worthwhile, Miriam, if you can find research supporting your argument, and then next time we can look at them together and compare and contrast." "This is over, see you next week," Miriam says, as everyone starts to leave. George expresses surprise at a text as you get into your car. You never found out for what. [[You worry about next week. -> Miriam is Missing]]

Driving home, Miriam is on your mind the entire time. What is her deal? By the time you make it home, you quickly get online and find her online profiles. Posts from as far back as eight years ago calling for ONE to be banned, placed under extra control, even one comment suggesting that ONE users be placed on a watchlist and denied jobs. "It alters your brain chemistry!" one post argues, "so it's a drug. It's no better for you than cocaine or meth!" This one is dated five years ago. Another from around the same time is of a death from someone you both knew in high school. "ANOTHER senseless death all thanks to ONE! Still want to take a murder pill?" Thinking back to the hate comments you saw on her profile before you joined NAG, you unfortunately understand where they all came from now. Personal attacks on staff members for Corporation ONE and the pill's users line her comments history, and in one particular post, you see pictures of homes splattered with red paint. "This is the BLOOD on your hands for supporting such an uncontrolled substance!" The posts do mellow out as you approach the last few years, but they still call for further investigation to be done on ONE. Knowing what you know now, that they did the investigation and found nothing of concern, really hurts you. She was an activist, an outspoken critic, but of something that's ultimately meant nothing. You have two real choices going forward. You could [[forgive Miriam -> Miriam is Missing]], or just [[move on with your life. -> Alone Once More]]

You learned that night that a new Null-friendly version of ONE was announced at the presentation: ONE BLU. Fewer flavors and weaker doseages, but it'll soon appear in as many forms as the original, on the same shelves worldwide. Between this and Dr. Kutsuki's documents, this week has given Miriam a lot to chew on. Something about her crusade just doesn't seem to make sense anymore. You worry that something is going wrong in her home life or that eight years of being a very loud opponent of ONE is starting to wear on her. Next Tuesday comes. "no meeting 2day" a text in the group chat reads. It's from Miriam's number, but looks nothing like her usual text etiquette. You worry about her. Luckily, you now know where she lives. You head over to her place as soon as you can. As you knock on the door, you hear some groaning from the other side. This doesn't seem right. The door creaks open slowly as Miriam stands feebly, staring straight at you. Her eyes are very dialated, and a weak smile spreads across her face. "Yeah?" she asks dreamily. "I, uh... just came to check on you. Was worried about there not being a NAG meeting tod--" You're cut off as she pulls you into her living room by the collar of your shirt. An empty bottle of ONE BLU, in raspberry flavor, sits crushed on the carpet, and a half-empty bottle of tequila and many plastic cups line her table. Before you can comment on the mess, Miriam is making out with you. You push her back. "Miriam, what's going on?" You ask. "If it's... if it's so safe," she mutters, giggling, "then there'd be no problem if I had the *whoooole* bottle, right? You think you know all ther--everything there is to know with about the ONE, right?" "Again, Miriam, any more than 100 micrograms per hour just doesn't get used," you say, on the floor, with her pinning you down. "Look, get it together. Do you want a glass of water?" You ask. You finally get her to sit on the couch and hand her water (also crackers, she wanted crackers) and sit in an armchair on the other side of the room. "How are you doing?" Miriam stares out the window behind you (or perhaps, maybe just right at you), and sighs. "Let's go to the park," she says. [if GK === 0] "How is your ONE research going? Find any other documents about overuse?" You're careful to bring up the specific events from your previous meeting. She frowns slightly, her eyes slowly falling off of you and onto her glass of water. "It's not fair," she murmurs. You take a deep breath. "The research?" You ask. She begins to cry. "I didn't believe them," she chokes. "The documents?" Miriam sets her glass of water down and falls back onto the couch, sobbing. "The bottle! There's no reason for people not to take ONE anymore! I lost! And--and I was... I mean, there's no way they'd work for me... and..." You fear you understand what her intent was. You prop her back up into a seated position, hand her two more crackers, and sit down next to her. "Hey, I get it. Things are tense, we don't really know what the future's going to be like with this new version of ONE. But hey, people have questions about the stuff, and I had the research, the dirt *from* Corporation ONE that could answer people's questions. Maybe we can find a way to turn this into a more general support group, whether that's for people who are Null or just have questions about ONE." Miriam turns away from you, but leans back slightly. You shift into a hug. "We'll figure this out, all of us. How about we see who from NAG can stop by and help us figure this out? Do you want to do that?" [[She squeezes your hand in response. -> NAGged to Death]]

Your group had ultimately decided that becoming a support group for those questioning ONE or who had issues with it was going to be the best decision moving forward. Miriam stepped down from her role leading the discussion and it became a much more collaborative, collective space. Your first open letter to the ONE community at large to invite people in led to six more people showing up to NAG the next week. "Welcome! Mind introducing yourself?" You ask as the new arrival make their way in. "I'm Lisa. Hey, what's your favorite flavor of ONE?" "Jamie. Have you tried CENTURION yet?" Part of you worries about what this could mean, but you press forward. Four of the people left nearly immediately once you mention the 100 microgram limit, three of them not believing you and one of them just here to hear it confirmed. One of the remaining two is Null, a young, stocky woman by the name of Heather, but she had recently starting taking ONE BLU. The last one said nothing the entire time, staring off at the opposite wall. You continue to press on. A few more people would arrive the following week, though for all of a couple minutes, just to leave once it was clear this wasn't a tasting party. *** It was now the end of the month, and a few of the people from NAG were getting worried. "Look, you guys are great," Georege says, "but this is just us answering the same two questions over and over and having to clean up spilled pills. You've got my number, keep in touch." Another month passes, and the number of active ONE users steadily climbs, and they begin sharing pills with one another. You, Stacey, Mick, Emma, and Miriam are all that's left of the original group, and are quickly becoming ostracized in your own support group. Things have clearly spun out of control. You all decide to regroup elsewhere to discuss the issue. "Well that sucked," Miriam sighs as you all head back to her place, "we shouldn't have done that." "We're kind of at a weird impasse, don't you think?" Mick replies. "I don't want to say it's time to retire NAG, but this isn't really working anymore," Stacy says. "Still," Miriam replies, "it was nice meeting you all. Maybe we can hang out some other time?" "Next Tuesday, they're doing half-price lanes at the bowling alley," Emma suggests, "we could meet there." *** *NAG is no more. It's a shame, but in a post-Null society, that is to be expected. You are no more a support group than simply friends, and Tuesday has become your night to hang out together. You were bonded by a common ailment and have found common interests together as a result. In a way, maybe this group is still here for support, though not as you expected months ago. It's bittersweet, but each week gathering around a board game or miniature golf course, swapping the week's anecdotes and pooling funds to help one another gets you through a rough Winter. Come Spring, ONE BLU is the only formulation left, and you're all still as tight as ever, and even go to public clubs and restaurants together, free from the worries of ONE exposure. * You feel glad things {restart link, label: 'worked out the way they did.'}

Next week rolls around. "no meeting 2day". You ignore the strange grammar and decide to move on with your life. Over the next few months, ONE BLU, a new formulation, would roll out but you continue to abstain from it. You still keep in touch with a couple people from the group, but they text you first. You continue to work and avoid ONE, avoid public spaces and drinks. This becomes your life. It's business as usual once more. As quickly as Miriam and NAG had entered your life, it slips away. *** *It's a lonely, kind of miserable existance, but it's a safe one. You're living within your means, navigating a drugged-up dystopia. You do continue to find work and manage to pay the bills, but your opportunities for social interaction begin to dry up. Soon, none of the other people from NAG are texting you. You've effectively disappeared once more.* {restart link, label: 'Perhaps if things went different, the story would be better, but what's wrong with staying safe?'}

ARC: random.d5 -- You figure you have time to scour the other information strewn about, so you get cracking. [if ARC === 1] As you search, you spot a plaque. Forty years ago, the Horizon Medical Group had been awarded "best new product of the year" for some kind of hybrid of an albuterol nebulizer and a humidifier. A book sitting on the shelf under this plaque, a biography from the founder of the Horizon Medical Group, mentions on its back that his leadership turned a fledgling medical company into a worldwide power thanks to their new product, ONE. Horizon has to be Corporation ONE, there's no way around that. You aren't sure what you'll do with that information, though. You eventually [[find what you're looking for -> What's On The Menu?]] [if ARC === 2] A piece of paper documenting early flavoring tests catches your eye. An early test of a fruit punch pill ended with testers calling the flavor "metallic" and "unappealing". An early white chocolate test was labeled "chalky" and one report mentioned that a tester felt "lightheaded and racked with muscle fatigue". One particularly interesting test of an early doseage of 120 micrograms caused its tester to become borderline unresponsive to verbal communication but *incredibly* perceptive to physical touch for several hours after the ONE should have worn off. You recall Miriam looking for information about the issues with taking ONE, so you pocket the document, and [[continue your search -> What's On The Menu?]] [if ARC === 3] You find a brand new document, for a product by the name of ONE CENTURION. The abstract mentions they've found a way to more or less simulate the effects of 100 micrograms of ONE in a person's system over an entire year by simply lowering their tolerance for their own oxytocin, dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins. Their results show that someone under the effects of CENTURION is happier, makes deep social connections much quicker, is less aggressive, and more responsive to physical touch and affirmation, with some new symptoms. An early test of CENTURION showed that a user faced more changes over time: their reaction time slowed slightly, their appetite increased, and their disposition shifted towards a polyanna-esque unflappable optimism. How many of these symptoms have manifested in newer versions of the pill, you have no idea. It sickens you quite significantly that any of this is deemed okay. You photograph the reports, and [[move on. -> What's On The Menu?]] [if ARC === 4] A folder of lawsuit documents catches your attention. A lawsuit from nine years ago filed by one Mrs. Ableton, a suburban mother who lived on the other side of the country, had sued Corporation ONE as her son, Edgar, had died consuming ONE. He had to have been null, you think. Their product didn't warn users about possible adverse reactions to the product at the time, and she wanted the corporation to pay to cover the cost of his life and to update their packaging. Corporation ONE's lawyers countersued for defamation, and through a disgusting twist of fate won. The mother continues to owe the corporation 60% of her paychecks for a duration of twenty years as a result, and her story is now remembered as that of an entitled parent who wants everything twisted to be convenient for her, her son dying from a reaction is an oft-buried footnote in that story. It shocks and sickens you, and you photograph the documents. You could [[simply leave now, actually, -> ONE down, one to go]] this is a story that really should be more public, or you can work your way [[through the rest of the documents -> What's On The Menu?]] [if ARC === 5] The original ONE packaging sits on a shelf. It was plain plastic bottle with a white label and gray "ONE" in bold, rounded letters. The current styling is thin and pitch black, with a bunch of information about the flavor, doseage, and duration, but the original only includes the flavor below the name. It's kind of interesting to see this bland, unassuming packaging, given just how prevalent those sans-serif condensed letters have been over the past ten or fifteen years. Next to it is also the packaging for the first limited release flavor, a red box with those same gray letters, though where simply "ONE" would be, "ONE CHERRY" is written. Given how there's now nearly 100 flavors, it's wild to consider that there was a point where cherry is a big deal. You continue looking to see if you can't find [[the documentation you're actually after -> What's On The Menu?]]

Product Information was stored in its own drawer in a tall file cabinet, and was labeled as such, thankfully. Dozens of one-page documents, describing the product itself and possible uses and form factors. Most of the documents are relatively benign: "albuterol sulfate HFA inhaler", for instance, describes a metal canister that delivers 90 micrograms of albuterol in 200 metered doses mounted into a plastic housing that releases the medication when the can is depressed, which is certainly an inhaler. "Medical Brace for stabilizing injury" is exactly what it sounds like. It isn't until you get to the page for ONE that things begin to get interesting. ONE is described as a 30 microgram tablet that "produces feelings of acceptance, happiness, and requitted love". The wording nearly makes you gag, given it's such a clinical way to describe such a worrying product. In fact, a number of ONE products have similar pages, but with the specified form factor replaced. "ONE Hydro"'s only change is that the form factor section of the document has been rewritten: "ONE Hydro is an enhanced beverage that includes the specified dose and flavor in an entirely liquid form". After digging through dozens of papers on ONE, you finally find what you're looking for, and it does indeed bother you. "Saviodrone". By name, in Corporation ONE's product information cache. "Saviodrone is a three-stage rescue medication for averse populations wrongfully or nonconsensually exposed to ONE." It describes a metal needle inside a plastic housing with a pair of spring-loaded buttons in the top and bottom of the syringe. The single image of the device is indeed a Saviodrone needle. You photograph the paper, stick everything back into the folder, place that back into the drawer, and walk out of the archives. *** On one hand, it makes sense. Corporation ONE is a company bigger than just their flagship pills, but at the same time, knowing that they have a hand in your ability to recover from a fatal exposure from their own product is sickening. You leave their office without any hassle, and take your findings to your next NAG meeting. Miriam opts to hold it at her place, as a large tasting party was happening in the area around your usual meeting place, and the worry about possibly dealing with rowdy pill-pushers was too great a risk. She stands in front of her TV. "So, anyone have anything for today?" You get up from her armchair, dropping your photograph into your group text. "Found out that Saviodrone is indeed a Corporation ONE product," you begin. Miriam pulls up the image. "Huh, wow. Where did you...?" she begins. "I did a little investigative journalism," you reply. "This is quite awful to learn, but important nonetheless. The packaging for Saviodrone is notoriously unbranded, but learning this company is responsible for a medication designed to counteract their drug just seems reckless on their part, like sticking a bandage to a bullet wound." The rest of the group shares their week's experiences, and then Miriam calls it a day. "Hey, before you go," she says as you get in your car, "if you've got the ability to source these kinds of restricted documents, would you be willing to help gather more information about Corporation ONE? Getting specifically investigative reports like these could help us go a long way into cracking the case on them and getting ONE regulated. There's gotta be more information, surely!" *** *Over the course of the next year, as the landscape for ONE and its users changes dramatically, you and Miriam begin to become leakers of a sort, sneaking through their offices and acquiring protected documents. You two successfully leak the newest seasonal flavors, uncover old lawsuits both towards and from Corporation ONE, and it isn't until nearly two years into the game that one of you gets banned from their offices, it takes them that long to suspect something is up and to look at the tapes. In that time, you two have become minor celebrities in investigative journalism circles, and the praise and success that follows suit allows the two of you to become journalists for a big-name news site. Maybe not the success you had expected from your time digging up dirt on ONE, but it's a happy one nonetheless, especially given over time the stigma surrounding null bodies diminishes as new, safer formulations and new form factors of ONE become available.* {restart link, label: 'Maybe things could have been different, but there's nothing wrong with where you've ended up.'}

The taste of strawberry hits you when you take a swig from the bottle, and you quickly read the label. "Enhanced with ONE BLU Hydro". Shit. You quickly drop the bottle, spilling its contents and reach for your Saviodrone, waiting for your vision to dim before jabbing yourself (doing so earlier could risk wasting it, and Saviodrone isn't cheap). You stand there breathing raggedly, waiting for any side effects, but they never come. You eventually pocket the syringe again and go about your business. *** *You aren't sure if you've cheated death or not. You didn't have a lot of the bottle, maybe enough to consume two micrograms' worth of ONE, and you're not sure how BLU factors into things (if it factors into things), but you didn't need any saving that day. Slowly, you begin to experiment with that same brand of water, having a sip from it, then moving onto drinking a quarter, then half, then a whole bottle. You worry you might have overblown the danger ONE Hydro poses on you, Emma, and the other people at NAG.* {restart link, label: 'But maybe ONE BLU has its own secrets to explore?'}

BAS: 1 -- [if HA !== 0] The votes come in, with your utility closet winning by one vote thanks to Emma and Grant. "So it's settled then," Miriam replies, "see you all Tuesday." [else] On Friday, you suggest your place, and it wins the vote. "So it's settled then," Miriam replies, "see you all Tuesday!" *** Fifteen minutes before NAG is supposed to begin, you head down into the empty room in the basement, and unfold and arrange the chairs. You take the padded office chair that had been sitting in the corner, and then return to the base of the stairwell. Miriam is the first to arrive, saying "show me what we're dealing with," as she walks in. You bring her to the empty room and gesture. "It's a lot like where I held my first meetings seven years ago," she says, "as musty as the first place, at least. I'll go back upstairs and lead people down here, and we'll work from there." Soon, the rest of the group arrives, with Miriam walking Stacey through the door. "Jeff never showed up, hmm," Miriam murmurs, "I reached out to him Saturday and then again Monday and never got a text both times, unfortunate. Well, welcome to your NAG away from NAG. Due to a tasting party being held across the street from our usual venue, we're holed up in here for the week." She gestures to you and says "thank you for providing the space." "Don't mention it," you reply. "So, I want to start this week off by asking if anyone has anything for us." [if GeorgeBuddy === 1] George stands up, "Do you have any advice about talking to an old friend in public about being Null? I fear people might be listening in." Miriam stands. "Honestly, a code phrase might help. Maybe you could describe yourself and other people who are Null as, I don't know, 'avoidant' or 'allergic'? We could try to come up with a code phrase over this coming week, if we really want one." [if GrantBuddy === 1] Grant stands. "Jesse Rousseau, one of my favorite directors, is doing a documentary on Null culture and people, I don't think it has a name yet, they just announced it a couple weeks ago. I went and saw their most recent film and it reminded me of that." "That's great to hear," Miriam says, "provided they do our history a service and tell it right. There have been a number of attempts to tell our tale on-screen but they just never have turned out right. I think the one most people unfortunately know of is *No ONE to Love Me*, which was made by ONE users, was an all ONE-user cast, and as such just relied on stereotypes to pad out its characters and runtime. People who take ONE hated its preachy characters, and Null Bodies hated the movie because it gave anyone who is Null a bad rap. It's just not good no matter who you are. There are a couple other documentary things, but they tend to treat us like freaks, not as humans, which is really unfortunate." [if EmmaBuddy === 1 && HA === 0] Emma stands. "I think I'm going to go sober from here on out," she says bluntly. Miriam stands for a second, silent, before stepping forward and putting an arm around Emma. "That's a really big move, and I'm proud of you." "Thanks," she says, fighting back tears, "had some help coming to that conclusion. If we're fighting for people addicted to ONE, I should also try to kick my own habits, too." Miriam hugs Emma, and Emma returns to her seat. [if HA === 0] There's a few small comments, but nothing big this week. Stacy mentions that she's giving a small Null awareness lecture at parent teacher conferences, to which Miriam replies, "That's really great, hope they take your message to heart." [continue] Miriam takes out a short document in a folder. "I compiled a timeline of ONE activism and lawsuits," she says. [if MiriamBuddy === 1] [append] "Even got some help assembling all this." [else] "It took pretty much all weekend, but it's done." She passes around the timeline, and you flip through it when it makes it to you. "I'm confident there are gaps, especially throughout the last ten years. The story of Accusatory Mrs. Ableton that I keep finding is likely to be one of those, though I don't exactly know how to confirm that. I'm going to be working over the next few months to add to this, but this is becoming a permanent fixture on my blog and I highly encourage you all to share it." George shakes his phone, interrupting Miriam. "Stupid phone! Trying to send a text back to my wife and I just can't get a signal down here. Ach, I'll deal with it later." "Alright, I had a video to show people, a Null Activist Group in the Netherlands actually sent me a video they recorded for me, but I'll send that in a text after we get out of here. I really recommend watching it, they even have a couple namedrops in there, it's really something. I'm going to try and get back in touch with Jeff and I'll assess the damage next Monday, see if we're back in our usual space or not." "If we are, maybe we could clean it up!" Emma suggested. "We *could*? I've kept it intact mostly because it makes people think nothing happens in there; if it was clean people would definitely find out we're in there as often as we are. Maybe we could disguise it with a petition to clean the building up, make it historical. The only real issue is that there's no water; it could simply just become a sort of little plaza for sitting in, and then we can keep the NAG room behind locked doors, which would give us some more room to breathe. I'll kick around the idea more over the next few weeks, for sure. Thank you all for coming over here, I know the change of venue was a bit of a shock, but it's better than the alternative, that's for sure. Stay safe, travel in pairs or groups, and let's meet back next week!" The rest of the group leaves, with Miriam sticking around the longest. "Thank you for hosting us," she says. As she leaves and you return to your apartment upstairs, cell signal returns. You could [[see what you missed. -> Feeling BLU]]

HA: 0 -- It wouldn't be until Friday that you could expect a text from Miriam as to where the next NAG meeting would be held. You had some free time that you could devote to some [[creative projects -> Down On Friday]], or could just spend out and about. You hit up your group text. "Anyone doing anything tonight?" "Might head to a movie," [[Grant says. -> Avant Garde]] "Have some shopping to do, if you want to join in," [[George replies. -> Pencil Pusher]] "Organizing a Null timeline," [[Miriam responds. -> Null Plus One (Plus ONE)]] "Want to hang out?" [[Emma replies. -> Some Thoughts on it All]]

config.style.googleFont: '<link href="https://fonts.googleapis.com/css2?family=Oswald:wght@300&display=swap" rel="stylesheet">' config.style.page.font: 'Oswald/Arial/sans-serif 18' config.style.page.style: "thick-line" config.style.page.borderColor: "#ffffff" config.style.page.color: "#FFFFFF" config.style.backdrop: "#000000" config.style.page.link.color: "#B9FFB9" config.style.page.link.active.color: "#008800" config.style.page.link.lineColor: "#008800" config.body.transition.name: "fadeInOut" config.body.transition.duration: '750ms' -- {embed image: 'key.png', alt: 'Key Art for ONE'} [align center] ONE By Jay Riddick {reveal link: 'View Credits', passage: 'Credits'} {reveal link: 'View Content Warnings', passage: 'Content Warnings'} [[Start with alternate font]] [[Start|Everywhere]]

**CONTENT WARNINGS** *** This game contains profane language, use of recreational (fictional) stimulants, implied alcohol usage, implied sexual activity, themes of addiction and extensive marketing manipulation, nonconsensual activity (spiking one's drink or forcing one's self onto someone else non-sexually), overdosing and death, an attempted suicide, and a cover-up operation for someone's death. It is recommended that you be at least seventeen before playing ONE. Jay Riddick does not condone the more scandalous activity provided within this work of fiction. Please stay safe and get help if you need it. Thank you for downloading or purchasing ONE.

**CREDITS** *** Written by and key art provided by Jay Riddick Written in Chapbook 1.2.1 via Twine 2.3.13, both by Chris Klimas Key art rendered in Blender 2.92 using the Cycles Renderer *** Special Thanks to Daniel Saix, Zeke Graves, Weaver, and Steve Potjeau Thank you to my Patron Saints bigz11, Dragostar, Garret Polk, and Sonicaddict Thank you to my Patrons count, JovianArchiver, and T-Oppenheimer This game was released as freeware, but if you'd like to financially support me, you have a few options! - Become a patron at https://www.Patreon.com/E3k - Donate directly any time via https://www.streamlabs.com/E3kHatena *** A thank you to Casiopea, T-Square, Jim Andron, and Windows 96 whose music kept me sane while I wrote this thing this quickly.

config.style.page.font: 'Arial/sans-serif 18' -- *ONE* by default uses the Oswald font family from Google. If you wish to continue *ONE* using a default sans-serif font, [[click here. ->Everywhere]] Otherwise, you can return to using Oswald by [[Clicking here. ->Title]]

[if HA: 0] You spend the rest of the evening working on a number of more personal projects. You feel they're coming along well, though not as quickly as you had hoped. Such is living with the creative process, you muse. [continue] At long last, Friday arrives. Miriam starts the conversation around 9:45 AM. "Alright, so I moved some furniture around. Basque and Elise are fine with letting me use the living room the whole day if needed." Mick replies, "and I've still got my garage open, our first booked appointment after our usual meeting time isn't for another two hours, so we have pretty ample time." You still are thinking about your empty utility room. It wouldn't hurt to suggest it, [[would it? -> This is the Place]] After a few minutes, a vote begins. It's eventually split between Miriam, Emma, and Grant wanting to meet at Miriam's place, and Mick, George, and Stacy wanting to meet at the garage. With you being the tie-breaking vote, you get to decide [[where you're -> Miriam's Place]] [[going Tuesday -> Parts and Service]]

GrantBuddy: 1 HA: 1 4thWallBreak: 1 -- You join Grant on his movie night. A local theater you've never heard of, with screens over a century old, is showing a local art film by the name of "Que se Passe-t-il Après", which you know nothing about. You've never been one for arthouse films, or film on the whole. You've seen some popular movies from the past and present, but nothing too out there or all that frequently. If someone had asked about filmmaking or directoral technique, you'd be lost. You meet up at the local theatre and enter. "Welcome!" the cashier says. "Two tickets for Passe," Grant replies, handing over twenty dollars. He, in turn, recieves two slips, one of which he hands you. "Any refreshments?" the cashier asks. Grant nods towards you. "Just a small popcorn and a bottled water," you reply. "Double that order," he responds, handing over another twenty bucks. "Any ONE?" the cashier replies. Grant takes out a box and gives it a shake. "No need," he says. You get your snacks and drinks, Grant gets some change and pockets the box, and you make it to your seats. It was definitely a very old-school theater. Not very large inside, the rows kind of loosely packed and the seats not very comfortable. Most theaters nowadays have a few aisles for people to get in and out, and pretty beefy cupholders to boot. You had heard from a high school friend that some newer theaters have full-on loungers with fold out tables and built-in devices to order full meals during the film and have them delivered. There was also a VR-only theater that opened recently, in which people were put into noise-isolating rooms, given a headset, and would watch the film in isolation, with like viewing times having their reactions broadcast to people watching the same film, some very complicated setup that you expect to not do well. The film had begun, and on-screen was some older woman navigating ruins. None of the dialogue made sense, even with subtitles; you assume the story is that these characters are trapped in a dystopian apocalypse film and wish to rewrite the script and overthrow the director to make that happen? That might not be correct, most of the dialogue is quite flowery and hard to follow. "How long have you carried that ONE?" you ask. "Two months, just to get people to shut up. Just a bottle with some jelly beans inside," he whispers. It's kind of a genius strategy, when you think about it. You might try that sometime. [if HasOneBox === 1] [append] In fact, the ONE you bought a while back could probably work quite well for such a scenario. [continue] After the film ends (about 70 minutes in), you and Grant leave. Another employee asks if either of you want a ONE flavor meant to correspond to the film (cotton candy, for reasons you don't think you quite get), and Grant once again uses his decoy package to get them to stand down. "That was quite a good film, Lucien was set up in *Vers Le Bas* as this imposing villain, this egotistical character who wants the story written his way, a common critique on American cinema as of late, but this film did a great job exploring him as someone who he feels was burned by Madame Mémoire in a past life, giving both characters depth and complexity. Which unreliable narrator do we trust? What were your thoughts?" "Oh, yeah, you took the words right out of my mouth," you lie quite boldly, "I think it was shot really well, and, um... the characters were good, too." Grant smirks. "I get that this stuff isn't your forté," he says, "I totally do. I'm just glad you came with. That's all that matters. Maybe I can show you the rest of the *Après* Saga, they're really interesting stories less about their surreal, absurdist world, and more about the act of creating, about the creative process and the emotional beats in our lives that can subconsciously direct our own creative energy. They're dense, and if you just can't get into the first one, you won't like any of 'em, really, though Jesse Rousseau has done other works. They're actually looking to do a documentary on Null bodies, which is what got me interested in the *Après* films to begin with." "Nice," you reply, quite earnestly. "Well, thanks for coming along, see ya Tuesday," he replies, and [[you part ways. -> Down On Friday]]

GeorgeBuddy: 1 GO: random.d6 Outed: Outed + GO HA: 1 -- George has some shopping to do. You meet him at a local big box store. "Glad you could make it," he replies, handing you a copy of his list, "I really wish my kids would tell me when they're running low on school supplies, I feel like I just bought half this list!" - Pencils - Pens - Notebook (wide rule, green and blue) - Watercolor paints (8 ct) - Garlic Bread - Almond Milk - Ice cream (peanut butter + lychee) - Cereal - Hot dogs - Relish - Poppy Seed Buns - Soup (tomato, cheddar broccoli) "How old are your kids, George?" You ask. "One just turned eight, the other is five, she *just* started kindergarten and is really excited about it. I'm just worried for the two of them, there's no easy way to tell if they're Null until they become of age; I just hope they don't end up following in my footsteps." "What do you mean?" You ask. "I'd rather them not be Null if it means their life is easier," he responds, "it's nice having you guys, but if you had the opportunity to change this about yourself, wouldn't you?" "I don't know," you reply, I've met you guys through my condition." "Just wish people would stop staring," he groans, and you spot a small crowd of people peering at the two of you, "so what have you been up to?" "Found a spot in my apartment building where we could *potentially* meet, I'll bring it up Friday. You?" "I don't have much other than that. Work's been hell, but that's not really here nor there. The missus wants me to tell you guys hello, she loves that this kind of a thing exists." "Tell her I appreciate the sentiment!" you reply. *** George slams the back hatch to his van closed. "Thanks for helping take care of things. I know it's not much, but here," he says, handing you two dollars, "it's the least I can do for your help." You push the money back. "No need, glad to see you doing well. See ya Tuesday." And with that, you get into your respective vechicles, and [[part ways at the stoplight. -> Down On Friday]]

MiriamBuddy: 1 HA: 1 -- You arrive at Miriam's place, and she opens the door for you. She is clad in a purple sweatshirt and jeans, with her hair done up in a bun and thicker-rimmed glasses on. "Come in, thanks for stopping by." She leads you into her office, which is packed with cluttered paperwork. "This is, to my knowledge, every academic article on Null Bodies in existence. A total of seventy-three papers across twenty-six years. We're going to sort these by date, just give me the document number up here and we'll work from there." You begin to rifle through the stacks of stapled papers. "This one's from two days ago, document ME-0288." "Alright, got that down. Do we have a 287 in this stack?" "What are the numbers, even?" You ask. "ME: Miriam Everworthy. 288, that's how many articles on ONE I've documented and archived. They're only for my eyes, really." "Got it. I don't see a 287." "Might be on some other topic. I've got 286 here, *Adrenaline Response in ONE-Averse Populations*, and 284 should be *ONE-Averse Activist Makes Waves on Banned Livestream*, ask me how I know." You come across article 284. A grainy black-and-white image of Miriam is on the front. "Got so much flak for that one, called a conspiracy theorist and a hack. Love to see those people now." You look around the room for any other signs of who Miriam might be outside of NAG. She was very active in debate club and activism groups even in high school, and you can't recall her wearing a shirt for a favorite band, a popular movie or stream series, not even a video game character holding a gun. The room's only decor, if it can be called that, are black wooden shelves holding a number of binders. "Anyone else live here?" You ask. "So this was my aunt's house," she says, "she passed five years ago, and at the time I temporarily dropped out of college to pay the mortgage on loan money. Since then, I filed to get those bills covered under "Off-campus living", and then I met Elise and Basque." "Roommates?" "A little more open than roommates," she jokes. "Focus! Article 260, written exactly one year ago today. Do we have a 259?" "Doesn't look like it. I've got 257 and 252." "255 here. But yeah they're wonderful people, just the most supportive. Basque works nights, they're usually up by 11:00, out of the house by midnight, back by 9:00, and then I don't hear from them again aside from when they have dinner with us. They just went back to bed. Maybe you'll get to see them soon. Elise has been an architectural blogger, she just shot a documentary about old turn-of-the-millenium stuff, that's going pretty well, it was crowdfunded online to the tune of $230,000?" "Holy shit," you blurt out. "Yeah, you tell me. I barely make enough month-to-month with activism to pay my share of the rent. Wish I had that kind of job security." "This is your job?" "Yeah, most of it's online--oh, we've got Article 228 right here--something like $1,800 a month from my blog, streams generally generate $240 in revenue between ads and actual donations, and I've started vlogging my activism, giving pieces to camera about being Null and the struggles Corporation ONE hits us with, those make about $1,600 a month in ad revenue. Also selling shirts with Null written on 'em, though I think I've only sold like ten? Fifteen?" You do the math in your head; Miriam is maybe living off of $4,000 a month doing all this. For the size of the house (a one-story ranch with a few cramped rooms stapled to a hallway connecting to the kitchen and living room) and the debt she's no doubt accrued from University, you do worry about her a little. This is pretty much all her life is, it seems; while Elise travels the country documenting weird old things and her only other partner is fast asleep in the daytime, Miriam digs into the depths on a drug that'll kill her. "See any good movies? Oh, 199, right here, end of last decade." "I can't say I have. I know Grant said he was going to one tonight. Not much of a movie gal." "TV? Books?" You ask. "The last show I watched was about how they mass produce common food items, it was quite interesting. No real books, got plenty of articles though." "Hey Miriam?" you ask, dreading what's coming. "Yeah?" she replies. "Do you just ever feel... lonely? Like, disconnected from others, that sort of way, like you don't fit in." "I mean, I don't. I'm Null, which has limited my ability to penetrate social circles and--" "I'm not just talking being Null. Like, a disconnect from popular culture and media. Like, what was the last video game you played?" "I'm not much one for computer games," she admits, "the last thing I played was I emulated Control. Kind of an old title about a government building. The story was too weird for me. It was one of Basque's dad's favorites growing up." "So what do you do outside of all this?" Miriam falls silent. "Miriam?" She begins to rifle through her stack of papers more quickly. "Got 183 here," she mutters. "I'm sorry," you begin. "You're right. Tell you what, after Tuesday, do you want to maybe... I don't know..." "How about mini golf?" You ask. "I haven't been since I was maybe ten... sure! Let's finish this up. *** You finally help her go through the documents, get them in chronological order, and she begins running a computer program to search through them for specific terminology. "I'm gonna let this run overnight, there's something like eight hundred thousand words to sift through. Thank you for coming over." As Miriam leads you back to the front door, you catch a glimpse of someone with a somewhat tanner complexion, their hair long and dark though with bleached locks running through it. They nod towards you, holding a coffee cup, their bicep pronounced even through their loose brown nightshirt, defined features complimenting a round, soft face. Miriam is quite lucky, you confirm. "Maybe we can discuss miniature golf sometime later," she says, walking you to your car. "Alright, well I'll see you around," you reply. As you leave the gravel driveway, you give Miriam [[one more wave. -> Down On Friday]]

EmmaBuddy: 1 HA: 1 -- "Glad you could stop by!" Emma says as you step into her home. It's not the most spacious, but it is decently cozy. A few potted plants hang from hooks in the ceiling and a framed poster of some musician from long ago rests on the back wall. A green tartan quilt is draped over the couch, matching the red tartan she wore so often. She picks up some hair dying supplies and sets them in a kitchen cabinet, and returns to the couch, holding a small bottle of bourbon and two glasses. "Want some?" she asks. "No thanks," you reply, and she pours herself a shot. "It's kind of scary," she says, "just everything going on? I'm really worried for Tuesday. What if someone still finds us?" "Why would they?" You ask. "It happened before," she replies with a sigh, "maybe a year or two ago, we were holding our meetings in the newer rec center, but then people came in and beat us up, so we moved into the older one soon after." "Damn," is your only reply. "It was at the big event where they announced 250 microgram ONE, so I only fear this Tuesday's going to be just as bad." "Hopefully we pick somewhere safe," you reply, "I think really anywhere should be fine. I've actually scoped out a spot in my apartment we *could* use if we want." "But what about the weeks after that? People know we meet there already, they just don't know when or what room, they're going to find out eventually." she asks. "Well, we can maybe figure that out next week, maybe find a new permanent place to keep the meetings." "I hope so," she responds, pouring another. Part of you doesn't want to even get into the fact that Emma's seemingly out drinking a lot. NAG's primary goal is to stop the intense marketing and apparent addiction to ONE, but yet she's grabbing a second shot and has been out clubbing at least once since you joined a couple weeks ago. Is that hypocrasy? You decide to lean into it a little. "It's kind of sad how often people rely on ONE to get through their day," you say. "Yeah, she responds, putting down the now empty shot glass. "Like, just chaining hits together back-to-back, before the first one even gets a chance to kick in? And then the people who go out to tasting parties with their friends just to get *hammered* on ONE." "Mmmhmm," she replies, nodding. "Like, any other drug, any other... substance, really, and people would shun you! But ONE gets a free pass, it's... dumb, it's just dumb." Emma begun to pour a third shot before grimacing, returning the bottle to the table. "Yeah..." she responds, "...can we change the subject?" "We could, yeah," you relent. "Did you know that Miriam has her own numbering system for *every* single file on ONE she's got?" Emma asks. "It's equal parts impressive and a little scary, really. It's at least a triple digit number already, and climbing." "Doesn't surprise me. She was at my high school and she was *big* on activism and debate." It's gotta be *exhausting* to be her," she replies, "I couldn't do it." "I couldn't imagine," you say. *** Another hour passes. Emma eventually returned the bourbon to her cabinet and came back with a bluffing card game. You had two characters in your hand who could do different things, and by collecting enough coins you could oust one of your opponent's two cards. It was quite nice, albiet probably better with more players. The box claims it supports six, though if someone else has an extra copy it could go up to twelve, which would be more than enough to let all of NAG play it. By the time your third round is over (you having finally beaten her once), she yawns and stands up. "I'm beat," she says, "I think I might run off to bed here soon. Hey, it's nice to hang out with you, thanks for stopping by," she responds, before giving you a quick hug. [[You think about that on your way home. -> Down On Friday]]

MIR: 1 -- And with your vote, everyone will be heading to Miriam's house. You pull up and knock on the door, and she opens it for you. "Alright, everyone is here! At least the usuals, I reached out to Jeff Saturday and then again Monday and never got a text both times, wonder why that might be. Well, thank you for coming, it's not our usual venue but I hope you'll make yourself at home. I want to start this week off by asking if anyone has anything for us." [if GeorgeBuddy === 1] George stands up, "Do you have any advice about talking to an old friend in public about being Null? I fear people might be eavesdropping." Miriam stands. "Honestly, a code phrase might help. We can hash out one particular one if you want one, but I've just mentioned I have an 'aversion' or 'allergy' to a flavor before to avoid these conversations. The easiest thing to do is just to not have them, sorry; we can try to come up with a better solution next week, though." [if GrantBuddy === 1] Grant stands. "Jesse Rousseau, one of my favorite directors, is doing a documentary on Null culture and people. I don't think it has a name yet, they just announced it a couple weeks ago. I went and saw their most recent film and it reminded me of that." "That's great to hear," Miriam says, "provided they do our history a service and tell it right, that is. There have been a number of attempts to tell our story on TV and in films but they just never have turned out right. I think the one most people unfortunately know of is *No ONE to Love Me*, which was made by ONE users, was an all ONE-user cast, and as such just relied on stereotypes to pad out its characters and runtime. People who take ONE hated its preachy characters, and Null Bodies hated the movie because every Null character is just really badly written and the end of the film suggests they shouldn't have been born. It's just not good no matter who you are. There are a couple other documentary things, but they tend to treat us like freaks, not as humans, which is really unfortunate." [if EmmaBuddy === 1 && HA === 0] Emma stands. "I'm giving up drinking," she says bluntly. Miriam stands for a second, silent, before stepping forward and putting an arm around Emma. "That's a really big move, we're all proud of you." "Thanks," she says, fighting back tears, "had some help coming to that conclusion. If we're fighting for people addicted to ONE, I should also try to kick my own habits, too." Miriam hugs Emma, and Emma returns to her seat. [if HA === 0] There's a few small comments, but nothing big this week. Stacy mentions that she's giving a small Null awareness lecture at parent teacher conferences, to which Miriam replies, "That's really great, hope they take your message to heart." [continue] Miriam takes out a short document in a folder. "I compiled a timeline of ONE activism and lawsuits," she says. [if MiriamBuddy === 1] [append] "Even got some help assembling all this." [else] "It took pretty much all weekend, but it's done." She passes around the timeline, and you flip through it when it makes it to you. "I'm confident there are gaps, especially throughout the last ten years. The story of Accusatory Mrs. Ableton that I keep finding is likely to be one of those, though I don't exactly know how to confirm that. I'm going to be working over the next few months to add to this, but this is becoming a permanent fixture on my blog and I highly encourage you all to share it. I've also got a video I'd like to show you all." Miriam turns on her TV and takes out her phone. A video of five people appears on the screen. "Hello Miriam!" they say in thick accents. "Hello!" Stacey says, gesturing. "It's a video, it's not live," Miriam replies, smiling at Stacey, who immediately apologizes. "We are Null and are *big* fans of your blog!" one of them says, "we read your stories about Emma and George all the time. From the Netherlands to you..." "Thank you!!" all of them reply in unison. "Just thought that was fun," Miriam says as the video ends and a grid of "related" videos appears on the screen (all of them more or less talking about some new kind of ONE). George suddenly takes on a worried look as Miriam continues about her timeline, and points to the screen. "What do they mean, 'Null-friendly ONE'?" he asks. "Hmm?" Miriam replies, turning to the screen, locking eyes with the thumbnail. "Probably just some sick joke," she concludes, shutting the TV off again. The timeline ends up back onto her coffee table, and she gives a slight bow. "Thank you all for coming over and holding NAG here. I'll look over the damage to our usual venue Monday and let you know if we'll be meeting here or there. I am very glad you felt at home here. Stay safe and take care." As you drive home, you consider what you heard from George. Surely that's not real... [[right? -> Feeling BLU]]

GAR: 1 -- And with your vote, the garage wins the vote. Tuesday comes, and you arrive at Mick's shop relatively early, just to give yourself some time just in case traffic was bad. Emma, Stacy, Grant, Mick, and Miriam are here already. "Hey, you made it!" Mick says, pushing a chair your way. A few minutes later, George walks through the door, closing it on his way in. "Hmm, no Jeff," Miriam murmurs, "I reached out to him Saturday and then again Monday and never got a text both times, that's a shame. Well, welcome to your NAG away from NAG. Due to a tasting party being held across the street from our usual venue, we're holed up in here for the week. Thank you, Mick, for providing the venue." "No problem!" he replies. "So, I want to start this week off by asking if anyone has anything for us." [if GeorgeBuddy === 1] George stands up, "Do you have any advice about talking to an old friend in public about being Null? I fear people might be listening in." Miriam stands. "Honestly, a code phrase might help. We can hash out one particular one if you want one, but I've just mentioned I have an 'aversion' or 'allergy' to a flavor before to avoid these conversations. The easiest thing to do is just to not have them." [if GrantBuddy === 1] Grant stands. "Jesse Rousseau, one of my favorite directors, is doing a documentary on Null culture and people. I don't think it has a name yet, they just announced it a couple weeks ago. I went and saw their most recent film and it reminded me of that." "That's great to hear," Miriam says, "provided they do our history a service and tell it right, that is. There have been a number of attempts to tell our story on TV and in films but they just never have turned out right. I think the one most people unfortunately know of is *No ONE to Love Me*, which was made by ONE users, was an all ONE-user cast, and as such just relied on stereotypes to pad out its characters and runtime. People who take ONE hated its preachy characters, and Null Bodies hated the movie because every Null character is just really badly written and the end of the film suggests they shouldn't have been born. It's just not good no matter who you are. There are a couple other documentary things, but they tend to treat us like freaks, not as humans, which is really unfortunate." [if EmmaBuddy === 1 && HA === 0] Emma stands. "I'm sobering up," she says bluntly. Miriam stands for a second, silent, before stepping forward and putting an arm around Emma. "That's a really big move, and I'm proud of you." "Thanks," she says, fighting back tears, "had some help coming to that conclusion. If we're fighting for people addicted to ONE, I should also try to kick my own habits, too." Miriam hugs Emma, and Emma returns to her seat. [if HA === 0] There's a few small comments, but nothing big this week. Stacy mentions that she's giving a small Null awareness lecture at parent teacher conferences, to which Miriam replies, "That's really great, hope they take your message to heart." [continue] Miriam takes out a short document in a folder. "I compiled a timeline of ONE activism and lawsuits," she says. [if MiriamBuddy === 1] [append] "Even got some help assembling all this." [else] "It took pretty much all weekend, but--" Suddenly, a TV in the room starts making noise. "You'll have to pay him no mind," Mick says, "he's just watching some kind of ONE event." "What?" Miriam says, before walking over. On the screen is two of the higher ups from Corporation ONE and a celebrity, holding a golden box about the size of a checkbook. "We are here to celebrate the 30th Anniversary of ONE, and what better way to celebrate than what's here in this box. But first, we have a number of new things to show you!" "What the fuck is this?" Miriam murmurs as the screen transitions to something new with a red arrow effect. "Refresh yourself with ONE Hydro!" an announcer says, before cutting to a commercial. In it, two people are surfing on a hot Summer day. They wipe out, wash up on the beach, and with them come two bottled waters. They each pick one up, stare at each other, and then high five. "Each bottle contains a full dose of ONE!" the ad quips. "What, no!" Miriam shouts. By this point, the rest of NAG has stepped over to the TV to watch. The next ad starts up. A sizzle reel of new flavors of ONE coming soon. Nothing terribly egregious at first. "That one was 300 micrograms," Miriam exclaims as a lemon shortbread flavor fades from view. Sure enough, the following flavors each have stronger doseages on them. Buttered apple is a 350 mcg pill, a horchata flavor is seen in 400 mcg, a tequila flavor in 450, and lastly a salsa verde flavor, coming in at 500 micrograms over six hours. The ad fades to black. "Now, we have one more major announcement, but first we want to show you the future of ONE," the hosts say as the camera fades back on them. The two of them pull the box open slowly, revealing a single bright cyan pill in a velvet case. It's oblong and full of a nearly glowing fluid. "This is ONE CENTURION, the first ONE that lasts a full year, available in blue raspberry lemonade and gingerbread flavors." The celebrity pulls the pill out of its expensive housing and downs it live. Nearly immediately he rolls his head back and gives a sigh of satisfaction. "This is the greatest new thing to come to ONE in thirty years!" he says, "been a lifelong fan and nothing tops this." "You say that," one of the executives says, "but we have one last announcement." A red block slides across the screen, and an arrow shape separates from the banner. It glides all across the screen, slowly turning from red to blue, before stopping. The screen fades to white, and fading in is a single pill on a blue box. "ONE BLU is a new formulation of ONE with a 100% effectivity rate. If you're of age, you can take ONE BLU. All products shown will be available later today at all good stores." The screen fades to black. Miriam is immediately enraged by what she heard. "There's no way in *hell* there's a Null-safe ONE! They've been plotting to destroy Null Bodies for ages! This--this has to be some kind of trick or gambit, I just know it!" Mick's coworker gets up and walks outside, having heard enough of Miriam's comments. The meeting more or less dissolves from there, with everyone [[unsure of how to proceed. -> Feeling BLU]]

[If BAS === 1 || MIR === 1] You quickly find a list online of everything announced at the ONE presentation today. On top of many new flavors, you learn there's a bottled water with ONE dissolved in it, there's a new type of ONE that lasts for a full year (alarmingly), and the big reveal that a new formulation of ONE is 100% effective in all of-age users, with no risk of the side effects you've come to expect being Null. [continue] Null is now ONE-friendly, there's no getting around that. You aren't exactly sure how you feel about that, but it isn't pleasant. You have a sinking feeling that next week is going to be quite a rough one. The group text, by that evening, is 100 messages deep into discussing the new product. "What now?" Mick asks. "We are still fighting ONE. Even if it's 'safer', that's still not safe. People are still addicted to this, it has to be stopped!" Miriam replies. *** Next week arrives, and you meet at your usual place. The entire entrance to the building has been covered in blue paint, with smeared handprints running along the walls. You spot Miriam picking at the paint with a scraper. "Everything alright?" You ask. "Other than everything being plastered in latex paint, it's fine," she replies, quite sternly. "Are *you* doing alright?" you clarify. Miriam huffs, then turns to you. "Honestly? These people think that after everything they fought for, they should just turn to Corporation ONE because they feel they're being catered to just makes me sick! If you weren't here to be a Null advocate, then what's the point?" "I thought this was an awareness group, not advocacy." She gives you a glare, then hands you a scraper. "I just can't deal with this right now!" she yells, walking back to your usual meeting room. After about ten minutes, Stacy and Grant arrive and help you peel the rubbery paint off the walls. "Is this all the damage?" Stacy asks. "I don't know," you reply, "Miriam made it sound like it, but she's *really* on-edge today." "I can imagine," Grant replies, "she seemed like it in her texts." You eventually resign yourself to leaving small flecks and patches on the wall, throw the torn paint away, and then walk back into the meeting room. Miriam is rifling through easily twenty packets and articles she's printed out, highlighting things. "Glad you could make it!" she replies, handing you one of them. [align center] *Mrs. Ableton and the Public Relations Smear Campaign: How One Company Ruined a Woman's Life*, [align left] published six years ago. I want everyone to read the article I'm giving you and ask me if you can even begin to think about supporting this corporation! They've ruined countless lives, gotten millions addicted, and you want to just resign yourself to popping their pills just because they cater to you?!" The Miriam standing before you lacks a lot of the solemn, analytical qualities you've seen in her since joining NAG, now feeling a lot like the more tempermental, emotional activist she was years ago on social media. You've seen her more inflammatory posts and figured that, as they were older, she had grown out of it. Nope. You flip through yours, it's about a woman who claims that Corporation ONE made her son not want to spend time with her anymore and wanted to sue them for everything they're worth. More specifically, the article asserts that this story was a fabrication made by Corporation ONE to hide the death of her son Edgar. There's no sources to confirm this other than personal interview, unfortunately, so the actual reason for the lawsuit is hotly debated. Emma shows you hers, which is simply about someone getting hospitalized for distracted driving, supposedly caused by ONE usage. The meeting is quick, and you begin to consider if maybe the stress is [[wearing Miriam thin, -> A Vacation]] but at the same time you worry this crusade will all be for [[nought in the end. -> You And What Army?]]

Thursday, you, Emma, and Mick hatch a plan. You arrive to Miriam's house and knock on the door. A shorter woman with white hair, thick-rimmed glasses, and a very stylish shirt that reads "Nonstandard Florida" opens the door. "You must be Elise's friends!" she says in an incredibly cute little voice. "We're in NAG with her, we wanted to surprise her with something." "Yeah! Come on in!" Elise replies. She gives Miriam's door a rhytmic knock and opens it up. "Your friends are here!" Miriam steps out, her hair arranged into a messy bun, clutching a mug of something. "I had just gotten settled in maybe three hours ago to get to work, what are you all doing here?" Mick then steps forward and hands her a coupon. "They're doing half-price lanes Tuesday, we wanted to treat you to something other than just endlessly reading about Corporation ONE. You're talking about how they're addicted, but you seem the part, too, constantly checking in on everything." "But this is important," she says. "Doesn't matter. We already paid for a lane for Tuesday. Either you come with us or we'll just leave a big, open, empty seat." Miriam stares at the coupon again, some time passes. *** Tuesday, Miriam arrives at the bowling alley. I haven't gone bowling in ages," she says, picking up a relatively lightweight bowling ball. "I used to do this in high school!" George replies, taking out his own ball, polished to a mirror shine. The night goes well between all of you at NAG, with Emma scoring the best at 143 points. Miriam did well for her first time in so long, managing 70 pins in total. Even though Grant came in last with just 51, he still had a great time heckling his friends. "Isn't it great to be out doing other stuff?" Emma asks. "It is, but I'm just--" "Relax," Mick says, "it'll all still be there when you get home. You've done a lot, you deserve some rest." [if EmmaBuddy === 1] "I hear you wanted to try miniature golf?" You ask. [else] "Anything else you'd want to try?" You ask. "Hey, Samson Falls does discounts for mini golf parties larger than 5!" Stacy replies. "That'd be fun, but--" Miriam begins. "Next Tuesday?" George asks. "...Sure," Miriam replies. *** *It took some coaxing, but Miriam is finally coming out of her shell. Board games and outings become a more common endeavor for your group, and with ONE BLU replacing the original formulation over the next six months, your fears about dying from accidental contact are all but eradicated. The entire group seems to function better, runs smoother, and Miriam even begins to take a backseat to let discussions bloom around her, rather than simply thanks to her.* {restart link, label: 'This feels like the beginning of a strong friendship between you all.'}

GK: random.d20 -- You round up the rest of the members of the group and set up a new group text without Miriam. "I'm worried about Miriam." "She really seems unhappy," Emma replies, "I've only ever seen her this riled up once." "I don't know how much more of this I can take," George replies, "it's getting out of hand." "We should try to stand up to her," you reply. And so you hatch a plan, next week you all will arrive before Miriam, and have a talk with her about her behavior. Your argument is that this isn't just a place for her to push you all around to accept her beliefs, a means to flex her own ego. It should be for everyone, and everyone should be equals. *** [if GK > 12] You arrive next Tuesday over an hour before it is set to begin, and with the entire crew in tow. You're armed with printouts from other Null Awareness Groups with the sole intent to show her that most others are formatted with no singular leader. Sure enough, about fifteen minutes later, Miriam arrives, looking around the room in shock, nearly dropping her folders. "What are you all doing here so early?" she asks. "Look, Miriam. We're glad you've decided to run this chapter of NAG, but we're less than thrilled about your need to be a leader." You pin a flier to the wall and begin to read. "'Does NONE have a leader?' This is the NAG group out of Pari--" "I know them," Miriam scoffs. You continue. "'No! We believe that each experience is as valuable as the last. We encourage each user to take the lead of a particular session as they see fit and do not want it to seem like *one person is delegating tasks* or responsibilities onto others.' Here's one from a group in Rockhampton, Australia--" "Mitchell runs that!" Miriam exclaims. "Is that so? 'While Null Together was founded by Mitchell Weiss, he does not see himself as their leader. "I don't want people to think it's *all about me*", he said in an interview, "This is about all of us, together. I'm here if people need me, but I'm *not a boss or a manager".'" Emma steps forward, with a local interview. "'NAG is vastly different from other Null groups we've interviewed because they have a de facto leader, one Miriam Everworthy. She leads discussions on a weekly basis and, in her own words, *"has assigned homework"* on occasions. Most groups interviewed instead skew more social and casual, with each person helping the other through difficulties in their life and a general lack of rigidity in topic.'" Grant steps forward. "'Mr. Weiss told 2YU Radio that he felt that a leader causes issues, citing a personal anecdote about fellow Null Activist Miriam Everworthy, who he felt was "dominating, abrasive, and hard to work with, *even without the distance between us*".'" "What we're saying is that we'd like to be like the other NAG groups, Miriam," Stacy says, "and I hope you'll come to understand that." She flushes red, her face awash with emotion. First shock, then betrayal. Anger, confusion, and finally, everything comes boiling out. She slumps to the ground and sobs. *** *Having consoled an emotional Miriam, she has at last agreed to take a step back from leading NAG. You are a more social group now, discussing highs and lows to your week, with Miriam discussing her studies but not making them the focus. You can tell that, in her eyes, she thinks she failed, but over time her cold, work-focused demeanor begins so soften up, and she eventually finds herself spending less time focusing on articles and research and more just finding out who she is. In just a few short months, Miriam seems to be a happier, more easygoing person, and you can't help but feel this was a win for everyone involved.* {restart link, label: 'It feels like it was for the better.'} [else] You and the group arrive nearly an hour early to catch Miriam off-guard, but coming into the room you already see her laying out huge folders, taking things from them. "Oh, you're here. Give me just a minute, we can start soon," she says, handing everyone another article. "Actually, Miriam, we have something we'd like to discuss with *you*," George says, handing the stapled papers back. "What do you mean?" she asks. "Every other Null group out there like us doesn't have a leader," he replies. "Bullshit," Miriam says bluntly, "Mitchell Weiss runs the Rockhampton chapter, I'm not the only one." "Chapter of...?" you ask. "NAG," Miriam states. "See, I have this article here," you continue, "from an interview with Mitchell, his group is called Null Together, and, to quote him, 'I don't want people to think it's *all about me*. This is about all of us, together. I'm here if people need me, but I'm *not a boss or a manager.'" "I know Mitch, that guy *has* to run that thing, it doesn't run itself." Emma steps forward, with a local interview. "'NAG is vastly different from other Null groups we've interviewed because they have a de facto leader, one Miriam Everworthy. She leads discussions on a weekly basis and, in her own words, *"has assigned homework"* on occasions. Most groups interviewed instead skew more social and casual, with each person helping the other through difficulties in their life and a general lack of rigidity in topic.'" "And we're better for it! Who is the biggest name in Null Activism? Go on, name one bigger." Stacy takes out her paper. "Dhruv Agarwal is consider the grandfather of Null Activism, being an active blogger and public speaker for twenty-five years, appearing in radio and television interviews, having been the guest speaker at the International Medical Conference three times in his life." Miriam was seething. "Well, then go hang out with Dhruv, for all I care! Can't believe this fucking disrespect..." Miriam storms out, taking her papers with. Everyone else looks around the room worried. You got what you want, but at what cost? Is it even worth trying to [[talk to Miriam about this? -> Where is Miriam?]] *** *Without Miriam, NAG moves on. You and company revert it into an awareness group first, and a few new members join over the next two months. Miriam starts up her own Null Advocacy group shortly thereafter, and while there is bad blood between the two of you, it's strictly one-sided.* {restart link, label: 'Things could have gone better, but this was the best you could do given the situation.'}

Next Tuesday arrives, and Miriam doesn't respond to any texts or show up. Worried for her, you rush out to her house. The lights are still on, curtains drawn. You worriedly knock on the door, only to be greeted by a tall, tanned person, incredibly toned. "Can I help you kids?" they ask in a very friendly tenor. "Is Miriam home?" you ask. "Is Miriam *okay*?" Stacy clarifies. "She's in her office, come in. The name's Basque, by the way." You shake their hand (an alarmingly firm handshake, nonetheless), and walk into the apartment. [if MiriamBuddy === 1] [append] You approach her office, and knock on the door. "Tell her I'm off to bed," Basque replies. [else] [append] "Her office is right here," Basque says. [continue] You hear a groan from the other side, but no movement. You nod to the rest of the group and step into the office. It's dark, the only light coming from her screen, playing a ten hour loop of wolfdog videos. Miriam is slumped on her floor, a *very* content look on her face, and a crushed plastic bottle in her hands. "Are you okay?!" Emma cries. "She is *very* okay," George replies. You take the bottle from her hand with no resistance. It's ONE BLU, though the bottle of 30mcg pills with a six-hour duration is entirely empty. "She'll be fine, I think," you reply, holding up the bottle. You grab Miriam's arm gently and she nearly completely swoons. She gets up and feebly walks to the couch, where you sit her down. "Are you alright?" "Can I... um, can I ask a question?" she replies, dreamily. "Go ahead." "Am I dead?" *** It takes several hours for her to sober up, her answers becoming more and more lucid over time. Miriam was definitely attempting to take her own life with ONE, but had mistakenly bought a bottle of BLU, which is being stocked in greater numbers than the regular in most places. "We just want you to know we'd love to have you back with us, just we want to be able to be pieces to a whole, not underlings." You don't know how much of this is due to her obscene blissful stupor (she does hold hands with you the entire time, refusing to let go), but she eventually responds in a surprising manner: "Yes, I will." *And next week, she keeps true to her word. A newcomer to the group, Jeff, attends the next meeting and he is given just as much of an active role as Miriam. She still brings her work to the meetings, but it's not a major part of every meeting. She is, through it all, another part of the group. There is some worry though that Miriam seems to be less tempermental and, in general, vocal during meetings. George and Mick thinks she might be on ONE BLU the entire time, though nobody can confirm this.* {restart link, label: 'It is, through everything, a happy ending, though just how happy can be debated.'}

ESQ: random.d20 -- Tuesday arrives, and you begin to head back to NAG. A large group of people outside are chatting and popping pills, and some of them make eye contact as you arrive. You park along the back of the building simply to avoid the group, and slip in via a back way. You arrive to your usual meeting room, only to find it nearly empty. A single guy, clad in khakis and a blue dress shirt, is lounging in a chair, drinking from a cucumber lime beverage. "Are you Miriam?" he asks, putting his bottle down. "No. Where is she?" you ask. "I read her text. Tuesday, 340 Graham. Here I am. Name's Jeff DuBois." "Text, shoot," you reply, checking your own phone. Turns out Miriam is holding NAG somewhere different this week, and you assume the now rather loud crowd outside is the reason why. "Turns out they're holding the meeting somewhere else," you say, "but I don't know about that crowd outside." "We could [[just stay here, -> Sit and Survive]] chat, get me up to speed, and wait for next week," he says. "We could also [[get out of here -> Running Hell]] before it gets worse, though," you reason. "Well make a decision, then!" he replies, taking another swig from his drink.

Chance: ESQ - Outed -- "We should probably wait for things to blow over," you say. "Gotcha," he replies. You take out your own phone and text Miriam. "Jeff is here, at the rec center." Suddenly, you get a video call. "Hello?" You say, propping your phone up on a table, Jeff scooting his chair closer. [if random.coinFlip] "I'm just glad you're safe!" Miriam says, seemingly in someone's house. [else] "I'm just glad you're safe!" Miriam says, seemingly in a garage. [continue] "Are we gonna do the meeting like this?" You ask. "We could," Miriam replies, setting her phone down. "Jeff, I haven't gotten to meet you. Mind telling me a bit about yourself?" "Hi, my name's Jeff. 22. Going to college to become a teacher, thanks to the cool English teachers I had growing up. I've known I was null for maybe three years? Found you guys through a post, and here I am." The rest of you deliver your introductions, and he nods and interjects with leading questions each time, until he gets to Emma. "I'm Emma, and--" "No way! Emma, hi!" he says, waving. "Oh! Cousin Jeff, wow. Nice to see you here!" Emma replies. "At least you know someone here real well!" George quips. *** [if Chance > 8] The rest of the meeting goes real well, Jeff listens and adds to conversations, and honestly just fits really well into the group. By the time the meeting ends, most of the crowd outside has gone home. Whatever venue was out there seemingly only lasted thirty minutes, give or take. You end the call, put your phone away, and shake Jeff's hand. "I'll be seeing you around next week, then?" you ask. "Yeah, and I'll tell Miriam I'm sorry for not answering her texts. I'm not a texter, haha." As you get into your car and drive home, you feel you made the right choice. *Sticking around to meet Jeff made a world of a difference. Next week he shows up once again and adds to the conversations greatly. By the end of a month, you can't imagine NAG without him. You're glad you took the initiative to wait it out.* {restart link, label: 'Next time, you'll definitely check your texts before you leave, though.'} [else] About ten minutes into the meeting, you hear a bang outside and some yelling. "Shit," Jeff says, running out into the hall to see what's going on. "You guys alright?" Miriam asks. "I think s--" you begin. Jeff bolts back into the room. "They're coming, and they have *blue paint*!" he shouts. "What?!" Miriam exclaims. Suddenly, you see a number of people running at you, yelling indiscriminately. The two things you can make out amid all their shouting and protests is the phrase "Nulls go to hell!" and "ONE Blue!", whatever that means. {restart link, label: 'Maybe you should have run, but maybe trying to run would have been foolish in the first place. If there's a next time, you'll definitely check your phone before leaving.'}

"So, how are we doing this?" Jeff asks. "Well, the back doors in receiving aren't alarmed anymore, so we can get out that way, but we have to be careful. I don't know if I want them seeing us do this." "Got it. You leading the way once we get on the road?" he asks. "Yeah, I can." "Only one problem, though... I parked out front." "Wh... Jeff!" you cry. "Didn't know there'd be a mob my first day, sorry!" he quips, continuing your joking tone. [if ESQ < 16] You sneak out the back, and point Jeff down to the end of a strip mall. "Come out around there and just walk all the way around. Try to avoid this place, like you're a regular. That should give you an alibi. I'll sit over at the gas station across the street until I see you get into your car. From there, just follow me." "Got it," he replies. You get in, get onto the main road, and immediately take a right, parking in a spot across from the pumps. You watch Jeff round the corner after nearly a minute, toss his empty drink bottle into a trash can outside a massage parlor, and then dodge past the rec center, flipping it off for good measure. He gets into a very old silver sedan, its lights pop up, and he signals to get out of the parking spot. From there, you get onto the road and drive off. *Your daring stunt had no reason to work that well, truly. Jeff is a natural part of the group and by this time the following month, you can't imagine NAG without him.* {restart link, label: 'You definitely should have checked your phone first, and Jeff needs to get better about texting others.'} [else] You sneak out the back, and point Jeff down to the end of a strip mall. "Come out around there and just walk all the way around. Try to avoid this place, like you're a regular. That should give you an alibi. I'll sit over at the gas station across the street until I see you get into your car. From there, just follow me." "Got it," he replies. You get in, get onto the main road, and immediately take a right, parking in a spot across from the pumps. You watch Jeff round the corner after nearly a minute, toss his empty drink bottle into a trash can outside a massage parlor, but as he passes by the rec center, someone clutching a bottle of pills dashes across the road and stops him. Shit. You begin to drive back over to him, but suddenly the man sticks his fingers in Jeff's mouth, and he nearly immediately begins to convulse. The guy jumps in front of your vehicle and starts yelling at you, but you're too focused on Jeff to hear what he's saying. {restart link, label: 'Before you know it, the man is sticking his hands through your window.'}