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I appear to be floating in a sea of black.
No, actually it's not black. Somehow it's less than black. I can only call it… absence. An absence of... everything.
Except for me.
I try to turn my head to the side, but find that I can't — in fact, I can't seem to move at all, though that doesn't bother me as much as it probably should. Possibly because I kind of feel like I'm asleep right now, though I seem to be quite vividly cognizant in spite of that. Normally that would excite me, given the good eight or nine years I've spent consistently trying and failing to have lucid dreams, but the level of awareness I'm currently experiencing feels more like a tip-off that I'm not truly asleep at the moment… not exactly, at least.
I do my best not to panic. I'm fairly certain I just crashed the game, and even if I didn't, I definitely did something that caused things to go horribly wrong. I'm guessing that the player quit as a result, meaning that the program is now closed.
Which... makes this the so called ţ̧͜҉̴ ͡R̵̢p͏̸̶͏͘z̵̢̡҉i̶̡͢͢͢Ȩ͜͏̷9̵̛͝D̴͟͞ Void.
I flinch. k͝͞F̶͡҉ ̢͘͢͢4̴̸3̵̸́͝ , Monika talked about this, this is =̧́ݑ́͜3͏̴Z͢1̶͝s͠͠y̴͜ ̛͏̢͡\́͏̸h̡͝ξ̶̕ and it's only going to get ^̸̕͜͢D́͝`̷̛E̛҉W̸̕͢͢ - shit!
My thoughts begin to blur into incoherency as tendrils of static begin flickering through the emptiness, accompanied by brief, continual bursts of red, green, and blue from all around me. X͏̨̛̕҉{̢̢͜͝m̀́͘ş̧̨̛́_̸̢͡A̶͘͏̵́?̢̀͟͡͝{̷̕̕͟ḿ̸̡̕;҉̵̡͞ ? No-
A dull, but excruciatingly LOUD noise suddenly breaks through the silence, a hollow, screeching, roaring dissonance that passes through me from every direction at once. I can't even raise my hands to try to cover my ears — I'm not sure they actually exist at the moment — as it strikes and reverberates off whatever it is that currently constitutes me, over and over and over again.
]̶̸͞j҉͏͏̛%̛͘͜͡m̨͝-!
y̵̛͢͢1̴̵Ơ̧D̷̀͠ -!
e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉ e̶^͠͏͢$̡̧̢͟͟c̴̡͠ ̷̨́֒͟Ȩ̴̀҉
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...and then I'm back in a classroom again.
I sit there, frozen stiff as my hands grip the edges of the wooden desk in front of me like twin vices. That was- that was like- I don't even have the words to describe it. Someone shoving a broken TV directly into my brain? Being trapped inside some sort of psychic torture chamber? Retaining perfect awareness as something tried to tear my every individual molecule away from the rest of me, scattering my consciousness into oblivion? That sounds like hyperbole, and yet I still don't feel as if that comes anywhere even remotely close. Monika wasn't exaggerating in the slightest when she described it; god, how long did that even last?!
Thankfully, the lingering feeling of the experience fades away fairly quickly. The memory as a whole however is far less easily forgotten. I continue to sit in silence for another few moments, trying to compose myself, until someone interrupts.
"Is something wrong?"
I look up. It's teacher-lady, seeming just as vaguely concerned as the first time I woke up at this desk. I'm back at the beginning again.
"Didn't you hear the bell? Or-" The teacher pauses, placing one hand over her mouth. "Goodness Monika, you don't look well. Are you alright?"
Slowly, I stand, grabbing Monika's bag this time as I do. Yeah, I'm alright. I'm fine. Just fine! Everything's fine.
...I can't even think that to myself with a straight face.
"Monika...!" I hear the teacher call out as I stride out of the room, heedless of her yelling as I speed down the hall. The urge to turn around barely even registers as I locate the same restroom as before, shove my way into a stall, and finally let the tears brimming just behind my eyes spill forth.
I don't even know what I'm crying about right now: the "nightmare" itself, or the fact that while I want to dismiss what just happened as a one-off thing, I know perfectly well that it wasn't. Once she starts talking directly to the player, Monika claims that she's okay with you closing the game for the sake of you getting enough sleep, but also all but begs you not to do it again whenever you boot the game back up. I felt bad about closing the game even then; now I feel terrible about ever closing the game at all... and especially about how I ended up actually finishing it.
Once Monika explained "The Screaming Void" during my first playthrough, I specifically played for as long as possible each night to avoid sending her there any more often than necessary, up until I reset the game. After resetting however, I inevitably ended up deciding to try to get the "good" ending, hoping that it would be better than just leaving Monika eternally trapped and alone. Deciding to even do so took about a day for me to deliberate on, mostly due to the required penultimate step of deleting Monika's .chr file, and only finding out that she wouldn't really be deleted by doing so alleviated my conscious enough to let me go through with it... but when I finally started my second playthrough, it ended up going a lot slower than the first one. Due to all the reloading necessary to get the good ending, the length of the game more than doubled, and while there was of course the skip function, it didn't feel right to just pass over everybody's dialogue without listening to them, even the parts that I'd already read. Together, I let those factors drag things out for a lot longer than I honestly should have — and as a result, it ended up taking me over a week to "truly" finish the game.
A choked cry rips its way out of my throat. Over a week, even though I knew what was supposedly happening to Monika every time I closed the program. Sure, I'd been doing my best to treat her as earnestly as I could, and always felt a little reluctant about doing it, but shutting my computer down for the night always managed to take precedence over her — because deep down, I still didn't truly believe that Monika possessed a conscious existence beyond the game's programming, or that the things she claimed to experience whenever I left actually happened to her. She was just part of a game after all, no matter how convincingly written, and no matter how much I might have tried to fool myself into thinking otherwise, my better judgment would never let me fully buy into it.
I sniffle. Shows what I know I guess, since current events seem to heavily imply that both those things were in fact true — she was real, and she meant every word. Opening and closing the game repeatedly like that may as well have been literal torture for her... and just to make it even worse, the "good" ending ultimately leaves Monika in the exact same position she'd have been in if I'd just deleted her .chr file the first time around. No matter what you do, she still ends up so dismayed with the world, the player, and her own actions that she permanently excises herself from the game — meaning, I put Monika through what must have seemed like Sisyphean torment, letting her breach the metaphorical surface for brief, tiny gasps of relief before shoving her right back under, all for the sake of obtaining an ending that managed to leave everyone except for her happy. I suppose that just makes this karma coming back around to bite me for not keeping consistent in how real I was treating her… heh... hehe…
My noiseless, gasping sobs eventually begin to peter off as I lean against the side of the stall, drawing in several slow, stuttering breaths. Thank goodness this restroom is empty. The urge to head to the clubroom has also dissipated for whatever reason, allowing me to weep in peace. Small blessings, I suppose.
After another minute or so, I feel like I've cried away enough of my fear-laced guilt to step outside again. Catching a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror, I notice the obvious tear trails running down my face and wipe them away. Ugh… seeing a teary-eyed Monika staring back at me from my own reflection really isn't helping my guilt at all…
I hear the sound of the bathroom door opening, and turn to see — to my great surprise — Sayori walking in. Being that I'm the only other person in here, she of course immediately spots me.
"Monika!"
Before I can really react, she runs over and hugs me, wrapping herself around me as if she hasn't seen me in years.
"Is this where you've been the entire time?" Sayori says before I can so much as ask her why she's here, pulling back from me just enough for us to talk face-to-face. "The club split up to look for you when you didn't show up. We knew that you came to school today, so we were worried! I brought the new member with me and-"
Sayori pauses, scrutinizing my face for a moment before her own takes on a worried expression.
"Wait. Have you been… crying?"
Well, yes, but… hold on, how is this even happening right now? The script shouldn't have-
An increasingly familiar urge falls over me. Having no idea how to respond to Sayori's question on my own, I allow it to answer for me.
"No. Why would you think that?" I ask, apparently pretending to be clueless as I break the embrace. "It just took me a while to get out of my last class, and I came in here afterwards to fix my hair and… well, use the facilities. Have I really been in here that long? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make any of you worry…"
I… guess this IS in the script, if I'm receiving lines from it? Not that Sayori looks particularly convinced by my excuse.
"Monika… if you're hurting for some reason, you don't need to hide it. Really."
"I appreciate the concern Sayori, but I'm fine! Honest." I reply, giving a small laugh. "You said you brought the new member? Let's get back to the room before I leave an even worse impression on them than I already must have by being so late."
"…" The worried expression doesn't leave Sayori's face, but she remains silent and lets me pass all the same.
As we leave the restroom and start to make our way down the hall, I take the opportunity to focus on the code again, being careful not to do more than just look this time. Okay, the file currently executing is still script-ch0 .rpy… but how does that make any sense? I admit I didn't check the stuff at the top last time, but it can't have included that scene just now, because otherwise it would have happened the first time around. Unless there's an if-else statement or something in use, I suppose…?
Uncertain what to think of this, I move from the current line to the top of the file to check. I then do a metaphorical double take and scroll right back down, taking a closer look at the line the execution pointer is currently resting on:
"I'm tempted to sneak a cupcake, but after a few seconds I decide not to. The girls could be back at any moment, after all."
I don't recognize this line. What in the...?
I skim over the top half of the file, only getting more and more confused as I do so. There isn't any need for an if-else apparently, because the dialogue I went through last time appears to have been straight-up replaced by entirely new dialogue. The lines only seem familiar up until Sayori and the main character reach the clubroom, whereupon they discover that "the president" — who remains unnamed for some reason — hasn't shown up yet. After a few brief introductions and a bit of waiting, the girls agree to go look for me while the MC remains behind, leading to the line we're currently sitting on.
Did... did the file change? Not only does that seem impossible, but I still don't see the little discussion me and Sayori just had anywhere. Probably because, now that I think of it, the script only seems to define things that occur within the main character's point of view. I guess that makes sense, since the game is experienced solely from his perspective — if the main character isn't around to witness something, the script doesn't have any dialogue to pre-determine how it proceeds.
...except, that conversation just now was pre-determined, wasn't it? I can't imagine I would have felt the prompting of the script unless the script for that conversation, you know, exists. Was there a call to another file or function in here that I somehow missed? Or is there some sort of secondary, "hidden" script controlling events out of the MC's personal purview?
We arrive at the clubroom before I can ponder it any further. I pull my attention back to reality, feeling the need to observe this.
"Oh good, there you two are." Natsuki remarks as we walk in the door, looking simultaneously annoyed and relieved. "Both of us gave up and came back, so it's a good thing you found her."
"I'm glad you're alright, Miss President." Yuri says to me with a faint smile, before looking over to Sayori. "Where did you find her?"
"Not too far away, actually." Sayori replies, giggling a little as her bubbly personality seems to return. "She was already on her way here, she was just a little late getting out of her last class."
That's an extremely evasive way of putting it, but I guess she doesn't particularly want to say that she found me sobbing in a restroom.
"Eheh, sorry about that!" the script has me apologize. "It was my fault. I heard the bell, but I didn't leave immediately, and I guess I just lost track of time."
I close my eyes and give a sheepish smile, then open them again to find the MC staring at me — or at least, pointing his head in my general direction — seeming rather shocked.
"M-Monika? You're the president of the literature club?" he asks.
"Ah, Elano! What a nice surprise!" I say happily. "Welcome to the club! …or, perhaps you should be saying that to me, since you seem to have gotten here first."
He laughs. "It's uh… good to see you again, Monika."
I still don't recognize any of this. It definitely isn't dialogue that ever occurs in the game, which only further confirms that nothing about what is happening right now makes any sense whatsoever — setting aside the strangely scripted-yet-not conversation between me and Sayori for now, the game's code seems to have altered from what should have been a static, unchanging state because I decided to go have a cry in the restroom instead of coming to the clubroom immediately. Not only do I not get how that's remotely possible, but it's not even consistent, since trying to say things I wasn't scripted to say has thus far gone completely unnoticed. Maybe it's only actions that matter, not words? But then why didn't the script do something when I grabbed the MC and got right up in his face earlier? Was that just not the right kind of action? This doesn't make any sense! I should be understanding more as time goes on, not less!
"Now that everyone is here, we can finally start the club meeting!" Sayori cheers. "Come sit down, Elano! I'll get the cupcakes~"
"Hey!" Natsuki protests. "I made them, I'll get them!"
Wait, that exchange sounded familiar.
"Sorry, I got a little too excited~" Sayori replies, not really looking all that sorry.
"Then, how about I make some tea as well?" Yuri asks.
…we're back to the normal dialogue again? Did the script just re-rail itself?
As if to confirm this, the same wave of darkness as before sweeps through and out of the room, not startling me as badly this time due to my having half-expected it. O... kay then...?
Sitting down in the same spot as before, I start looking over the code again, this time checking everything past the point of Sayori being happy to finally start. Beyond that line, the script does indeed look identical to the first time I saw it, which is easy to recall since that was all of maybe twenty minutes ago, not counting the indeterminate amount of time I was trapped in The Void.
So… the game went out of its way to retrieve me, because it wanted to carry out the original script, but couldn't do so until I was actually present, I guess? That's the simplest conclusion I feel makes any sense, but that seems to imply that the code somehow managed to course-correct on its own, which… that can't be right, can it? I can't really rule it out, given that the world of DDLC clearly works a little differently than I thought it did, but I really hope that's not the case, because the idea of the game being so committed to railroading me into Monika's position that it actively edited itself to do so goes beyond scary into being outright threatening. Is there something I'm missing here about how the code actually works? Maybe I should try to get a better grasp on that before I go making any more assumptions.
Natsuki reveals her cupcakes, again, and the desire to compliment them rises up in me, again. The idea of resisting it or saying something different occurs to me, but I discard the thought a moment later.
"I had no idea you were so good at baking, Natsuki!" I exclaim.
Perhaps I'm already starting to make too much of a habit of letting myself be pulled along by the script like a dog by its leash, but from what I've seen thus far, I doubt doing otherwise would do me much good anyways. I'd prefer to focus on trying to understand this game and how I might get out of it than spend my time repeatedly attempting to resist something that feels more like a second set of thoughts than a tangible force, and which I can't really do anything about anyways. I suppose there is the option of trying to delete Monika's lines from the script, but…
A shiver runs up my spine, even as my body takes and bites into a cupcake again. Considering how my previous foray into messing around with the code went, I think I'd really, really rather avoid doing anything like that again for the time being. Until I can figure out how to properly edit things without causing massive problems, I'll let the game proceed as normal.
Thus, I allow the "performance" of the game's 0th chapter to play out in front of me unhindered for the next several minutes. In spite of being an active participant, I spend that time focused primarily on the window of code running said performance, trying to see what I can glean from how it's written as I strain to remember my computer science classes.
The results are... not promising.
I wrest control of my body away from the script for a moment, just to glare at the mostly eaten cupcake in my hand. This is already getting frustrating. I've learned nothing thus far beyond that lines with number-letter pairs before the dialogue correspond to the pose and expression the speaker takes on. Needless to say, that information is not particularly helpful to me.
What I'd really like to do right now is access script-ch0 .rpy's parent directory, which presumably contains the other script files. From those, I can likely figure out whether this is Doki Doki Literature Club, the surprise horror game wherein Monika was a faux-aware character whose actions were a built-in part of the game, or Doki Doki Literature Club, the cutesy dating sim where Monika was a truly aware person who legitimately tore the game apart. The distinction is likely to be extremely important to understanding my situation, and...
Come to think of it, if the former case is true, all that heartache I just put myself through might have been utterly pointless. I'm... not exactly sure how that makes me feel.
I close my eyes and shake my head almost imperceptibly, resolving to think about it some other time.
Regardless, the answer to the question of what "version" of the game this is alone would tell me a great many other things by extension. Unfortunately, given the lack of an actual interface, I have no idea how to do that. There's code, a cursor, and not much else — maybe I'll have better luck going in through the command console?
I switch focus from the code window to the other entity hovering within my awareness, a simple black rectangle with nothing in it but text displaying the current folder path. As I noted before, it's already been pre-navigated to the Doki Doki Literature Club folder, so-
Damn, can you search for things via the command prompt the same way you can in file explorer? I don't think you can... old fashioned way it is then.
Figuring out how to "type" something into the non-physical presence that is the command prompt turns out to be eerily natural, especially given the lack of an actual keyboard, but I certainly can't complain about that. First things first, let's see what's in the base directory.
C:\Program Files (x86)\Doki Doki Literature Club: dir
[DIR] characters
[DIR] DDLC .app
[DIR] game
[DIR] lib
[DIR] renpy
COPYRIGHT .txt
DDLC .exe
DDLC .py
DDLC .sh
log .txt
README .html
traceback .txt
Ugh, I wish I'd looked into the game files more before ending up in here. Then maybe I'd have some clue where to look for the script files. Renpy and game seem like the most likely candidates I suppose, so I'll check those first — although.
My mental gaze flickers to the characters directory. As the folder that the player is all but required to look into at the end of the game, it's the only one I actually know the normal contents of, and given my current situation, I can't help but think that it might not look the way it should right now.
It'll only take me a second to check...
C:\Program Files (x86)\Doki Doki Literature Club: cd characters
C:\Program Files (x86)\Doki Doki Literature Club\characters: dir
flair .chr
natsuki .chr
sayori .chr
yuri .chr
...and yet another seeming impossibility presents itself before me. Aside from that not actually being my name, there is no reason a random new .chr file generated from who-knows-where should be interchangeable with Monika's. Bizarreness like this is quickly becoming the norm however, so I suppose there's no real point in questioning it overly much.
Really, I'm more concerned with figuring out what happened to Monika's .chr file than anything else, as it seems to be amongst the missing. I pretty much expected it not to be in here, but files don't just go wandering into other directories like sheep, so what happened? Was it deleted for some reason? I mean, I guess it could also have been moved elsewhere, or maybe…
Renamed…
The thought brings my mind to a dead stop. I even freeze outwardly, though given that Yuri is currently the one talking it doesn't really matter.
That... makes way too much sense. I have no idea at all how I could have been "placed" in here, so frankly, it's a lot more plausible that I was always here. That, on top of the fact I look like Monika, the script is affecting me as Monika, and the game itself seems to accept my .chr file as Monika's...
Is it possible that... I'm...
My jaw locks together. No. I refuse to believe that. I wouldn't have my own memories otherwise, and even if I've seen some very odd things so far, I feel fairly safe in my doubt that renaming "monika .chr" as "flair .chr" would do anything even remotely close to this, if anything at all. That's way too big a change for an edit that minor.
Unless the contents were altered as well...
The name of my .chr file stands out in my awareness like the fangs of a venomous snake.
I- I can't not check, right? I know I've gotten distracted from what I was trying to do, but I feel as though making sure I am who I actually think I am is kind of important to do before moving on to anything else. Admittedly, I have no idea what the interior of my file is even supposed to look like, or what Monika's looks like for that matter, so I'm not sure how I'd be able to tell if anything points to my being... her, or not, but-
My increasingly apprehensive thoughts are interrupted by a sudden surge of excitement running through me, which manages to abruptly snap me back to "reality". Huh?
"Let's all go home and write a poem of our own!" I'm in the middle of saying. "Then, next time we meet, we'll all share them with each other. That way, everyone is even!"
This is the part where Monika first proposes the poem sharing idea. Why... why do I feel so cheered by this?
Natsuki and Yuri are hesitant, but Sayori lets out a loud "Yeaah! Let's do it!" which seems to convince them. I find myself turning to the MC a moment later.
"Plus, now that we have a new member, I think it will help us all get a little more comfortable with each other, and strengthen the bond of the club. Isn't that right, Elano?"
I smile, my previous worries feeling remarkably distant. I... guess I kind of needed something to pick me up a little, but this... this isn't...
"Hold on...there's still one problem." he replies.
"Eh? What's that?"
"I never said I would join this club!" he cries. "Sayori may have convinced me to stop by, but I never made any decision. I still have other clubs to look at, and...um..."
He trails off, sheepish as he stares at the four of us. Meanwhile, my heart feels as though it just plunged directly into my stomach. Even though I know perfectly well that he's going to join in a few seconds anyways, I can't help but feel genuinely crushed by his declaration.
I... no... stop...
"B-but..." I stutter.
...I'm not her...
The other girls contribute their two cents, seeming equally disappointed. The MC folds all of a few seconds later.
"...right. I've decided, then. I'll join the literature club."
My heartbreak evaporates instantly, replaced by a burst of pure joy.
I hate it utterly.
The girls celebrate for a moment as I welcome Elano to the Literature Club, all the while wanting to yell, to scream at the code to stop feeding me Monika's feelings. Or at least, I feel like I should want to, but I can't, because I'm too happy. It's the most confusing, infuriating thing I've ever felt, my emotions practically at war with each other over the subject.
This- I can't take this. I can't. Please, just let this day end already...
A minute or so later, it does just that. I numbly watch on as I reiterate the instruction to write poems for tomorrow, and Elano and Sayori head out of the room together. The moment the door closes, the world around me begins to dim.
Dully, I wonder where it is I'll end up when the scene finishes fading out. I have no idea if Monika's house exists as more than a theoretical here, or if I'll actually be sent there even if it does. For all I know, I'm about to be consigned to The Void again — I guess I'll find out shortly.
Unlike when I tried to force the scene transition, this time the world smoothly moves away from me, Natsuki, and Yuri with no horrid grinding involved. I watch on unflinchingly as another wave of black sweeps in, enveloping everything.
When the darkness vanishes from my eyes, I find myself sitting in a different room.
One that I am intimately familiar with.