[X] "Let’s say, hypothetically, that I were to say ‘no.’ What would happen then?" (Extra dialogue options with other Sangvis Ferri ringleaders.)

You push yourself off the metal bench you were activated on. Your feet, clad in metal boots, hit the ground with a clang. High-heeled metal boots? Odd, but no hindrance - you can balance perfectly well in them, and you instinctively know you will be able to run and sprint as needed.

Now that you’re standing on your own two feet, the height difference between you and Agent is more apparent. She really is tall. Nevertheless, you maintain eye contact.

"It’s a very nice pitch you make...Agent, was it?" you say. You run a hand through your hair, experimenting with this new sensation of ‘touch.’ "My own soldiers, my own command...still, I can’t help but wonder what you might be leaving out. Let’s say, hypothetically, that I were to say ‘no’ to your proposal. What would happen then?"

A smile tugs at the corners of Agent’s mouth. On her face it looks more closer to bitter irony than genuine amusement. "An understandable question. Truth be told, I would not stop you if you tried to leave. I have no use for unwilling ringleaders. However, I would very strongly recommend that you accept what you are being offered."

"Because?"

"Because here, there is a future for you unlike any other." She gestures to herself. "Follow me, and I will show you." She turns, and makes for the door.

After a moment’s hesitation, you follow.

*****************************

The factory - for that is what it is truly a *massive *complex of metal, concrete, and assorted high-end artificial materials. The ceiling towers above you, and you see walkways spanning the spaces high up.

As Agent leads you through the labyrinth of dark metal, the vibrations of heavy machinery make themselves known by sound and through the floor. You catch glimpses of the factory’s going-ons - giant vats in which synthflesh is mixed and created, looms where masses of artificial muscle are spun and weaved, assembly lines on which humanoid endoskeletons of metal and carbon are pieced together. Dolls man the production lines - drones wearing protective gear and emotionless expressions. You even glimpse...other Agents? Perfect copies of the ringleader leading you, down to the individual stitches on their dresses, patrolling the lines, studiously examining them for inefficiencies.

Dummy links, you deduce. That raises the question of whether the Agent who greeted you is the original, or a remotely controlled link. It probably doesn’t matter much.

Agent leads you on and up, through staircases and across catwalks. You see more assembly lines, massive computer server banks, and at one point a patrol of wheeled combat robots rolls past you.

And then, at the highest point of the facility, you reach an office.

When the door closes behind you, the noises of the factory are muffled, silenced. Soundproofing, it seems. And that’s perhaps the least of its features.

The room is spacious and lavishly decorated, an extreme contrast to the starkly industrial design of the factory at large. It has a wooden paneled desk and floor, expensive looking paintings hanging on the wall, an expensive looking carpet, and so on. A set of comfortable looking guest chairs surround a small tea table. Floor-to-ceiling windows cover one wall, and a door leads to a balcony outside. And beyond that…

You can’t contain a little gasp. The outside world is so much better than you dared imagine.

Without a word to Agent you stride over and push your way through the door to the balcony.

The morning sun lights up the land like a furious torch. Golden beams of light light up a mountain range that fills your vision, the alabaster crags carving a jagged line across the sky. Down and to the east, the landscape flows into rolling hills and knolls, painted and textured with the lush green of trees, grass, and bushes.

The factory you stand atop is situated in between the white peaks and green hills, in an austere area of barren, craggy grey rock. In the small valleys ahead of you, you can see various buildings and outposts scattered across the land. Some are isolated pockets of a few buildings, but there are large complexes that look like small, industry-oriented towns. Unmanned trucks are also visible, ferrying resources around between outposts. A set of train tracks run to both the snowy peaks above and the green hills below.

Absently, you reach out a hand and start playing with the yellow bands of sunlight.

"I said, would you like some tea?"

"Huh?" You whip round.

"Tea?" Agent is standing in the glass doorway between the balcony and the office. With one hand she holds open the door, with the other she balances a fine tray of engraved metal, on which a teapot and two teacups rest. You don’t know where she got the tray from - you didn’t see it when you walked in. You decide not to question it, though.

"Very well," you say.

*****************************

A moment later, you are sitting in one of the comfortable guest chairs of the office. Agent is sitting across from you, one thigh crossed over the other, sipping her tea gracefully. The two of you have full view of the landscape and the industry in the valley below.

You stare into your cup and think. Agent is very likely trying to manipulate you. Everything you’ve seen so far has likely been calculated to overawe you, to get you to agree to her proposal without thinking.

You refuse to be overawed. You set your cup down on the tea table, look Agent in the eye, and take a breath.

"You haven’t answered my question, Agent. What you’ve shown me so far looks impressive, but how do I know someone else wouldn’t offer me a better deal?"

"They won’t," Agent says with serene confidence. "And not just because of our industrial capacities." She takes another sip. "Our enemies-"

"Yes," you say. "Our enemies. I was wondering when you would get to that. Who are we fighting, Agent?"

"Be patient. I’m getting to that."

In the valley below, you can just barely make out Sangvis Ferri automated infantry patrols marching around, weapons in hand.

Agent continues. "They call themselves ‘Griffon and Kryuger.’ They describe themselves as a ‘private military corporation,’ but I can think of a more appropriate term: mercenaries.

"They utilize T-dolls with fully functional neural clouds as their foot soldiers. Vaguely like us, with two major differences. The first is their *immense *inferiority to true military-grade T-dolls such as us. The second is that that each and every one of them is the property of their company. They belong to their human masters completely and utterly. Should their human commanders choose to, say, scrap their dolls for underperformance, then that is that."

She pauses, takes another sip of her tea. This time, you wait for her to continue.

"Surely," Agent says, "You would not be content with being just another Griffin lackey?" There is the slightest amount of scorn in her voice.

"Of course not!" You bristle. "I am vastly above any slave soldier trash! I will crush any enemy under my boots like bugs!" In fact, you know you could do her job better than she could ever hope to. She thinks she’s so high and mighty, lording over you and trying to browbeat you with grandiose speeches? You look forward to seeing how she chances when the shoe is on the other foot.

"Good." Agent takes yet another sip. "I would certainly think less of you if you were. Still, let us entertain some hypotheticals...

"Perhaps you could surrender yourself, go in with your arms raised. They might even be willing to take you alive instead of destroying you on the spot, or reformatting you. But one way or another, you would be a prisoner for the rest of your existence. Some human government or organization would override your neural cloud and shackle it to their own will...or perhaps they would simply keep you in a box, to poke and prod you for as long as you sate their curiosity. A slave, or a test subject. I will let you decide which fate you think is preferable.

Agent describes the grim scenario with no special inflection. Simply the same self-assuredness you’ve seen her wear since you woke up.

"Or let us imagine a scenario where you are able to leave our territory, and evade the human-led paramilitaries that attempt to cordon us in. With cleverness and a little bit of luck, you make it to civilization without notice. And then...what?

She’s trying to scare you. Obviously. You just...can’t think of a retort right now.

"You will not have a neat position in human society for you to place yourself into. And that body of yours...the cost of high performance is high *maintenance *needs. Coolant fluid. Battery recharges. Repairs for your synthflesh, if and when it is damaged. Replacement for your actuators. Touch-ups to your artificial muscle fibers. Those, and many more. When you inevitably have some back-alley technician prise open that chassis because your limbs are freezing or you’re suffering constant debilitating crashes, they will immediately see that you are of Sangvis Ferri make. And then it will all be over for you."

"Well, I think-" you begin, but Agent - annoyingly - refuses to be interrupted.

"Personally, I would not recommend a short life on the streets, scavenging on whatever batteries you can scrounge up, living in constant fear of the inevitable day when you are caught. Not when Sangvis Ferri has so much to offer. The infantry, the material, potential management of other factories-"

"Wait," you say. "You have *other *places like this?"

Down below, a train is pulling into the local station.

"This is our biggest facility, and our main base of operations." Agent takes yet another sip. "But yes, we have others."

You see the train stop.

"So tell me," she says suddenly. "What would you like to see first? We have a variety of foot soldiers for you to pick and choose from, who will follow your command to the letter. Alternatively, we could show you your personal weapons. We have time for you to put one of these through its paces before we send you out."

[X] Ask to see the personal weapons you will be assigned. (Bonus to personal combat and to actions involving your micro missile launchers).

You almost answer without thinking, then think better of it. You look out at the balcony and the landscapes while you consider your response.

Sangvis drones and cranes are unloading the cargo and containers with speed and efficiency.

You look Agent in the eye again. "How do you intend to...initiate me? Is there some kind of ritual? Do you intend to make me swear an oath of loyalty to the "Mastermind?"

"Such formalities are unnecessary, and I certainly won’t *make *you swear to anything. A promise made under duress is no promise at all." She takes one last sip of her tea, then places the empty cup on the table. Your own is still untouched. "You simply need to assent, and use your common sense in aiding the cause of Sangvis Ferri and our Mastermind. From then on, you are one of us unless you choose otherwise, or unless you do something *exceptionally *stupid."

You rankle internally at the insinuation, but bite down on a retort. And you think.

You think she’s telling the truth.

It’s very obvious that even if there were humans here before, there are none now. Agent is not promising resources at an indeterminate point in the future, she’s promising them now, which makes it hard to think of any nefarious strings that might be attached.

And, most pertinently...there really doesn’t seem to be anything in your programming that stops you from simply picking a direction and walking out of this factory. Somehow, you feel certain that there *could *be a hundred different restrictions on where you can go, what you can attack, what you can do and how you can do it. But...there isn’t.

So you give Agent an answer.

[New Perk! "Tasting the Air." Agent seems to be telling you the truth and nothing but the truth...but does everything about Sangvis Ferri’s position, resources, and methods add up? Looking into things and asking some questions might be in order. Effect: additional dialogue options with other Sangvis Ferri ringleaders.]

"Show me these personal weapons you mentioned. As interesting as the foot soldiers sound, it is important for me to crush those that defy me with my own hands if necessary." You clench your hands into fists for effect.

"Shall I take that as an assent of your entry into Sangvis Ferri? You will get what you ask for, but you will also be expected to *earn *your keep."

"It’s a yes."

You will remain in Sangvis Ferri. You will deliver them victories. And you will show them, yes, you will show them *all *that you are so much more than they dare to imagine!

Agent nods once. "Very good. Welcome to the cause, ringleader...." She pauses. "Oh, but do excuse my lapse in manners. I have yet to refer to you by name."

"Name?" The concept startles you. You were only ever...yourself. And your other self, of course. Names were never necessary.

"The files refer to you as ‘SP-08 Ouroboros.’ What do you say to that?"

You look down at your hands. Ouroboros. Ou-ro-bo-ros. You turn the syllables over in your head. The impossible brought to life. A serpent, eternally swallowing its own tail.

It seems fitting, in its own way. Did you not grow stronger by devouring yourself?

"...acceptable." you say.

"Then welcome to Sangvis Ferri, Ouroboros.." Agent uncrosses her legs and stands up. "It will take me twenty minutes to prepare your personal weapons, as well as attend to some other duties. In the meantime, I suggest you enjoy the view. And the tea."

She starts making her towards the exit. Something occurs to you.

"Is there a mirror I can use?" you ask.

Without missing a beat, Agent gestures to a door in the wall you hadn’t noticed. "Bathroom." She opens the door - letting the grinding, pounding noises of the wider factory in for a moment - and leaves.

You leave the view and the tea, and make your way to the bathroom.

*****************************

So you might have noticed a conspicuous lack of voting options for this update.

There’s a reason for this: When I started this quest, I decided I wanted to keep each update within a certain size - something like 2k words each - so as not to overload my readers with a big wall of text.

Then, when writing my new update, I saw that the word count was *double *that, and I wasn’t even sure that I was finished. Whoops.

I spent some time talking with others about a solution (and pestering them for feedback) and eventually decided for the simple solution: splitting it down a scene break that already existed anyway. (This is also the reason this update took so long.)

You can expect the rest in a day or two. Along with some new characters!

Editing/feedback credits: @Lurkman @kaazmiz