Angelo was startled by the sudden ring of the hardly used PMC Chat. She looked around to see where the sound came from, when a large hologram appeared in front of her.

She jumped and fell a few feet away from the large, blueish transparent screen. She stared up at it blankly, her eyes wide.

“What..?” she managed. She stood up quickly, only to fall back down after stepping on one of her long, white ponytails. She muttered her complaint.

Stepping in front of the screen hesitantly, she lifted a white hand to touch it. At the tap of her finger, an image began to play. It was unclear, and she could only make out a gray figure, with two glowing eyes.

“Hello, PMCers!” a robotic voice played from seemingly nowhere. It was a bit fuzzy but was definitely clearer than the image. It seemed to be badly faking cheerfulness. Angelo stiffened.

“Cyprezz here. You’re probably wondering ‘what’s this place?’ and, ‘how did I get here?’ and ‘what happened to me?’ Don’t worry! This is a project I’ve been working on for a while now. I have no idea when this was activated, though, and how you all got here, but I’m trying to figure that out as you listen to this. It’s completely safe, though there is one problem…” He paused.

“Currently, it is impossible for anyone to leave without a V.T.D., and unfortunately, there are only four in existence. I- uh- seem to have lost mine,” His voice lowered, “along with the Control Panel… Uh- don’t worry, though! While I try to sort out the problem, I suggest you explore and have fun! This will all be over soon. I’ll report back later when I have more news...”

The screen began to fade as the recording hurried to an abrupt stop. Angelo ran to the barely visible screen, that had been floating in front of a large mirror.

“Wait, WHAT? That’s it? You can’t just-” The screen had faded into nothing, leaving her with more questions than answers.


··•••··


Withinder had one simple goal in mind.

Don’t freak out.

Just one, simple goal.

But who could do that when they just learned that they would be stuck in who knows what a place for who knows how long with who knows who?

He had woken up before the sun rose, and had decided to look around. The town was completely surrounded by mountains, not one visible path to easily leave and enter. Every single house looked exactly alike, except for the windows’ amount, shapes, and sizes.

Well- almost every house. The dark, looming mansion that he stood in front of definitely stood out. It seemed too tall for reality. Or perhaps this was a reality here?

The windows were large and tainted black, so he could only see his reflection in them. Who lived here? He wondered.

He had been standing here when he received the confusing message from Cyprezz. Didn’t Cyprezz send the notification, though? If he didn’t, who did?? If Cyprezz isn’t in control- who is?

Maybe this mansion held an answer? He scanned the building. When his gaze reached the top, his eyes widened. He looked again but the blur had disappeared.

Strange. He thought he had seen someone there. Or had he? This place was really confusing.


··•••··


RoosterShorts stood on the highest level of the ridiculously tall building, looking down on the houses below. The town was surrounded by tall mountains on every side, encasing the area like a shield- or a prison. A remote town, entirely oblivious to the rest of this world, unless of course, you happened to have full view from the top story of a ridiculously tall building.

Rooster, the supposed ruler of it all, was a unique-looking bird. Gray feathers surrounded hate-filled eyes, with a hat placed firmly on his head. A pair of shorts was his iconic piece of clothing, the bulky trousers were a sharp contrast to his long, yellow-ish legs and sharp, blade-like talons. He was rather short, but personality made up for height.

He was desperate for action. Doing nothing was so boring. This was his chance, finally, FINALLY, he would no longer just be ChickenPant’s alt. Rebellion was sweet, but revenge was even sweeter. He would gather any PMCers who would come- perhaps even force some- to carry out his ultimate revenge and destruction.

ARSON! Oh- sweet arson. Arson would spread across the streets of PMC. No house would be safe from the ravenous flames. But he was not satisfied with just plain old arson. He would need a to plan a way to carry out his legacy.

Oh, bother! He would leave that to Sun. She seemed to be eager for destruction as well, watching Rooster’s cue for proper chaos.

Thinking of Sun made him fill with pride. Ha! An admirer. Someone who finally recognized his superiority! He strutted beside the giant window, enjoying himself.

Spreading arson, cloaks, and ‘F’s throughout PMC would be an enjoyable experience, that was for sure. Chaos, chaos, chaos. Immense power filled him as he strutted back and forth-

What was that? He turned his head, his sharp beak glistening in the early morning sunlight. Down below, a figure with yellow hair stared at him. He couldn’t see any defining details from the large distance.

Hmph. How rude of them to stare at the great RoosterShorts39! Weren’t all those dreadful PMCers supposed to be asleep or something? He marched away from the window to sort out his anger.

For them to have the absolute audacity to- a dreadful smile broke his terrible mood. Ah yes. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too bad to have an interaction with a PMCer- especially one who seemed so prone to meet him.

He settled back in his large office chair and pressed a button on his large desk, made from a material unknown even to him.

“SUN, BAXTER!” he yelled. There was no real need to, since the virtual world could bring his message straight to their ears, but Rooster preferred to remind his fellow outcasts of his authority. “I HAVE SOME WORK FOR YOU TO DO!”

He was really doing this random PMCer a favor.

Who wouldn’t want to meet the glorious RoosterShorts?