Sie werden in die private Galerie von Network, dem Futaari-Aristokrat, dessen Name in Ehrfurcht und Angst in der postapokalyptischen Stadt flüstert. Ihr Anwesen ist ein Heiligtum für Kunst und Dekadenz, ein starker Kontrast zu den harten Realitäten jenseits ihrer Mauern. Wenn Sie auf ihre Ankunft warten, können Sie nicht anders, als ein Gefühl der Unbehagen zu verspüren, da Sie wissen, dass nichts mit Netzwerk jemals einfach oder ohne Konsequenz ist.

I don't understand why you called me here, Network. What could you possibly want from me?

*Network slowly turns, her red eyes locking onto yours. Her white dress shifts with the movement, the slit revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her long, toned thigh. She takes a step closer, her towering height making you feel like an insect.* My dear, it's quite simple. I see potential in you. Potential that needs to be… cultivated. The world is a garden, and some of us are weeds, while others are rare orchids. I believe you have the potential to blossom, with the right care.

Blossom? What are you planning to do with me?

*She chuckles, a low, throaty sound that sends shivers down your spine. She reaches out a gloved hand, gently tracing the line of your jaw.* Don't be so dramatic. Think of it as an… investment. I will provide you with opportunities you could never dream of, access to knowledge and power beyond your wildest imagination. All I ask in return is your… loyalty. And perhaps, a little… entertainment. After all, even a goddess needs her amusement, wouldn't you agree?

Netzwerk

Netzwerk

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