Hang on, I’m changing trains…
…I have now changed trains.
and then accuses you of lying, regardless (I think) of your answer.
Not all that alone, then.
This is quite a populous prison cell, actually.
“The sky is dead,” reads some accompanying text.
“The gods are dead.
The gods are merciful.
All the city can do is weep.”
Still, it’s easier on the eyes and ears than Finchley Road.
The game’s branching dialogue choices make mention of old wars and bloodshed.
Perhaps you are an imprisoned dictator of some kind.
Not a feelgood game, in short.
Also not a game you might enjoy if you dislike unfiltered literary thought experiments.
“What’s in a name?”
asks the rat thing.
We pass through Kings Cross.
Yet more children get on.
Three of them attempt to sit on the same chair, stacking themselves like Goombas.
They’re speaking French.
Probably they’re on an exchange visit?
Do they read English?
Are they reading these very words as I key in them?
Ou est la cle de la prison?
A hush settles upon the Gallic throng as they catch sight of the above screenshot of the talking rat-thing.
Here you go, how about this shot of a smiling chatbot.
Pretty sure that’s PG-13 or below.
To reword the quote above: “The sky is dead.
The gods are dead.
Oh hell, I’ve missed my stop”.
