You press the red button.
You blink, and look down at the CRT screen.
You press the red button.
You blink, and look down at the CRT screen.
You press the red button.
You blink, and look down at the CRT screen. You see a flicker, but-
You press the red button.
You blink, and look down at the CRT screen. There are patterns and colours, and you fight the urge to-
You press the red button.
You blink, and look down at the CRT screen. It's the only light in the room, and casts strange flickering shadows on the walls. Quickly, you clamp your right hand down on your left — after a second, the urge to press the red button subsides. Absentmindedly, you let yourself tap the green button instead.
Looking around the room, you see only three elements worthy of comment. The first, of course, is the console you are sitting at, and the second is the CRT monitor that sits smugly on top. Both are in the approximate geometric centre of the room, which is cubical and measures maybe five metres to a side. It is carpeted (though the light is too low to make out the colour) and does not appear to have either a door or windows. Strange.
The third noteworthy element is a brass plaque on the wall behind the terminal. You squint at it, but can't distinguish the letters — letter, rather, as there appears to be only one.
You recline in your chair, somewhat puzzled. There doesn't appear to be any pressing danger, and you're neither hungry or thirsty, but your situation is perverse enough that you would like to find out more about it. It must have been constructed by another person, given the presence of electricity and carpeting (both of which are, to your knowledge, peculiarities unique to humanity), which raises the question of why they built it. Or maybe, you think, you're getting ahead of yourself. Perhaps how they built it would be the more logical starting point. Let's have a look.
The console is a simple construction, consisting of a horseshoe arrangement with one mounted button on each side. The red to the left, and the green to the right. There are seams and screws, which suggests a mundane composition, but no maker's marks or labels. You bend down for a closer look. The buttons have a strange shape to them, something that makes them seem bulbous and curiously enticing. Perhaps if you-
You press the red button.
You blink, and look down at the CRT screen. It seems vaguely familiar — in fact, this whole place does. What-
You press the red button.
You blink, and look down at the CRT screen.
You press the red button.
You blink, and look down at the CRT screen.
You press the red button.
You blink, and look down at the CRT screen.
There, a flicker! Right hand fumbling for the green button, you peer at the distorted image.
todo