memshare: ?

[rerouter]

You're in a mostly empty classroom, smiling at a blank faced boy while your friends all shuffle off into separate corners to indulge in their favorite book, read manga, or simply... exist. Despite everything you now know, it's an incredibly ordinary moment in your life.

Until it isn't.

And


you're instantly











put to sleep.

... Or, at least, that's what it feels like. You can't move. You can't talk. You can't scream. You're left with nothing but your own, panicked thoughts for a handful of seconds — before your mind begins to fill with incoherent, jumbled patterns.

Static and rapid flashes of color dance across your vision. Closely, in the distance, everywhere yet nowhere at all, something is screaming. A singular something. A plural something. You can't even tell anymore, and maybe it's because you're completely unable to form your own thoughts at this point.

You're endlessly hammered by the flashing and the screaming, with no end in sight. It feels like it goes on forever. And maybe it does. Maybe this is all there is now.

Maybe, you will be stuck in this empty space forever and ever and ever and ever an̶d̶ ̷e̷v̸e̸r̶ ̸a̴n̵͙̖̚ ̴͔̿d̵̤̀e̴̘̮̅̋v̷̺̗̈̓e̵̯͑͂ȑ̵̻͙ä̴̘͔̲̹͇́̽̽̾͠ ̸̣͇̘͙͎͐̓̊n̸̘̪͗̒ḋ̵̮̣̗̽e̶͔͎̘̱͎̋͝r̵̝̞̼͔̀͋̈́̈́̽v̶̛͍̖̟͎̓̀̐̈́̓ẽ̵̠̱̘̘̻̉̾͜r̶̡̥̜͒͂̒̑́̇̇̾ ̴̛̺̤͍̉̽͋̾̀ȧ̷̧̱̜ṅ̶͓̰̼͙̰̮̟͛̀̽̽͐͘͠ͅd̴͔̻̺̪̋͛͘e̸͙͔̅̌͘͝͝ ̴̛͍̹͔͕͖̖̳̠̈́̅̐̉͆v̵̢͇͉́̄́̋̈́͠ĕ̴̢̮͉͙͍͈̉̄͝͝ ̶̡̨̨̤̝̺̤͔̹̮̭́͑̆̔͌͊̉̾̂͂͝r̴͚͕̙̿̈́̓̌̽̎̃̅̈̽͋̈́ ̷̧̻͎̯̆̂̂̌͐͠ä̸̳̝̻̬͚͔́͆͗̓̇̒̍̄̽ñ̶̫̭̓̊̈́̒̀͐̕͜͝d̸̲͛͆̈́͛d̸̯̣̙́d̵̼̙̹͔͉̊̔͆͆̿̐̀͐̄̉̓d̶͍̻̖̝̠̭̅d̵̝̬͐̋̂̐̅̈́͒̐́̀̕ ̶̣̖̲͈̒v̶̨̨̨̛̠̳̳̖̺͇̻̝͉̲̰̮͇͈͊̓̓̈́́̀̏͘̚̚e̸̗̽̐̌̑̔́̈́͊̐͌̚͝͝͠ ̷̺̠͈̮͐̓̃͘ŗ̷̖̬̥̺̮͖̦̮̰̟̽̄̿̏͘͘͘͜ ̶̢͈̩̙̣̭̝̊̌̆͆̐͝͝ā̴̜̱̥̥͛̿̄̎̎̏̾̾̾́̑̾̅̕n̶̡̧̛͉͉͕̻̖̫̰͚̰̿̇̆͌̈́̊̇̿̈́̽̈́̐͂͠d̶̨̙̘̦̘̣̰͇̏ͅd̸̛̯͆̔͋̐͊́̔̀̇́̐̌́̓̕̕d̶̨̝̮͍͂ḓ̶̉͊̂̓̓͘d̸̢̛͈̦̤̘̀̃̐̌̀͒̓͊̾̐̓̕



then you're back in your own body.

Despite the hammering of your heart against your ribcage, the script continues like nothing ever happened.