With that, the final brushstrokes to our story have been completed here in Chiaroscuro. Thank you to everyone who has engaged with the game either here, in the server itself, or on Twitter!
In the next few days, we’ll probably be providing a lore + game summary to post here, since we know it’s probably difficult to keep up from just a few snippets here and there. There may be a few server-related updates as well, though we will be polling our players before making anything official.
As of now, there are no concrete plans for a sequel game, though Sarah and I both have plans to pursue other projects in the future. Stay tuned!
As the boat begins to turn, you all cast one final glance towards the structure glowing in the distance, and the people who have emerged to stand in front of it—the ones who had caused you so much pain and heartache all for the sake of their ‘test’—watching as their world crumbles before them.
And then you’re off, the boat’s motor and propeller humming loudly as it takes off into the night. A spray of water crashes over the side of the boat, the island’s choppy waters sending you a final farewell.
The list of Rapporto Aureo members would indeed be released to the public, leaked onto the Web by a series of unknown seeders who would download it to nearly every computer with an Internet connection. Society would quickly plummet into chaos as outcries of global conspiracy and foreign collusion rippled throughout the governments of numerous countries as RA’s affiliates and deeds were brought to light. Riots would break out, leaders would be overturned, and reputations would be tarnished across a number of fields.
Perhaps some of you would wonder if you had made the right choice.
In the end, Kai Zhou, Georgianne Taylor, Asuka Aomi, and Jin Nishigami, known globally as conspirators with the group known as Rapporto Aureo whom had hosted the massacre at Castello di Chiaroscuro, would never be found. By the time authorities would arrive at the rocky island of Pentimento, the entirety of the museum would be burned to its foundation and the flames spread throughout the grounds. A thorough search of the island would turn up nothing beyond the remains of the deceased students, which would be returned to their respective families or relatives.
After making sure the surviving students were returned back to the mainland safely and were being taken care of by their own trusted contacts, Jiyeong Kim, Amora Dominguez, and Mai Saito would eventually turn themselves in to the international police for their own involvement with the inner workings of RA and the events at Chiaroscuro. Instead of allowing themselves to merely rot behind bars, however, they would begin to use their connections to work with authorities to make amends, attempting to aid those who aimed to rebuild in the aftermath of what the fallout would bring.
… But all of that would be in the future. For the seven surviving students, sailing away from the burning island as the stars twinkled above them, they wouldn’t know what their future would hold, at that time. Certainly, things probably wouldn’t be easy, but were they ever? The imperfect beauty of humanity was what you’d fought for, after all, compared to the perfection that had been sought by the ones who cited the golden ratio. You’d been given the power to paint your own future, rather than follow someone else’s linework.
CHAPTER 6 TRIAL MEDIA - The Burning of Chiaroscuro
7 votes to release the list of Rapporto Aureo members.
0 votes to release the video of Rapporto Aureo goals.
The survivors had rejected the goals of Rapporto Aureo, and had instead turned their backs on the organization and exposed them to the public eye with no remorse. In an instant, it seemed that all of their goals and dreams had turned to dust between the digilante’s hands.
And Miao was livid.
“You motherfuckers! Are you fucking crazy? Do you even know what you’ve fucking done? This was our chance! Your chance! To change the fucking world that let a game like this happen in the first place! And you’re just going to let it stay like that because “uwu humans have flaws!!!!!” Fuck. Off!”
“You think you’re so high and mighty? That you’re some kind of fucking saviors, saving the world from an evil secret society! Well, guess what! Your actions mean nothing! If anything, you’re the fucking villains now! Villains who need to own up for their fucking actions. And if we’re going down…”
She stretches out her arms.
“You’re fucking coming with us!”
A hand is raised. A button is pressed.
“Die like the sacrificial lambs you are! Face your punishment! Your justice! Burn!”
If the world was going to burn anyway, she might as well be the one to set it ablaze.
Jin steeples his hands, taking a deep breath. He doesn’t seem bothered by any of the fury - like he knew this was coming.
“Please - just let me explain.” That little smile again. “Okay? I promise there’s an explanation. It’s going to be okay.”
“...This was the only way to make people listen.”
He clutches his chest, and although his expression doesn’t change, there’s a serious undertone to his voice.
“Nobody cares. Everyone looks around and thinks that - that everything is fine, just because something doesn’t affect them, or because they just don’t want to. There’s this whole mindset!” He spreads his hands again. “And in the end - it becomes easier to let things stay in the same horrible way! It’s so easy to just sit by and do nothing, because change is hard. And then those who fall into it, who make things even worse, they get rewarded for it! Think about - politicians, CEOs, everyone who cheats their way through everything and just ignores the harm they cause! And people just - let them! They pretend that it’s just the way things are. And then for those who try to change things, to make things better - they’re swimming against the tide. Even with the RA’s help, it’s been an uphill battle. I only just joined, and I can already see it!”
He takes a deep breath, calming down his rising tone of voice.
“It’s time for things to change.” He gives a bright smile. “We’re not staying in the shadows anymore. All of us - we can go out there and take action!”
“And now - now we have proof that people need us!”
Proof. The video is still at the forefront of your minds - the display of “truth”.
“They’ll listen! They’ll actually listen! There’s no more hiding in falsified ignorance anymore! It’s a new era!”
Tears began falling from the digilante’s eyes, a result of her near-hysterical laughter. She clutched her sides as they ached. She continues laughing for a minute, two, before she finally quiets down, wiping the water from her eyes as a grin comes to her face.
“Really, I’m not your enemy. We’re not your enemies. We’re just the people doing the job that no one else wants to fucking do. But it’s fucking necessary. Rapporto Aureo is necessary. I’m sure you’ve seen it plenty of times, but I’ll break it down again for you.”
“The current world? Current society? It’s fucked up. People are flawed and nobody’s perfect and all that shit, I get that, but there’s so much shit that happens that you can’t chalk up to just a fucking “flaw”. Crime, corruption, discrimination, murder... These problems aren’t just mistakes. And nobody does a goddamn thing about them. The government? Fuck the government. You were here for 5. Months. They knew where you were. But did they actually come to rescue you? Hell. Fucking. No. You may have gotten a message, but that’s it. The law officials weren’t even allowed to fucking act. The government, no matter where, isn’t on your fucking side.”
“So our goal in Rapporto Aureo? To put it simply… we’re going to fix the world.”
...
“Whoops! I think I’m getting a bit ahead of myself! I mean, you haven’t fucking figured everything out. You haven’t even found the Initiator! Y’know, the one who killed Vasilakis-san. The one who’s really running this game. Oh, yeah, didn’t mention that. Wasn’t me! I’m just the observer. My job’s just to make sure that person does their fucking job right. Evaluate them.”
In a lull of commotion during the trial, you all hear noise between the gaps of silence. It seems to be a pair of voices — but they don't come from any of you.
"Ow — there is really no need to pull so hard! I can— I can walk on my own!"
"Shaddup and get your ass over —"
The area around the statue rattles slightly, then slams. Reasonable frustration arises from the fact the trial room is locked up tight.
"God dammit. Fucking — locked and shit, you've got to be —"
The sound of something heavy scrapes across the floor outside. A grunt, and then a slam, and another, and another and another until someone smashes straight through the wall. Debris and dust cloud the area, and... from it emerges Kai, who gets thrown through it by the hair.
Following him comes a familiar head of purple fire, kicking a rock out of her path.
"Damn! Locking the doors now, huh? You assholes seriously still think you can stop me? Hell no. Square up, you over-stuffed cow! I'm ending this here and now!"
The colorful sheep does a few aggressive little twirls away from the grasp of anyone before pausing for a moment and opening their mouth. Despite that, they (mercifully) stay silent for a long few beats longer. Suddenly… Something begins to play.
“Y’ain’t taking anyone else from us. After this, you’re gonna pay.”
“If there's- If there's one promise I can make now... I- I'm not going to let this place define me. Even if I don't g-get out of here, it's- it's not going to take who I am a-away from me.”
“Can’t you see it? You’ve changed. You’re stronger now, and you want things to be better. Isn’t that the most impowtant thing in the wowld?”
“I— when I, I told him that. T-that we’re f-friends I, I— I didn’t mean to— I— “ ...how did Xiaoyu, Emily, and Shiyun perform with such skill when all they crave is to cry, huddled in someone’s arms? Just like how everyone had gathered to Cecilia?
"I, I di-didn’t think h-he'd d-do this...”
"...I’m sorry, Fuuri,” [Ephraim says.] "-you deserved better than this.”
And for the final time, they reply with an answer you’re all too familiar with.
”I– I know,” they titter, sheepish, “I, I know I did.”
-
art: shai
writing: shai
Seconds before Agnes jeers another baa out, Fuuri pries themself away from the crowd. The ground underneath grumbling for its prey before their tile sinks down and all you’re left is the haphazard sound of ceramic screeching against the panel.
As usual, the paintings that surround you blink rapidly, imagery turning into alive static.
Fuuri Kurifu
Criss-cross Tour, 2029
Paintings, Blood, Pencil on Tile
A pillar they sit on lowers to an empty museum, more modern to the one you know of. In touch with the era’s present time, it’s rather...simple. Monotonous, aside from the killer who stands out like a sore thumb in an unpopulated environment, with flooring you’d only see in the back of your local newspapers or logic puzzles. Black and white. Each one lacks content but Fuuri quickly takes notice of how they themself are starting from a blocked square, indicating that the opposite might be a land mine.
The sheep sure knows how to play with their head, seeing as how there’s nothing else for them to do – no time limits or an unstoppable force to fight, Fuuri gets up, legs trembling despite their brave front. They hover from the ground beneath, golden gaze darting between four walls, hopscotching past white tiles and onto black, shortly frowning at what they’re facing.
SONICATION SAMPLE LX18: Death of the Goddess, 2029
Pride Cometh Before the Fall: Of Icarus, 2029
THE REVERSE TURING TEST, 2029
Quest for Legitimacy, 2029
Past depictions of your deceased classmates are rowed up like a cruel scoff of their own fate.
At first glance, you’d think there’s nothing wrong— nothing. Just an exhibit held for the sheep’s sick amusement but it’s not the paintings that have stolen their study— no. Rather it’s the nameplates. Text adorned by code you’ve never seen before and while it’s no brainer to presume they’re descriptions of the images above, the puzzle solver pieces it together quite fast, connecting where and what to do once they examine them closer, prying digits and loose plaques. It’s just the matter of decrypting them but amidst no knapsack or tools to traject their records, Fuuri’s left on their own devices. However, no problems arise in silence when the prodigy parts their lips, letters forming into syllables. Knowing them, it’s no mean feat. Otherwise, they would’ve never wound up here.
Piece by piece, the text begins to make sense to both them and you. So much so they would’ve had an easier time calculating probabilities than working on the code itself but as they always say; you can’t be too careful. Each description contains the past palettes, the scenery that painted over your long gone peers’ lives. Blue, yellow, grey and red... memorable cinemas.
They slate the mismatched plates to their owners and what follows afterward is a sudden click from behind. Fuuri barely manages to turn around and look but by then it’s too late.
In comes a large pencil that rams through their insides— tearing out tendon and muscle. Wood fills and pencil lead sticks out of their stomach.
Everything is screaming at them in torment, between their broken sobs and sharp wheezes, they cough and sputter taste of iron. Yet there are no words. They aren’t even sure if they can— but by pure chance or a calculated move, they’re not allowed to dwell on it too long, stomach first on the floor which almost pushes the foreign object out of their frail frame. Almost. Blood pouring and moving over their hand, thick fluid no warmer or cooler than their own skin.
Left on the ground, the blockage remains, monochrome work ruined by their paint. Agony keeps them awake and at this rate, they know that if something isn’t done, there isn’t going to be a quick remedy for it. However, as Fuuri painstakingly lifts their head up — they’re reminded by the empty crosswords that haven’t touched.
Maybe— maybe If they reach those, surely relief would befall on them.
The pain throbs in their guts and whilst it barely wanes, they can still move. Gradually, they strive to stand but realize how futile it is when a lip is bitten to keep themself from crying out. Therefore, they hold still and breathe, breathe slow and deep, every ounce of them ignoring the fiery bursts pulsating around the wound, intensifying in volume as soaked graphite begins to screech against the floor, jarring and brutal. They’re dragging their body to the nearest cruci, nerves amplifying, bloody muscle quivering, and their consciousness ebbs. Black mists swirls at the edges of their mind drawing them into what they pray is sweet oblivion.
However, nothing happens.
They were just overthinking— always overthinking.
And the heartache of it all has come too much to bear.
Any hope for a swift death drains out from their features. Perhaps they knew that escape is impossible but now they can’t even fade quickly like everything they once had— like everything that ever spoke a word with them— like everything that had hope for them—
— and they’ve failed to fill.
Crimson leaves paling flesh, their pulses growing meeker, weaker and their facade breaks as the hurt chains them by their limbs. Even when everyone’s gazes, their words, their thoughts, and opinions are still on them, they can no longer keep up their front, sight merely blurring and dulling as they bleed out at a tortuously slow pace. Their tears spill from shut eyes, drips down to concoction of anguish and blood.
It’s as painful to be seen as it is to see for time itself has become irrelevant; seconds merging into hours or hours into mere minutes, their last moments are spent on writhing as fluid leaves their arteries where it belongs in lulls— beat out by a slowing heart until the color of their skin ashen and Fuuri Kurifu is no more.
"I can't be alone! I can't be alone in life! I can't! I don't want that! I want you both to be alive! With me! Not payin' for my dumbass mistake! I... I... S... SHIT! I killed 'im! I did it! I killed Nakamoto-san! End the damn trial-- it was me! It was me-- I'm-- I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'M SORRRYYYYYYY!!!!!!!" [Cecilia cries.]
CHAPTER 5 EVENT DEATH - Kaishu Yarinaosu & Celine Lemieux
10/20 students remaining
6/9 staff members remaining
Amora says nothing in return, merely bringing a shaking hand up as she points down below. As you follow the registrar’s gaze down the side of the cliff, the sight that awaits you is indeed one that could be summed up as ‘bad news.’ A trail of blood streaks the side of the cliff, ending in an unfortunate, muddied heap as choppy, rough waters break over the side of the section of rocks.
As you attempt to scale your way down the cliffside in a feeble attempt to rescue the two, you soon realize just how hopeless the endeavor seems. The rocks are slick from the constant spray of water, the sharp edges threatening to catch you by the ankle and take you down with them. To cross the expanse between yourself and the rock where Kaishu and Celine lay is... impossible. Even if that weren’t enough to stop you from trying, something else occurs which prevents you from reaching one of your own.
A large wave slams into the side of the rocks, knocking Kaishu from the edge of the rock her limp form had previously been draped across. Her body sinks into the water, quickly getting caught in one of the currents that surround the island.
… And before you can get to her, she’s gone.
-
sketch + lines: moa
color: vina
"It was... already a miracle I got to meet you all. I wanted to protect that miracle. Even if it did mean becoming a bad guy."
-
art: prim
writing: prim
There's nothing left to say so he offers one last smile of true sincerity before he disappears from view, like so many before him. Even if you prepare your mind, however, the gesture is still sudden and his eye still widens in some shock as the darkness takes him away.
Shiyun Su
Quest for Legitimacy, 2029
Blade, Fire, Order, Blood Before the Throne
Ornate chandeliers overhead light his new surroundings, grand and opulent, perhaps even more so than the museum. Crimson carpets sprawled onto marble and stone floors, pillars ascending so high one could swear they touch the heavens, not just the beautifully-fashioned ceiling. In front of him are large wooden double doors, to the right, a winding path... to the left, much of the same. As he takes a cautious step forward, something crackles and a speaker seems to come to life. Clear words spoken calmly can be heard.
"The people have decreed the prince takes the central path."
A bright orange light to the right catches his notice. Just as soon as those words are spoken, greedy sparks consume the corridor. As he glances to the left, flames begin to devour that side as well leaving only one path open. The central path. If he dawdles here, he'll just be swallowed up by the flames, too. Even if his heart feels heavy, there's only one option and it's to do as he's told. He sprints up to the doors and moves to push them open but they remain closed. Thud! He smashes against them, first with open hands and then with a shoulder. Warmth surrounds him. Closer now, closer. One more effort and the doors crash open to another long narrow corridor, the stone walls decorated with paintings watching every move. As Shiyun moves into the next room, the speakers crackle again.
"The people have decreed the prince not run indoors."
If he doesn't run, the fire's going to catch up to him. He starts slowly, jogging along before working into a sprint. The fire behind him masks the sound of something moving amongst the walls. The sudden pain in his legs hits him before the realization does as sharpened spears and arrows are rocketed through small narrow holes in the walls between rocks.
Like before, with his legs damaged, it doesn't seem like he has much of a choice but to abide by the 'people's' words. His pace is considerably slower, going on and on, down this corridor that doesn't seem to end, blood trailing behind him and falling mercilessly down his weakened legs. Even if it's been foretold he's going to die, he's not going to give up. That's what everyone had taught him. Even if he knew it was impossible. Even if he knew there was no escape.
Finally, in the distance two more doors are visible. He quickens his pace and barrels into the doors just in time to avoid a fresh barrage of arrows, these doors opening much easier. But the flames are still there. With every moment, they catch up to him, just like his destiny.
The room is much smaller than the rooms prior but still grand in design. Perhaps it's the grandest one yet, with suits of armour decorating the place, a small set of crimson-carpeted stairs leading up to a matching throne. As his gaze moves, it goes up to where something above the throne is glinting ever so slightly. That's when he hears it.
"The people have decreed the prince should sit on the throne."
Shiyun stares at it, frozen. Was this some sort of joke? His vision might not be good but there's clearly something above that chair. The second he sits on it, that blade is going to come down on him. He'd have to have a literal death wish to sit here. And he's tired of it. Tired of doing what people expect. Tired of being the prince, the emperor, the hope of the nation, the blight of the nation. He's tired of all of it. Shiyun takes a step back. Even the fire seems more appealing now. The voice rings out once more, this time the tone harsher.
"The people demand the prince sit on the throne."
He takes another step back, his eyes not leaving the throne. The heat that's chased him to this point has curled and crackled into this room too, lighting it with a furious orange glow. As it continues to spread, greedily eating away at the carpets and tapestries the doors thunder shut.
When the voice speaks up for the last time, it speaks with stark disappointment.
"The people have decreed the prince is not worthy of the crown."
The clink of weapons nearby distract him from the arguably more pressing inferno that's engulfing the room. The suits of armour shift and begin to move, spears and swords drawn and as he backs away, he becomes infinitely more aware of how hopeless this situation is. He turns to find an exit, twists his head to look around and as he does, the blue flower clip on his pendant gets snagged on something and skitters to the ground where the suits of armour continue their slow, methodical approach. Between the metal footsteps and fire, there's no doubt it's going to get crushed. And... for as pointless a gift it is, it's something he can't let get hurt. Without even thinking, he rushes to the ground to pick it up. What a stupid decision. Indeed, what follows is something he arguably deserves. The phantom knights raise their weapons and within seconds those same weapons come crashing down onto his body. Even if he moved, where would he go? He risked dropping the clip again. He can at least protect this. Proof of a promise made. Proof that he was cared for.
The swords continue their work, cutting through him, over and over again. Maybe the throne would've been a quicker death. Maybe it would've been easier. But he refused that 'way out'. As his vision begins to dim, his surroundings becoming a blur, his hand keeps clamped onto the flower clip, red swimming onto its blue surface. Pain, pain all over. It's enough. His mind becomes foggy and after a life of suffering, a punishment full of torment, his eye finally shuts for the last time.
The bright flames begin to fade as the world darkens. Before it's all over, one last thing can be heard from the speaker.
"...No. I don't care what you tell the others. I don't give a shit what happens after this. I just..." What point was there in avoiding this simple fact any further? The deal was made. His wish for resolve was about to be granted. "...I just want to be done with all this. I'm so tired of all this."
-
CHAPTER 4 INJURY EVENT - Yuko Kuwashima
13/20 students remaining
“In a situation like this, where there's no right answer and everything could go up in smoke at any moment-"
"-Then I'm going to be the one who decides how my life ends, and it'll end knowing that there's only so much time left for your game now that we've gotten word out."
The commotion seems to grab Ji-yeong’s attention. That’s not quite the reaction he’d expected for his little project! Did everyone really hate it that much..?
But as he turns around, his grin fades, and he’s left standing there, arms fallen to his side.
[Florian] is so terrified of what's coming next. So he tries to get lost in Kaishu's embrace, and maybe he won't have to feel anything else. He presses his face away from the yelling, but he murmurs a thousand apologies, rapidly, as many as he can, under his breath. He glances back, at this class of people who he wanted to learn from and be friends with. "Please... please don't kill me.."
Florian Lovett
THE REVERSE TURING TEST, 2029
Steel, Plastic, Heart, Tears on Conveyor Belt
the Turing test;
a test of a machine's ability to exhibit intelligent behaviour equivalent to, or indistinguishable from, that of a human
His fall is broken gradually by a curve in the wall, like a slide, and he touches down with unexpected gentleness, shoes making soft contact with a smooth and seamless floor. Florian can barely stand though — the stability seems to be draining from his knees as he gulps down air between his crying, hardly aware of his surroundings.
It's dark, but with a click, glaring florescent light floods the area. Even Florian is stunned into momentary silence, and he realizes he has been placed on a conveyor belt suspended above a dark abyss, one belt among a network of many that criss-cross this vast production line he has found himself in. Before him and behind him, motionless humanoid figures stand still on the belt. As the lights power on sequentially, a bright red light flares to life at the end of the belt he is currently on — a big red button with a piece of tape on it that says ‘Pwess in case of ewemewgency’. Florian looks around at his surroundings, whimpering involuntarily, his heart beating out of his chest. He screams as the conveyor lurches into motion and throws him onto his hands and knees. It’s slowly carrying him away from the button.
There’s a sudden whirring behind him, and Florian looks over his shoulder to see the path he’s on leads to a short tunnel of tinted glass, a pair of clawed mechanical arms waiting within. As each figure before him enters the chamber, the steel arms lift them and violently remove the power cores from their chest cavities before passing them on. Florian’s frightened noises escalate to full-blown sobs, and he scrambles to his feet and starts running away from the end, towards the button.
Overhead, the other conveyor belts churn away, all similarly fixed with the same tunnels at the ends. Something dark falls past him. Then another. Florian glances at the third that falls, and sees one of the plastic androids, featureless like a crash dummy, tumbling past him into the darkness below, sporting a rugged hole in its chest.
“Someone please,” he chokes out, “please help me—”
He stumbles for a moment as the conveyor belt gets faster. Grimacing beneath his tears, Florian runs faster, too. This is for his survival. He needs to get to the button, he needs to hit it, this needs to stop—
He fixates on the button’s red glow as WINNIE pushes him to more effectively pump his arms and move his legs. Even as the conveyor speeds up, Florian matches it and moreso, closing the distance between himself and the button, pushing past the dolls in his way as the plastic bodies rain down around him. He begins to lift his hand as he nears his goal, the fear falling away from his face under the sheer tenacity of his and his AI’s determination to save the host, save his life—
A sharp pain suddenly explodes at the base of his skull and soon becomes electric fire that travels down his spine. Florian loses his footing with a yelp, landing flat on his face. He tries to get up, quickly, but his limbs feel like lead, and when he opens his eyes, the world is a washed out, white blur. He can't see. Florian gasps in terror, blinking frantically. WINNIE is malfunctioning. He concentrates.
No.. his ART has short-circuited, and the technology that improved his sight, his senses, the gift from his parents that kept him safe, helped him *live* a better life for the past five years is nonresponsive, overloaded. Winnie is gone.
He can barely process the crushing grief that swells in his chest, because the button, he still needs to— to get there—
He gets to his feet, his legs trembling from overexertion, and cannot move nearly as fast anymore. He’s trying, but with every step he’s getting slower, the gravity of his fate dragging him down.
He can’t do it. He collapses.
The conveyor belt delivers him speedily to the end he was running away from. The noise in the tunnel is unbearable, and though Florian screams and kicks and sobs, he feels the cold metal curl around his neck all the same. Soon his feet aren’t touching the floor.
“I’m sorry,” he cries, eyes wide and sightless, but flooded with guilt and remorse. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so so sorry, I’m—”
The claw rears above him then plunges down, robbing him of his heart. He’s tossed away then, plummeting from the network of industrial belts and landing in the sea of broken mannequins below. Just like the discarded dolls around him, there is a gaping injury over his chest, and though his wound bleeds crimson instead of broken wire, Florian is now missing what would have made him different from the lifeless machines he rests with.
"'Florian did this but it's not his fault. I saw him dragging Mx. Ryker. I'm sorry that I couldn't finish my gift to you, Yuko.'" With that, [Yuko's] eyes goes towards Florian. "She said it wasn't your fault. Why wasn't it your fault?"
