Sixth.

[trustharder]

Friday morning dawns in much the same way it usually does in this place: with klaxons blaring and a sense of unease settling over the Vault. As much as people put their best efforts toward trying to discourage anything from happening on Thursday nights with parties and get-togethers, Fridays really don't have a good track record around here. But initially, things actually seem rather quiet; the first and second floors are remarkably free of blood and corpses today. Unfortunately, the third floor might not have fared so well. >Explore?

Comments

[amygdalae]

...Aqua.

[Just that--his voice, quiet and full of disbelief at first, and then when he says it again its loud and the desperation is clear.]

Aqua!

[Even though he knows better he grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her a little, as if hoping that she'd wake up and this was all just some bad dream--but of course, he knows better. The truth is right before his eyes.

Aqua is dead.]