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Arc 4 Seq 4 | The Medic's Request

Narrative Purpose


This step shifts the emotional center from the Technician's unraveling to the Medic's quiet clarity.

  • Emotional tone: Melancholy, gentleness, and creeping dread beneath routine.
  • Immediate goal: Receive a personal request from the Medic and perform a medical‑oriented task outside Command's authority.
  • Mechanical purpose: Introduce the Casualty Scanner tool and begin the "classification of the dead" mechanic, reinforcing the station's emotional weight and the artifact's subtle distortions.

Narrative Breakdown


Beat 1 | Morning Intra‑Mail

The Player wakes to a firm, professional message from the Medic — not urgent, but unmistakably a directive.

  • Camera: Full Control; first‑person in quarters.
  • Audio: Soft ventilation; a single, decisive chime from the comm terminal.
  • Environmental Cues: Dim simulated morning light; auto‑brew steaming steadily.
  • Objective / Task: Read the message.
  • Player Feedback: HUD prompt: "New Message — Medic."

Actions:

  • Notification marker guides the Player to the desk terminal.
  • The message is concise, authoritative, and expects compliance.

Dialogue:

System (text display): "From: Medic — Subject: Report In."

"When you're awake, come to Med‑Bay. I need you for something important

Triggers:

  • Objective update → "Report to Med‑Bay."

Beat 2 | The Gift of the Casualty Scanner

The Player meets the Medic, who is calm but visibly worn. She presents a new tool and a personal request.

  • Camera: Full Control.
  • Audio: Soft monitor beeps; faint coolant drip; subdued hum of life‑support.
  • Environmental Cues: Med‑Bay dim but stable; two occupied cots; one empty.
  • Objective / Task: Speak with the Medic.
  • Player Feedback: Dialogue wheel opens.

Actions:

  • Medic greets the Player with a tired smile.
  • She hands over a compact scanning device.
  • She explains its purpose: identifying casualties for records and closure.
    • the dead body under the sheet is the Medic, you are given a chance to ask about it and they misunderstand your question and answer it in an indirect way but that lets you know that they do not see what you see. Scanning the body shows someone not the Medic

Dialogue:

Medic (gentle) "I know Command has you running ragged… but I could use your help with something."

Medic (offering device) "This is a Casualty Scanner. It tags remains for medical logs. Someone needs to start the list."

Medic (soft) "I trust you to do it right."

Triggers:

  • Item acquired → Casualty Scanner.
  • Objective update → "Begin Casualty Classification."

Beat 3 | The Melancholy Task

The Player moves through nearby decks, scanning bodies and debris sites. The Medic guides them over comms, her voice steady but somber.

  • Camera: Full Control.
  • Audio: Echoing corridors; distant metal creaks; Medic's voice through comms.
  • Environmental Cues: Flickering hazard lights; sheet‑covered shapes; dust drifting in beams of light.
  • Objective / Task: Scan designated casualty sites.
  • Player Feedback: Scanner hum; soft haptic pulse on successful scan.

Actions:

  • The Player approaches each body or debris cluster.
  • Scanner overlays display names, partial IDs, or "UNIDENTIFIED."
  • The Medic speaks intermittently, reflecting on the dead and on the Technician.

Dialogue:

Medic (quiet) "Most of these people… I knew their routines. Their jokes."

Medic (hesitant) "The Technician's been… different. Softer. Forgetful. I don't think she realizes it. And now something happened when she confronted the Cultist about whatever you both found with his ship. You don't just turn like that. Do you?"

Medic (sad) "Thank you for doing this. It matters more than Command thinks."

Notes: Perception changes are the artifact's attempt to show the player that humans irrationality cause their own death. "Be peaceful, do not get yourself killed."

  • the player tries to scan a dead body and it gives an error (no body), then the player looks away and back the body is not there

  • the dead looks like the player, the player scanner shows the player, the medic comments that they knew the person and that they had just talked to them the week before. When you look away from the body, it no longer looks like you. Scanning it again shows it's already been scanned.


Beat 4 | Command Interrupts

As the final scan completes, the Commander cuts in abruptly — unaware of the Medic's task and uninterested in it.

  • Camera: Full Control.
  • Audio: Sharp comm crackle; Commander's clipped tone.
  • Environmental Cues: None.
  • Objective / Task: Receive new orders.
  • Player Feedback: Incoming comm notification.

Dialogue:

Commander (brisk) "Kid, report to Command. Got a job that won't wait."

Medic (soft sigh) "Go on. I'll finish the logs. Be careful out there."

Triggers:

  • Objective update → "Report to Command Deck."

Beat 5 | The Last Surviors

The Player is asked to search the residential sector to track the dead and search for survivors.

  • Camera: Full Control.
  • Audio: Ambient hum; occasional structural groans; no companion chatter.
  • Environmental Cues: Distant flickers; long, empty corridors; subtle shadow lag.
  • Objective / Task: Complete the assigned repair or containment mission.
  • Player Feedback: Standard mission UI.

Actions:

  • The Commander assigns the Player to survey the residential sector for missing crew and confirm system status.
  • The Player descends alone into the residential decks — dark, silent, and half‑powered. Sections of corridor lights still flicker sporadically.
  • The search begins with manual cataloging: empty bunks, scattered personal items, doors that won’t open. The HUD lists tasks: “Tag remains / Restore access / Report survivors.”
  • As the Player progresses, power inconsistencies and sealed rooms hint that the investigation doubles as a systems check; the Commander directs occasional relays to verify circuits.
  • Subtle environmental distortions recur — brief light warps, a shadow moving out of sync — but the mission proceeds as standard procedure.
  • Reaching the central junction reveals the main obstacle: the residential power grid collapsed into partial isolation, forcing the Player to reroute trunks and rebalance breakers to continue the survey.
  • The Commander signs off briefly, leaving the Player completely alone for the ensuing puzzle.

Dialogue:

Commander (flat, controlled) "We’re missing people in the residential sectors — maintenance crew, kitchen staff, a handful from logistics."

Commander (slight pause) "Take the scanner and move deck to deck. Log any casualties, tag bodies for retrieval, and note any survivors you find."


Beat 6 | Dismissal and Forced Rest

The Player returns to Command. The Commander has no further tasks and orders rest.

  • Camera: Full Control.
  • Audio: Low hum; faint rhythmic pulse beneath.
  • Environmental Cues: Command Deck lights dim to "night cycle."
  • Objective / Task: Return to quarters and sleep.
  • Player Feedback: HUD prompt: "Rest Required Before Next Operation."

Actions:

  • Commander leans back, exhausted.
  • He waves the Player off with a tired gesture.

Dialogue:

Commander (weary) "That's it for now. No more fires to put out. Rack out and we'll regroup next cycle."

Triggers:

  • Enables Free‑Roam Mode: Limited Areas Open.
  • Activates sleep marker in quarters.
  • Blocks next plot trigger until rest.

Narrative Intent


This sequence shifts emotional focus from suspicion to melancholy and quiet dread.

  • The Medic becomes a stabilizing presence — gentle, perceptive, and increasingly aware of the Technician's changes.
  • The Casualty Scanner introduces a somber mechanic that forces the Player to confront the human cost of the disaster.
  • The Commander's interruptions reinforce the widening gap between human needs and institutional routine.
  • The long solo mission deepens the sense of isolation and repetition.
  • By the end, the Player feels caught between two worlds:
    • the Medic's emotional truth
    • the Commander's mechanical demands

The tone carried forward is one of quiet unraveling, where compassion and routine coexist uneasily, and the artifact's influence continues to erode memory, continuity, and trust.