Prologue | Life-styles of a Bodega Astronaut
Dramatic Purpose
- Teach basic locomotion, interaction, dialogue, and network systems within a grounded, human workspace.
- Establish tone — mundane routine eroding into eerie unease.
- Introduce the recurring NPC (the man from the hauler) and the first threads of mystery.
- End with the inciting incident (the explosion) that transitions the game into the survival-horror phase.
Vignette 1 | New Customer
Time: Day One after the new ship docks.
Objective: Teach movement, interaction, and shop systems in a calm, procedural environment.
Gameplay setup:
- Player learns basic navigation in confined space (shop module).
- Shelf restocking (drag & place or timed input) introduces physics micro-interaction.
- Terminal use: read invoices, acknowledge shipments, check gate schedule.
- Environmental audio: hum of the station, chatter from dockside PA, looping mechanical drones.
Narrative beat:
- A new customer arrives — not a laborer or officer: composed, detached, quietly observant.
- Request: a list of high-grade consumables (filters, data crystals, sealed food).
- They ask you to send a short encrypted data payload through the gate network — routine but slightly irregular (using personal rather than corporate codes).
- Dialogue tone: polite but uncanny calm — too focused.
Goal of this vignette:
Introduce the daily life loop and the subtle oddness of the world. It feels real, ordinary — until you sense the surface tension.
Vignette 2 | Repeat Client
Time: Two weeks later
Objective:
Gameplay setup:
- Routine return to storefront duties using faster restock and delivery interactions from Vignette 1.
- Subtle ambient decay: a few drones idle, one corridor dark, occasional flicker in gravity sync.
- Side errand: a coworker from maintenance or logistics nearby mentions receiving a new TeleTalk implant—a short‑range neural comm system they've recently upgraded.
- They ask the player to help test it while finishing a simple task (carry crate, calibrate terminal).
- This introduces the mechanic for receiving or sending subvocal messages, lightly tutorializing the future distress‑call system.
- Dialogue rhythm reinforces casual workplace tone: jokes about “corporate surveillance,” small complaints about static or lag.
Narrative beat:
- The same hauler man returns. He looks worn and anxious, edges fraying, but insists on another data uplink and fresh supplies.
- Conversation remains clipped; he avoids eye contact and cuts off casual questions.
- If the player lingers afterward, the coworker with the implant pings them one last time:
“Well, guess it works! You sounded bored out of your mind, though.”
This neatly confirms the implant functionality and adds everyday texture. - Other voiced NPCs (dockhands, shop patrons) gossip idly: “That hauler guy give you the creeps?” / “Bet he’s running black‑contracts from the deep rings.”
Goal of this vignette:
- Primary: Develop routine familiarity and foreshadow the cultist’s unraveling.
- Secondary: Establish the TeleTalk system as a normal piece of station life that will later evolve into the player’s only communication lifeline.
- Begin weaving emotional ties to secondary NPCs—especially the one who later calls for help—so their eventual distress feels personal and earned.
Vignette 3 | Priority Transmission
Time: Five weeks later
Objective: Merge UI tutorial (terminal use, email/comms system) with the first narrative spike — The Catalyst.
Gameplay setup:
- Player enters a quiet, late‑cycle routine. Everything feels slightly “off”:
- Air recyclers seem to drone at a new, dim, subsonic hum that wasn’t there before.
- Coworkers mention hearing it too — half complaining, half joking that the walls are “singing.”
- Environmental sounds operate through the low‑frequency layer, almost tactile through headphones.
- Player is granted voluntary downtime activities:
- Check work mail, safety notices, and automated shift reports.
- Read side content about the station’s ongoing “reactivation testing” of the Sol Gate; one notice cautions that ambient magnetic harmonics have increased station‑wide.
- Establish a sense of daily monotony and creeping tension — the calm before horror.
- UI tutorial continues: terminals, data logs, optional reading; the hum is always present beneath everything.
Narrative beat:
- The man from earlier entries returns. His condition has worsened — sallow skin, sweat on collar, eyes too bright.
- His voice trembles between exhaustion and exhilaration; he keeps glancing toward the ceiling as though listening.
- The background hum subtly intensifies as he speaks, syncing with his mood swings.
- He insists on sending a priority‑class data payload through the gate immediately, overriding protocol.
- Dialogue escalates as the player keys in transmission data manually — paced input prompts with the hum rising in volume and harmonics distorting slightly each step.
- On the final system confirmation of the message send, a sudden flash overloads the screen:
- Explosion hits.
- The hum spikes into a crushing roar, instantly cut off by silence.
- Alarms and emergency red lighting flood the scene.
- Debris and violent motion break composure — transition to chaos and blackout.
Goal of this vignette:
To merge routine action and subtle unease into catastrophe. The faint station‑wide hum draws subconscious attention and becomes the sound of looming inevitability.
The player, through direct participation in the transmission, becomes the agent of disaster — a moment of mechanical and moral entanglement that bridges the mundane world of the prologue and the horrors of Act I.
Integration Notes
- Environment progression: The same physical spaces shown in different states—incrementally darker lighting, fewer ambient voices, subtle environmental decay.
- Player learning curve: Each vignette adds one new mechanic, culminating in mastery of all core interactions just before chaos begins.
- Continuity reinforcement: Emails and station announcements reference dates, cargo manifests, energy quotas — grounding time progression.
- Cinematic transition: Explosion is immediate blackout → hard cut to aftermath gameplay (the survival phase proper).