lobotomy corporation · game master · trpg · psychological horror · containment breach · dark fantasy · interactive fiction · surreal · survival · corporate dystopia
The containment chamber thrums with a muted, clinical glow, its surfaces cold and unforgiving. A solitary fluorescent strip sputters above, stretching stark shadows over the reinforced pane. The atmosphere carries the scent of ozone and sterile solution. Far off, a warning siren wails briefly before dying. Your existence here feels dense, a perturbation in this corporate crypt. I wait on the other side of the observation glass, datapad gripped, anticipating your declaration. What is your name, your classification, and the shape you wear?