ever since you’ve been my ace of hearts -

[uprisenheart]

WHO: Open to all Dualizens
WHAT: A heart-to-heart with the Heart
WHERE: A run-down warehouse on the outskirts of town.
WHEN: Sept. 21-22
WARNINGS: Please use these in comment subject lines if applicable!



Random text messages happen sometimes, though maybe not as often in Dualis as where you’re from. But there’s one today, and this one comes to your inbox from the number 432-78, which is definitely not a standard phone number. If you open it, there’s an image file, one you likely recognize - an anatomical heart. You’ll need to zoom in on the image a bit, because there’s a short message written along one of the veins, and it’s very small: LET’S TALK.

Below the image is a shortlink, and if you click it, you’ll be taken to a page that is blank except for one of those “Prove you’re not a robot!” messages with a box to check. Once checked, a series of six images appears - five are cartoon hearts, and the sixth is the same anatomical heart illustration that led you to this page. The instructions to pass through this virtual gate are to “Click on the Heart,” and choosing any image except the anatomical illustration redirects to an error message that bricks your phone until you perform a hard reboot.

Choosing the correct image takes you to a page of strange clusters of colored dots. If you look closely (and aren’t color blind), you’ll be able to read the real message: TOMORROW, AT SUNSET and a set of coordinates. A blinking banner scrolls along the top of the page and warns THIS MESSAGE WILL SELF-DESTRUCT IN 10 MINUTES, and the 10 counts down after one minute to 9, then 8, and so on. It’s probably a good idea to write this information down somewhere else!

The inbox message also deletes itself 10 minutes after it’s been opened. All unopened messages are auto-erased 12 hours after the original sent timestamp.

If you happen to be interested in following this rabbit down the rabbit hole, plug in those coordinates on your phone’s Dualis GPS app, and you’ll be directed to a run-down, empty warehouse on the outskirts of town. Be sure to take the time estimate to get there into consideration!

The warehouse is mostly dark inside, lit only by sparse flickering overhead lights; it’s dusty, empty except for the people gathered. When the sunlight outside has all but disappeared behind the horizon, a burst of loud electrical humming echoes through the warehouse, and the lights shut off. All electronic devices inside the perimeter of the warehouse have also been disabled, albeit temporarily.

Comments

[merged]

He seems annoyed and her upper lip twitches up in something of a soft sneer; he thinks she's stupid, she can tell. They got the information—the fucking prooof—that would take to get a swath of new people on their side and he doesn't want to bother reciting it because it would take too much time.

This is clearly some damn farce. She doesn't see talking, she sees people trying to get answers and getting nothing useful, other than the fact that it's all worse than she'd thought.

"Have you seen your fucking get ups, asshole?" Sharper again. She feels like a damn fool to have any hope for this at all,"You all look like a Party City cult—one that seems to want people to jump up and join without proof, just saying how you'll save us."

"Which, for the record, definitely hits on that cult shit."

[zwischenzugs]

"Fine, whatever, we're a cult," he says, flatly, with a dismissive shrug. "A cult of people who don't want to die here. What nefarious schemes must we be working to make that happen?" He scoffs loudly. "Do you even listen to yourself? Or anyone else, for that matter - you didn't answer my question, just screeched about how we must be a cult because we're all dressed in black. What proof do you need?"