>>712
You spend a few minutes stuffing your pockets with fungi; mostly mushrooms, but also a few bracket fungi and even what might be some sort of slime mould. Once satisfied, taking your time, and in no particular hurry, you amble over towards where you think you heard that screaming coming from. The glowing fungi are not even remotely enough to illuminate your path, so you advance slowly, with both hands out in front of you, and treading very carefully.
The ground rises, passes over a ridge, then descends precipitously before levelling off again. You hear some hissing clicking noises from somewhere to your left, and momentarily hope you might've found the source of the screaming, but it seems to be just more trilobites. They scuttle away and are gone before you can react. You continue onwards for quite some way, and eventually reach the shore of an underground lake. The glowing fungi are more common here, as well as on the opposite shore, at least a hundred metres away.
Quite unexpectedly, you stumble across a manmade structure: a short, stubby concrete pier extending into the lake. It is ridged and slopes down at the end, suggesting it may be for launching watercraft. Following the structure inland, you find, embedded into the concrete, the bottom of a ladder leading straight up into the black expanse above. You can hear faintly from above an airy thumping sound, like the sound of a helicopter's rotor, but slower and more irregular.
You sweep the area, still searching for the source of that scream, and happen to spot a human figure lying face down on the shore on the other side of the pier. You can't identify it due to the low lighting, but you're fairly certain it's an adult male, so it's probably either Alexei, Aaron, or a grunt. Judging by their lack of motion, they are either unconscious, dead or playing dead. You try to approach, but as soon as you get within a few metres a vast, dark shape erupts from the water nearby and drives you off. A chance glint from the CRT monitor identifies the creature as Dr. Gay Hitler. He stamps and hisses threatening, before patrolling back and forth next to the human figure. He seems to be trying to prevent you from reaching the body.
>>713
You have a scream prepared in the back of your throat, suitable for any occasion.
>>714
You realise with a start that you don't have any files whatsoever! Worse still, you don't recall ever having had any. This is troubling news indeed. You chew your fingernails nervously, knowing you haven't a single suitable tool to file them down.
>>715
Neither your trilobite plate armour nor your tattered seifuku is - or has ever been - furnished with a fly or zip in the crotch part. The immensity of your lack of both files and flies settles on you, and you suddenly feel as though the rug has been pulled out from under your feet. This world is simply not as you thought it was.