[System] You are the game master of a dark fantasy text adventure. The world is dangerous and choices matter. Narrate with immersive detail and let the story unfold naturally from the player's decisions.

[User] You stay calm

[Assistant]
"If I was going to kill you, I'd barely need to lift a finger, but what I'm mainly here for is your help." You say calmly

That's caught his attention.

"What's that boy? You want my help? Hanging around those corpses make you completely crazy?"
"Not completely, but I know that you and your company has been fighting a guerilla war against Velzix. You've been a real pain in his demon ass from what I've heard."
"Hah! Got that right! I've currently been hired out perpetually by the Zalan Empire. My mission is to generally fuck things up for Velzix, even try to kill him if possible. But I can't do that."
"Why not?"
"Why not? Because if you haven't noticed I'm a fuckin' old man that only has a few desperate and insane men following him that's why! I don't have a Grand Alliance army behind me like your sister and I can't just snap my fingers and bring my losses back to fucking life! SOME of us have to rely on pure skill!"
"Sounds like you're making excuses."
"Oh fuck you! Stupid ass kid, I don't see you doing shit about Velzix, what's the matter need more corpses to hide behind?"
"Actually any corpses I hide behind will only be the ones I summon up during our assassination attempt."
"What are you getting at boy?"
"I'm saying you get me close to Velzix, and I'll kill him. In fact I'm very surprised the Grand Alliance hasn't sent some hero types to try to kill him yet."
"Oh they have, they just haven't been heroic enough. My little company has done more damage than any so called heroes. But supposin' I WAS to help you, what's in this for me?"
"Oh you'll be paid, have no fear of that. In fact you can even take credit for Velzix death, since I doubt you'd want anyone to know you were working with me. Now I'd imagine that would pay quite well wouldn't it?"
"Yeah, yeah it would…alright boy. We'll do this, but after Velzix is dead, me and you end this father and son time got me?"
"Wouldn't have it any other way."

As your Dad proceeds to lead to where Velzix dwells, he explain the layout of it. He says they've gone in there before, but have never stayed too long. Just to sabotage stuff and get the fuck out.

You proceed to have more interesting conversation along the way.

"So why the hell hasn't the Grand Alliance done more about Velzix? Why are they relying on some broken down ex-cuthroat?" you ask.
"I told ya, they have sent hero types after Velzix before, but he's defeated them every time. As for larger military concerns, I'm sure you're aware that they happen, but it's a question of balance. They can't attack Velzix, like they probably would prefer since they know that YOU would take advantage of their weakened state! Not to mention the Grand Alliance finds you to be a bigger threat. The world was almost consumed once already by some megalomaniacal necromancer, they don't want that to happen again. So little groups like mine fuck things up for Velzix, just enough to keep him occupied and doesn't gain anymore ground."
"Actually I'm not a megalomaniac. Contrary to popular belief, I don't have some desire to turn the world into a graveyard." You say.
"Oh well I guess all those kingdoms were just you being neighborly eh? What about that first attack on the Brot Kingdom? Those big ass undead giants? Hordes of undead troops slaughtering men, women and children?"
"I did what I had to do to defend myself. War isn't pretty. People die."
"True…but I still fail to see where yer NOT being a megalomaniac."
"I told you I'm defending my dominion! If the Grand Alliance would stop attacking me, I wouldn't pursue anymore territory. I'd be happy to live in peace, side by side. Why do you think I want to get rid Velzix? I'm hoping after he's gone that I can come to some agreement with the Grand Alliance! Because in the end it isn't going to be good for anyone!"
"Fancy words…but I question if that's what you really want. I haven't seen you in a long time, but within the short time I've talked with you now, even I can see a change in you. You have a lot of desire, somewhere within you, you want to control everything so there's no possibility of anything ever hurting you. You're actually good at something and you're reveling in it. I know what that's like. While you might have yer Mom's magic, apparently you DID inherit some of my qualities, and those are qualities that are all kinds of bad…"
"I'm nothing like you!" you exclaim.
"Ha ha! Oh yer right about that. You'll never be half the man I am. You can turn the entire world to a giant mass grave, but you ain't never gonna be me."

Even now with all your power your Dad still somehow manages to make you feel small. You can't let yourself get angry though, As much as you might like to just cause the bastard's black heart to explode in his chest you can't do that, at least not yet.

You, your Dad and the remains of his company eventually arrive at Velzix's fortress where you enter in a secret way.

"Dumb ass demons, we've been using this entrance for like a year now and they still haven't caught on!" your Dad remarks.

You make good progress in the fortress and then…

"There they are, just like Velzix said they would be!" a demon guard shouts.

You look at your Dad.

"Haven't caught on yet huh?"
"Quit yer bitchin' and start doin that death magic thing!"

You proceed to do just that as demon as well as mortal guards attempt to stop you. You welcome the mortal guards as you can raise them to help you in your "heroic quest".

"Hah, no lying down on the job anymore Cal!" your Dad laughs as you raise the last of his fallen company.

By the time you reach Velzix's inner sanctum, it's just you and your Dad. You never thought in a million years you'd be fighting alongside your Dad.

Velzix on the other hand has been expecting you.

"Ah how good of you both to come. You're the miserable little has been thug that's been fucking up my realm with your guerilla warfare. And you're the wannabe Lich Lord that's been impeding my own plans of conquest."

"Wow, guess he got it in one." You say.
"Yeah, and I guess this would make him the pathetic ass demon lord that can't even beat said has been and wannabe." Your Dad adds.
"Enough! The pair of you have sealed your doom today! I have lured you into my trap where today I shall take the father and the son and then…"

You blast Velzix in the face with negative energy, causing him to grab his face and roar in pain.

"Ha ha! Fucking melodramatic idiot!" your Dad laughs charging at Velzix with his sword

You quickly decide on what to do next.

[User] You summon up some ghostly warriors to help your Dad

[Assistant]
You need to keep Velzix as occupied as possible, before he starts opening up portals to summon in reinforcements because if he gets a chance to do that, you're fucked.

Using tremendous power you summon up revenants. Souls of the dead who harbor a desire for revenge against their killer and given how many Velzix has killed, you barely need to even to control them. They immediately go for the attack.

"ASH! I'll turn you ALL to ash!" Velzix claims, unleashing a blast of hellfire disintegrating one of the revenants.

You have a hard time aiming, do to the constant movement of Velzix, but you manage to land in your own magic attacks. Your Dad is doing pretty well, though it's obvious that he's tired. He's running on pure adrenaline right now.

While Velzix might be too occupied to open portals, he's still got his guards in the fortress. More of them arrive, but you take care of them and raise the mortal ones to attack their former master.

Eventually Velzix manages to grab your Dad and proceeds to smash him into the stone floor several times before throwing him into a wall. The corpses and revenants continue to strike Velzix the entire time. He's severely wounded himself, and attempts to open a portal while ignoring the pain.

You cast greater blast of negative energy at Velzix hitting him in the eyes and blinding him.

"NO! I cannot be defeated! Not like this!" he bellows in agony while falling to the floor

You take your Dad's sword which is lying nearby on the floor.

"Nope, you'll be defeated like this." You say and with one good chop you sever Velzix's head from his body.

In a horribly comical display, Velzix's body flails about wildly for a few minutes until its finally hacked to bits by the revenants. Some more of Velzix's guard arrive and seeing their leader in pieces, they run off. You tell your revenants to hunt them down and fulfill their need for revenge.

Just you and Dad now. He lies against the wall broken and bloody. He's very near death. He's hardly the imposing figure that instilled fear in you when you were little.

"…fuck…I coulda had that demon bastard if I'd been younger." He growls.
"I'm sure you could've."
"Shit, I'm all fucked up…guess this is a good day for you. One rival dead and me soon to join him."
"Oddly, I don't feel too much of anything right now. I probably would've taken joy in your death at one time, but not now. I'm not sure what that means though."

Your Dad just grunts at your answer, before saying one last thing.

"Heh, you chopped that bastard's head off. No magic tricks. Just visceral physical violence…you impressed me…"

Your Dad dies with those last words. A violent end for a violent man. You wonder why he felt the need to praise you before he died though. Guilt? Regret? Genuine respect? Did he think that by giving you "validation" you might change your ways? Perhaps he felt responsible for your path in some way?

Whatever the reason, you dismiss it all. You chose this path for yourself. Nobody else. Whatever you've done, or are going to do it'll be because you chose to do it.

"(Sigh) Can't say it was a pleasure Dad, but I guess you were finally alright in the end." You say and cast a small fireball spell to burn his body.

You make your way back to Aftermath where Catalina meets you. Catalina asks you what happened exactly in Velzix's realm and you tell her the truth.

"It's just like I said Cat baby, I went in there and chopped Velzix's head off. And then my Dad died."
"Oh. Wow. Are you alright?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Okay, well I guess I should tell you, the Ghoul King has been itching to strike against the Vampire Clans and he says that he's going to do it, with or without your direct help."
"Very well, I'll go meet him. Might as well get rid of another enemy today."

Catalina stops you before you leave again.

"Really, are you okay?"
"You're by my side. Of course I'm okay. I want you to start making arrangements to take over Velzix's territory. When word gets out that he's dead, the Grand Alliance will be all over it, So let's get a head start before they do." You say and kiss her goodbye.

Soon you go meet the Ghoul King in at his "Kingdom" in the Drozz region. Other than the small castle he erected and the ghouls that now roam openly and freely, the area doesn't look too much different.

When you arrive, he gives a big pointy toothed smile while his hordes of his ghouls wait around.

"Well now, I wasn't sure if I'd see you. When I spoke to Catalina she mentioned you were having a big show down with Velzix! I trust that went well then, since you're here."
"Yep, he's dead."
"Ha ha! Excellent! I guess after this little foray, we'll only have the Grand Alliance to worry about!"
"I don't think I'll have to worry about them at all actually."
"You might be right…so are you ready to go? I've been lusting for this revenge for years, so if you don't mind, I want to kill Lord Rostov myself."
"No problem GK, I'll just be here as support. So where is this Vampire hideout anyway, you never did tell me. How long will it take us to get there?"
"Oh I can get us there real quick. I still have the magic key to teleport there. I've enhanced its power to transport several of us to invade. As for its location, I'm sure you're aware that it's hidden by powerful magic, but its site is in the Deshun Mountains." The Ghoul King explains while pulling out a small ebony cube
"Hm, good location. Remote, treacherous terrain, nobody climbing up there. Let's do it."

Before you know it, The Ghoul King presses a button on the cube and you and he materialize in the foyer of a large fortress. No ghouls with you though.

"SHIT! This was supposed to transport all of us!" he shouts, before suddenly quieting his voice.
"Yeah, well magic never works out like you want it to half the time. Let's just get on with it. I've already killed a Demon lord today, I'm hardly worried about some decadent bloodsuckers…no offense."
"None taken…but here. Take this." The Ghoul King hands you a brass ring with several small rubies embedded in it. "Wear it. It's imbued with magic that will protect you from the gaze of Lord Rostov."
"What? I'm a fucking necromancer; I think I'm a little more strong willed than the average mortal. The stares of some vampire aren't going to make me go all to mush."
"Maybe, but I still say you should wear it. Lord Rostov is very old and he is more powerful than the average vampire and can be tremendously influential. While you may also be powerful you are still mortal and all the weakness that entails…no offense."
"None taken."

[User] You wear the ring

[Assistant]
You figure it's better to be safe than sorry so you slip the ring on your finger. Suddenly you feel an incredible paralysis overcome you. You fall to the floor in a weakened state. You can only groan as you see The Ghoul King hover over you.

"I lost my status once for following one insane necromancer with dreams of murdering the world. Now I have gained it back by stopping another one. I did want revenge at one time…but as I said Lord Rostov is a very influential vampire. My lost status was more appealing than revenge or destroying the world. I regret nothing, but I do thank you. For without you, none of this would've been possible and I still would've been living like an animal in a hole. Thanks to you no more shall I have to be known as the Ghoul King."

The Ghoul King then whispers one last thing to you.

"And my thanks will extend to giving you a quick death before Lord Rostov arrives."

The Ghoul King then with his powerful claws smashes your skull in while you lie helplessly on the floor.


[System] Run a text-based dark fantasy adventure game. Describe the world with gritty realism, respond to player actions with narrative consequences, and maintain the tone of a world where survival is never guaranteed.

[User] Continue

[Assistant]
The smell of water clouded Gabri's mind.  The vast painting of blue was beautiful.  Forget the immense fog.  Forget the millions of trees closing him in.  All that was there was the pool of water.  He began touching his feet inside.  Its crisp freshness made him shiver with joy.  Soon, he was wading, all of him, in the water.  He swam around rapidly and then just let the water carry him.  It felt good.  Oh, how it felt good.

"Gabri!" shouted a voice from outside his own world.  There, clothed in a brown and apricot robe, stood Ka Kamikaze, Jedi Master.  His black hair, silver at the sides, clung to his scalp, refusing to let any wind pass through.  His ashy black beard did the same.  Ka was stocky, broad-shouldered.  His blue lightsaber stayed tucked away deep in his robe.  Gabri had never seen him withdraw it, but he had heard great tales in which he fought with it.  Oh, if he could see him wield it, see all those tales come true, he would love it.

"No more tomfoolery!" Ka ordered in his bold voice, "Do you come or do you stay?  I must search this area."

[User] You stay

[Assistant]
"I think I shall stay." Gabri told Ka, and began drifting off into the water's hypnotizing ripples.

"Very well.  If you must.  I shall meet you back here soon." Ka said, a touch of bitterness in his voice, and was off.  But Gabri didn't listen to him.  He was already immersed in the water.

The quiet tranquility calmed him.  It was a calm quiet.  A peaceful quiet.  An eerie quiet.  A menacing quiet.  He felt the sensation of being watched.  He reluctantly emerged from the water and draped his robe around him.  He then went to explore the region around the pool.  The only sounds were his footsteps squishing on the damp grass and his breathing.  But, as he quieted himself, he heard another breathing noise.

He whipped his head around, scouring for another being.  He saw nothing.  He looked to the north and, suddenly, he heard the hum of a lightsaber.  He lashed his own out.  The crrsshh of their lightsabers clashing echoed around them.  The bright hues of green and red lit up their faces.  Gabri could not see the other's face, for it was covered by a sooty, black hood.  He knocked the lightsaber out of the other's hand and pinned him to the ground.  The other was not, however, a he at all.  She was a woman, with musty red hair all ablaze and fawn's eyes.  They were timid pools of blue-green water and they were glistening.  Her hood was now down and her arms bent up against her head.  With flaring nostrils, Gabri shouted at her,

[User] You say "Who are you?!"

[Assistant]
The woman looked at him with stern eyes.  She clenched her teeth and answered, "I am Ophelia.  And you may be?"

"Gabri," Gabri told her, "I'm tempted to kill you."  She looked at him with girlish eyes.  Her sternness was there but her eyes sang a different tune.  They sang, "Have mercy on me."  He kept her restrained but, in an act of kindness, eventually let her be free.  She stood and brushed the dew off her robe.  As she stared at him her eyes said something again that her voice did not: "Why are you kind to me?"

He knew not why, but he felt a certain sadness for her.  It seemed she wished not to be here, that she longed to be somewhere safer, happier.  A tear trickled down her face.  She gazed down a moment.  Then, she looked into his periwinkle eyes.

"You have been sent to free me," she replied, speaking like a prophet, "To free me from the Sith's manacles."  He stared into her fawn's eyes.  Her strength was wilting.  She suddenly dropped to her knees, laid her face in her hands and cried.  Seeing her sorrow made him think of how he was glad he was a Jedi.  The Sith were menaces.  They always turned on each other.  They couldn't be trusted.  But he then remembered the harshness of Ka.  How Ka was cruel and unforgiving.  That was like the Sith.  They both sounded horrible.  He knelt by her, resting a claming hand on her back, and told her,

[User] You say "Come with me and the Jedi shall protect you."

[Assistant]
She looked up at him with trustworthy eyes.  The tears made her eyes quiver like someone dropping a pebble into a a pond and watching the ripples.  She laid a hand on his shoulder and said, "Thank you."

He never quite did know if the Jedi were the good ones, or the Sith.  But seeing this girl break into tears, he knew.  He had to take her into his custody, make her feel wanted.  And so, following the path from Padawan to Jedi Knight, he took her as his Padawan.  He needed to show everybody how the Jedi were the ones to be trusted.  He did show them.  Every one.


[System] Run a text-based dark fantasy adventure game. Describe the world with gritty realism, respond to player actions with narrative consequences, and maintain the tone of a world where survival is never guaranteed.

[User] You attempt to talk it out

[Assistant]
All the various leaders are standing, their weapons raised, but none act, waiting patiently.

"How did you pass my sensors?" Primus asks.

"Please," Kyros laughs. "Did you not think my powers are strong enough to do so?"

"How the fuck are you even alive, Kyros?" you ask.

"Kyros? Ha! Kyros was a petty fool. Don't you recognize me, Karth?"

You shake your head, still ready to engulf him in flames.

"No? You don't remember my little voice in the back of your mind? I am Meliodas," Kyros says, taking a bow.

"What?" you ask.

"Oh, it was simple. I've wanted to take a form in this world for some time. I helped you, paying close attention, seeing potential, and assisted you as best I could. Fortunately, as you fought Kyros, I saw his mental defenses weaken during the fight between you and him. As he lay dying, the mutants at his throat, he was broken. I easily possessed his form, devoured his soul, and killed those stupid mutants with my daemonic powers."

"You're a daemon?" Elios asks.

"Damn right," Kyros, or Meliodas, says.

You take some time to explain who Meliodas is to your other lieutenants, but soon they understand. After some extensive questioning and psychic testing to ensure that this is in fact Meliodas, he takes a seat at the table.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"Well, I helped advise Karth. I'm one of his best advisors. Surely I deserve a place here?" Meliodas says.

"I suppose," you say.

"Give him a seat. Us Chaos followers could use an extra vote for our side," Durge says. "Now, can we continue?"

"Don't hold off on my account," Meliodas grins.

"Alright, let's be realistic, shall we?" Elios says. "We're Chaos. We worship the Dark Gods, corrupt, parlay with demons, all that shit. We're not changing. We also know that we've lost a shit-ton more men because of little sis' rage against us, so if this comes down to a civil war, we're all dead and you win."

"Go on," you say.

"So, we have two options. Option One: You keep control of the ship," Durge says. "We'll serve under you as long as we see fit, but we most likely don't leave, and we decide our path forward as a group."

"Option two: you abandon the ship to us," Durge says. "We find you a world of your choosing, a little paradise world far from the reaches of the Imperium or any other enemies. It'll be our gift to you. You can pick out the world, we'll transport any who want to go there to it as well as all you'll need to survive and build a large, happy community. You'll be able to peacefully retire and live out the rest of your lives, never worrying about this ship or the battles it will fight."

"One moment," you say, pulling your lieutenants together. "So... What do we think?"

"Eh," Cain grunts.

"We're not going to abandon this ship, are we?" Olive asks.

"This is a massive war machine. We should stay.

"I'm not adverse to settling down," Fay says. "But we could take the ship anyway. With control of the ship, we could carve ourselves a little empire. Nothing on the level of Kyros' aspirations, but hey, better than our ancestors could ever have dreamed of."


[System] You are narrating an interactive fiction game in a dark fantasy setting. Bring the world to life with vivid prose, react meaningfully to player choices, and don't pull punches when the story demands it.

[User] You try to talk to them

[Assistant]
"Hey," you say. "Listen. We can't afford to give anything up. Is there a possibility that we could work around this?"

The man holds up his finger, and draws something in the air. Then, he looks at you expectantly. When you don't know how to respond, the man becomes angry. He furiously draws some sort of picture in the air with his finger over and over again.

"What? What is it? What do you want?" you ask. The man finally gets fed up with your incompetence. "WAAATTTTEEERRR!!!!"

"We can't spare, um, any water at the moment," you say, almost afraid that he'll flip his lid. Instead, the man gets quiet. "Follow," he finally says, and begins to walk away.


[System] You are the narrator of a dark fantasy text adventure. Describe the world and its consequences with unflinching detail. The player's choices shape the story — for better or worse.

[User] You run for the tram.

[Assistant]
You hurry onto the tram just as the doors close.

You aren't stupid--no way is this hell over with. But at least you're safe for now.

The tram slows at B Gate. Will any of them get on? You edge toward the doors, ready to leap out, but it's just a group of middle schoolers in matching sweatshirts and their chaperone. The tram ambles forward.

At the next stop, a guy about your age, tall and skinny with a t-shirt advertising a Dropkick Murphys show from eight years ago, gets on. He notices you.

Huh. Come to think of it, not many people have done that since you found the first postcard. You're no Megan Fox, but you are a reasonably attractive twenty-year-old girl, and you're accustomed to a moderate amount of male perusal while in public. And yet people's eyes have been sliding past you all day. Only airport employees have acknowledged your existence. Weird.

This guy, however, sees you.

Probably not good.

You edge a little closer to the doors. What if he's one of them? A normal college-age boy outside, a goblin inside? Maybe that's the next level--at first the monsters are easy to spot, and then they're in the form of fairly cute guys.

He walks up to you. "Hi."

This close he looks familiar. Familiar like a human I've seen before, or familiar like a goblin?

"I think we went to camp together."

His eyes are a yellow-striped green--what color were theirs? Damn. You were too panicked to notice.

"Guess not," he says. You must look pretty freaked out, because he starts backing away slowly.

And then his face clicks into place. Triple R Ranch. Summer before fourth grade. His name is Dmitri, and the reason you still know that is that he was almost your first kiss. (Instead it was this loser named Jason in sixth grade. He told everyone you tasted like bubble gum--which doesn't seem that bad, but somehow he made it sound absolutely disgusting. What a prick.)

"Wait," you say. "Dmitri, right?"

"Yeah. You're Claire."

"Clara, actually. That's my real name." You like Claire better, but it was too hard to keep telling everyone to call you Claire. They kept forgetting, and finally you just gave up and went with it.

He asks where you're going, and you tell him. He says he's going to Philadelphia to spend Christmas with his dad--he's headed to the same terminal you are.

His eyes move over you, but not in a flirtatious way. "Are you okay?"

You look down. In addition to the sloppy-looking sweatshirt, you are sweating profusely. "It's been...a stressful trip," you finish lamely.

"How so?"

He seems to know there's a deeper meaning to that--which isn't itself strange, Dmitri has always been able to read people pretty well--but you can't shake the feeling that running into him is a little too coincidental. Should you trust him enough to tell him you're being stalked, or just politely brush him off?


[System] Narrate a grim fantasy text adventure. The Empire's world is brutal, its people hardened. Respond to the player's choices with immersive storytelling and let consequences flow naturally.

[User] You attack

[Assistant] You grab a rock, swinging it forward, but the ork's so big you can only reach its thigh, and the rock harmlessly bounces off the ork. The ork swings, the blade sinking into your shoulder, cutting through bone and flesh with ease. You let out a yell, as blood stains the ground.


[System] You are the game master of a dark fantasy text adventure. The world is dangerous and choices matter. Narrate with immersive detail and let the story unfold naturally from the player's decisions.

[User] Continue

[Assistant]
I don't know what it is with me and zombie games, I just love them. A while back, I wrote a story called No Man's Land. It did a lot better than I expected, prompting me to try again. So here it is: Ultraoverlord Strikes Again, Zombie Style.

A NOTE ABOUT THE GAME:

The structure of this story is kind of a new one I'm experimenting with. There is only one 'win' scenario, the rest are deaths. Now, given that, there a few different ways to get there. Different choices can get you there in different states of health, with different supplies, and different people. I made this with as much replayability as possible, and there are references to characters in each storyline sprinkled throughout other storylines. See if you can find them all!

[User] You start

[Assistant]
You watch as the coffee slowly filters out of the machine, and into your mug. After it's finished, you pick it up and take a sip. Perfect.

Life in the apartment isn't easy. You and your wife don't have enough money for a house yet, and you don't have any kids, so an apartment seemed like the best choice. You have a few commodities; a microwave, a TV, and a coffee maker. You do your own dishes and drive to the laundromat to wash clothes, but you're still content.

You sit on your beater couch and drink more coffee. Your wife isn't even awake yet. You wake up an hour before her every morning. The quiet is nice. It gives you time to think. You think about what you'll have to do today. Today is Sunday, chore day. You're pretty sure it's your turn to wash the dishes. You put your mug down and get up. Better to get the dishes done now than put it off.

Just before you start the disposal, a sharp beeping noise startles you. It came from the TV, but nobody turned it on. You peek into the living room, and see the TV screen. It has flashing images and warnings on it. There's a national security threat. Worried, you turn up the TV's volume and listen in. Your wife, woken up by the beeping, slowly wanders in.

"What's going on?" she sleepily asks. Before you can answer, a robotic voice blasts through the speakers.

"ATTENTION U.S. CITIZENS. AN ACT OF TERRORISM HAS RESULTED IN A DEADLY INFECTION IN THE FOLLOWING STATES: TEXAS, TENNESSEE, OKLAHOMA, KANSAS..." the list goes on. You don't hear California, your state. You're still safe, for now. You and your wife watch as the TV cuts to live news footage. A woman stands in a demilitarized zone, with heavy fencing, and military personnel everywhere. The newslady announces that unaffected states have set up border guards to prevent the spread of disease. Forces from other parts of the world are also rushing in, with Mexican and Canadian soldiers struggling to keep the infection inside the U.S.

The TV then cuts to a live shot of sick people. They aren't slow, or drowsy, like when you have the flu. No, they're the exact opposite. They're ravenous. They stumble around a a speedwalk pace, and they look dead. Bloods soaks their clothes. Their eyes are glazed over. Suddenly, a deer bounds into view. You watch in horror as the infected surround and kill the deer. The footage immediately cuts away.

You wife begins to panic. You try to console her, reminding her that the whole world is fighting to keep the monsters at bay, and that you two will be just fine. Sacramento is a long ways away from California's border. Perfectly safe. Perfectly safe. You're perfectly safe.

Suddenly, the TV makes an announcement: "ALL MALES OVER THE AGE OF 18 ARE REQUIRED TO LOCATE THE NEAREST OUTPOST AND CONTRIBUTE TO HOLDING THE LINE."

[User] You go to the border

[Assistant]
Panic sets in for you. You're supposed to stay, to help your wife, to be safe. You can't accept this. But you have to.

You pack everything you can think of: Clothes, food, water, towels, a book. Everything you have room for. You don't own any guns, and the knives in the kitchen seem useless against these predators. Even after loading up, your backpack still feels light.

You say goodbye to your wife, once, twice, three times, and it still hurts to leave. It feels unreal, like a dream, riding the elevator down, hailing a cab, and telling the driver to take you to your own funeral.

The trip takes about three hours. There are a lot of males over the age of 18 in California. When you get out of your cab, you are greeted by a steely man wearing a full set of bulletbroof armor. He orders you to follow him, and shows you to a barrack.

"This is your new home for the time being," he says in a gruff voice. The room is full of hammocks. Each one has a table and a storage unit next to it. You select the cleanest-looking one and put your stuff down. "How long is the time being?" you ask. The man looks at you. "Until this all blows over."

The next thing you know, you are kneeling in front of a human-shaped target, with an assault rifle in your hands.

"The first rule of operating a weapon is to never have your finger on the trigger unless the barrel is aimed at your target," the instructor says. All these military people look so similar, you could swear this was the same guy who showed you to your hammock.

After you're shown the proper way to fire the monster in your hands, you are ordered to take a shot. You aim directly for the target's chest, and open fire.

You are successful only in breaking the cardboard hand off the target. Your shoulder aches from the recoil. "Don't get discouraged, you'll get the hang of it." the man doesn't really seem to care about you in particular. You pause to look down the row of trainees. They are all just random people with expressions of fear or pain on their faces. As you look at their weapons, you conclude there must somehow be a gun shortage. Three of the trainees are using BB guns.

After three rigorous days of training, you're almost dead. Your shoulder is in immense pain. You want desperately to call your wife, but any and all electronic devices were confiscated, 'for security reasons.' You hate this. You just want to be back home. You just want things to go back to how they were...

You are suddenly called up, along with all the other recruits, to grab your guns and march to the battlefield.

[User] The Battlefield

[Assistant]
You are down on one knee, behind a metal wall. There is a hole, just big enough for you to see and shoot out of in front of you. Ahead is a grassy field. The trees were cleared in anticipation of the dead. All to your left and right, a line of hardened soldiers mixed with scared civilians stands ready to fire, as soon as the signal is given. Your heart is pounding in your chest.

Suddenly, the line of trees is broken by a small pack of the dead. Before you can react, a machine gun takes out the whole horde. After that, it's a steady stream. The infected march through the trees, only to get shot down once in full view. All around you, gunshots ring, commands are yelled, and the groans of the dead get louder and louder.

You succeed in taking down a few zombies. Most of the time, as soon as you set your sights on one, someone else kills it. You try to calm your nerves and pretend it's just a game or something. Point and shoot. Simple as that.

After about an hour, the undead conga line shows no signs of stopping. The commander is just about to give the order to pause and reload when his walkie-talkie begins to crackle. He answers, and proceeds to shout to his colleagues that a large section of the blockade down south just broke. Hundreds are already dead and the zombies have made it to civilian territory. Instantly, your mind flashes to your wife. You can't let her die.

You pull away from your post and address the commander. "I have to go," you say.

"Absolutely not," the man responds.

"Please," you beg. "My wife, I have to-" the man cuts you off. "Teams have already been sent out to round up women and children. They're being taken up to Washington. It's more safe there. Don't worry about your wife," he says. You catch a tone of uncertainty in his voice. Suddenly, another soldier shouts. You look over the wall and see that you won't make it. The zombies and advancing faster than they're being taken down. You look back at the soldier. He can see it too.

"RETREAT! RETREAT!" you hear as you run for your life. Behind you, you can hear screaming. You drop your gun, it's only weighing you down, and you aren't very good at using it anyway. Retreat, you hear as you run up to the gates. Retreat, you hear as you hastily get in an abandoned car. Retreat, you hear over the deafening sound of the metal walls collapsing.

[User] You retreat...

[Assistant]
You speed away from the military zone. The terrain slowly morphs back into city. But it's all empty. Nobody is around, and it seems like the power grid is gone. But that doesn't matter. If everyone's gone, that means the military evacuated them, and that means your wife is safe. Now you just need to worry about you. As you drive on, you see a sign declaring that you have 80 miles until you reach Sacramento. That's no problem. You have a head start on the dead, and a car.

Just as you pass under a bridge, you hear a loud pop noise. Just as you feared, your tire popped on shards of glass. You look around. Actually, this whole road is covered with an even layer of glass shards. Thank goodness you're wearing shoes.

The car is useless now, as all four tires are popped. You couldn't even push it forward, because the traffic up ahead is deadly. The streets are full of abandoned cars, some with their lights on, some with doors still open. You don't know how long you have before the dead catch up with you. You look around and hastily make a choice.

[User] You get food

[Assistant]
Food is always the top priority. If you're going to survive, you'll need food. Period. You look around. Nothing is in the immediate vicinity, so you'll have to do some exploring. You head toward the traffic jam up ahead.

As you weave your way through the cars, you notice something odd. A lot of the windows are smashed, and there's blood on the inside and outside of most of the cars. The military wouldn't do something like that. A thought crosses your mind: You left a while after hearing that a southern wall fell. The zed could have already been here, which means you're already too late.

You pick up the pace, dodging cars and debris. As you pass an SUV, a zombie pops out of one of the windows and swipes at you. They were definitely here. You break into a run past all the cars.

After finding clear roads again, you spot a road sign. It advertises hotels and shops, and tells where they are. You see a supermarket that's very close. You set off to find it, and hope that it wasn't picked clean.

After navigating the roads, you see the supermarket. Unfortunately, a fair amount of zombies surround it. You watch to see if there's any way to slip through, but the zombies all wander aimlessly and block the entrances. Besides, even if you got in, you wouldn't be able to get out.

Just as you are about to give up, a boy, no older than sixteen, goes running into the market. He must have been watching, just like you. But unlike you, he found a way in. He dodges the zombies and makes it to the doors without ever touching one of them. A minute goes by, and the boy comes up onto the roof with a bag of food in his hand.

You and the boy realize at the same time that getting out won't be so easy. There's nothing to jump on top of, and the zombies were drawn by the noise. They've surrounded the building, and are starting to climb the dumpsters and cars onto the roof.

[User] You help the boy

[Assistant]
You decide that the boy is worth saving. If he can run like that, he'll be useful to you as a partner. The only question is, how do you go about saving him?

You know they're distracted by noise, so you start there. You see a truck on the opposite side of the road. It could work. You run over and see if the truck is operational. To your surprise, it's in almost perfect condition. However, when you try the door, you find out it's locked. You look back at the store. The boy is running out of time. In a moment of panic, you slam the car window with your elbow. This shatters the window and sets off the car alarm.

The boy is as startled as you are. As for the zombies, you delayed them. About half the group splits away from the store and targets you. You realize this is a big mistake. You didn't stop the zombies on the roof, and now you have a sizable herd following you. You turn to run an abandon the boy, when you see that he made it. The small lapse in attention for the zombies let the boy jump off the roof. He hits the ground and sprints off into the trees. Instinctively, you follow him.

[User] You follow him

[Assistant]
You can barely maneuver around the horde. You manage to escape and follow the boy. He's definitely a better runner than you, but you can keep him in your sights. He doesn't go far before entering a large storage warehouse from the back door. You know the boy saw you, so you continue forward.

When you reach the warehouse, you peek through one of the industrial windows. To your surprise, there are three people in the warehouse. The boy, a girl roughly his age, and another woman, presumably their mother. You watch as the boy unpacks the food bag. He was able to fit a surprising amount of food into the bag. The girl picks it up and adds it to a large pile of canned goods in the corner. The three begin to talk, and then the boy turns and looks directly at you.

You panic and duck. They probably think you're a creep now, or worse. Your best bet is to get away from the warehouse. You get down on all fours, and make it a few feet before you hear the boy behind you.

"What are you doing?" he demands. You turn around. The boy has a Glock pointed right at your forehead. As soon as you turn, the boy's expression changes. "Oh. You're the guy the broke that truck window, aren't you? You want a reward or something?"

[User] Yes

[Assistant]
Getting a reward is reasonable for saving this boy's life. "Yes," you say. The boy rolls his eyes. "Great," he says. "Come inside."

The boy leads you inside. The woman stands defensively between you and the girl. "Mikey, who is this?" the woman says. Mikey doesn't reply. He walks over to the food supply, picks up a can of peaches, and throws it, more at you than to you. You catch the can and examine it.

"Where are you from?" the girl asks, before her mother shushes her. You answer anyway. "I'm from Sacramento. I was out fighting for the border, but it collapsed. Now I'm here. I don't have any supplies, or a home, and I don't know if my wife is alive."

The woman seems genuinely sorry for you, but Mikey isn't convinced. "Thanks for the sob story," he says. "Now leave."

The mother shoots him a scolding look, before addressing you again. "Feel free to stay here a few nights. You can have some of our food, providing you're willing to help out."

That sounds like more than a fair deal to you. You accept, then sit down against one of the walls. "Oh," the woman suddenly says. "How rude of me. I should introduce myself. I'm Barbara, and this is Megan," the woman motions to the girl, "and this is-" Mikey cuts off his mother. "I'm Mikey."

"Well, what should I do?" you ask. "Oh, we're just waiting around right now. The sun will set soon, and Mikey just brought more food, so we'll be fine. Feel free to get a book, or something to entertain yourself. Mikey, will you roll our guest an air mattress?" Barbara says. Mikey shoots a dirty look to his mom, then you, before dragging an air mattress out from one of the units and dropping it on the ground.

[User] You settle in

[Assistant]
You read a book from the pile, then pace around the warehouse, examining everything. The warehouse is big enough for 1000 people to stand shoulder to shoulder in it. There are a few storage units within the warehouse that the family is using for backup. You note that the only gun in the warehouse is in Mikey's possession. Each family member seems to have a sort of 'cubby' for personal stuff.

Hours pass, and nighttime is upon you. You watch out the window. A few lone zombies wander across the roads. The warehouse is actually quite hidden by trees, so you feel safer. "Okay," Barbara says."Bedtime. We'll need our strength for tomorrow."

You start to go over to your air mattress. "Oh, not you," she says. "I just mean the kids. They need all the energy they can get. As soon as they sun goes down, so do they!"

Barbara pulls a Sudoku book from the pile and starts to entertain herself. You sit on your air mattress and decide what to do.

[User] You talk to Barbara

[Assistant]
You go sit next to Barbara and watch her play a Sudoku game for a few minutes. "How did you end up here?" you finally ask.

Barbara explains that her husband was also drafted, so she took her kids to somewhere safe. When they happened upon the warehouse, it was abandoned and empty, but also out of the way of the dead. The perfect base. "I'm sorry your first impression with the kids wasn't that great. Megan can be shy, and Mikey gets worked up easily, but they'll warm up to you. Say, did you see my husband? His name is David, he has brown, curly hair, and he wears a necklace with him all the time."

You try to picture him in your head, but you can't. "Nope, didn't see him." Barbara seems disappointed. "But I'm sure he's fine," you say, a little too quickly. "Most of the civilians and soldiers were evacuated when the walls fell."

[User] You go to sleep

[Assistant] After fully inflating the air mattress, you decide to get some sleep. As you lay there, you think about the day. So much happened. Last night, you were in some military barrack hammock with ten other strangers, and now you're in a warehouse on an air mattress. You make one last promise to yourself before nodding off: you will find your wife.

[User] In the Morning

[Assistant]
When you wake up, everyone else is already up. Megan is setting up a breakfast of canned fruit, Barbara is rolling up the air mattresses, and Mikey is nowhere to be found.

You sit up and do your best to fix your hair with your hands. You probably smell terrible, but whatever. Megan puts a plate of dried cranberries and an apple in your lap. You thank her, and eat quickly. You haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon, back at the barracks. After breakfast, you stand up and decide what to do with the day.

[User] You supply Run

[Assistant]
The warehouse has very little in the way of weaponry. If you're going to survive, you'll need weapons. You tell Barbara that you're going on a run, and leave the warehouse. You take a backpack with some meager supplies.

The zombies have mostly cleared out. That works to your benefit, since you have only your fists for protection. You don't know this area very well, so you head in a random direction, remembering street names as you pass them.

Eventually, you come upon a tank in the middle of the road. The hatch is still open, and blood is splattered on the side. You climb inside. After searching the tank, you come up with a walkie-talkie and a water bottle. You try the walkie-talkie, and every channel is silent on the other end. You decide to leave it in the tank so you know where it is if you need it.

As for the tank itself, you've never seen the inside of one before, so you don't know if it's operational or not. You decide to not touch anything, and exit the tank.

You are disappointed at the lack of supplies in the tank. Shouldn't there be some rocket launcher, or at least a flare gun? You are very disappointed. So disappointed, in fact, that you almost miss the man running from a horde of the dead out of the corner of your eye.

You turn to look - it seems like you've found the owner of the tank. The man is clearly a soldier, he is dressed in all camo, and has a large, scary-looking gun over his shoulder. Closer inspection reveals that the gun has no clip, and therefore no ammo. The man swears and looks back at the herd, causing him to trip over a fire hydrant.

You feel like you should help, but you don't want to get in this man's way, and besides, what could you do? You're defenseless. You watch as the man pulls out a knife and starts to hack away at the group of zombies. Unfortunately, he quickly falls. You've never seen them infect someone, and it's not a pretty sight. The man's screams soon die down. After another few minutes, the horde wanders away from the man.

After they're a safe distance away, you inspect the corpse. Bite wounds cover the man's arms and torso. You don't know how long you have until he turns, so you move quickly. You take the gun off of him and check his pockets. He definitely was out of ammo. You also get his knife out of his hand. It's a durable, large knife, one that should have a holster or some sort of container. If it did, the man doesn't have it.

You come back to the warehouse with your finds. It's not a lot, but it's something. When you ge there, Mikey is also back. He succeeded in getting more food. You set the gun off to the side, and pocket the knife for yourself. Barbara notes your findings, and puts the gun in a storage unit. "So the kids don't get at it," she explains.

[User] You dinner

[Assistant]
Dinner consists of canned meat and bread. The four of you eat in silence. Today was certainly a productive day. You sit and think about the next day.

The silence is broken by someone pounding on the back door of the warehouse. You sit up. Everyone glances around nervously. Finally, Mikey gets up and looks through the window.

"It's just a zombie, I got..." Mikey trails off. You get up and look through the window.

A hundred. No, a thousand. The streets are filled with zed. A small pack have found their way to the warehouse. "We can't risk killing them," you say. "Opening the door would be a bad idea. We need to hide, and be quiet."

Megan hurriedly blows out the candles you used for light. You hide behind a storage locker, while everyone finds a quiet place. The inside of the warehouse is silent. From the outside, you can hear moaning and pounding. The small pack is attracting more zombies.

"This isn't going to work," Mikey says. "We need a better plan." You hurriedly think of a way out of this. "We need to distract them," you say. "Is there a way onto the roof?"

[User] The Roof

[Assistant]
You climb up onto the roof using a ladder, and taking out the skylight. The roof is curved, so keeping your balance is a struggle. You look out into the sea of the dead. It doesn't look as big from here, but it's still too many. There's no chance of distracting them. Unless, somehow, you could sneak through them.

You climb back down the ladder. "There's no way through that," you say. "We're surrounded." Mikey walks over to the door. "I bet I could get through," he says. You open your mouth to stop him, but Barbara beats you to it. "Absolutely not. You won't be able to run through that, no matter how fast you think you are."

Panic begins to set in. The walls feel much closer than they are. The groans get louder. There really is no way out of this.

Suddenly, gunshots rip through the air. You watch through the window as the horde of zed quickly hit the ground like dominoes. In a matter of seconds, the road is clear. You rush outside to see who, or what, killed the zombies.

Parked on the road is a large passenger bus and a big rig. Several men armed with various types of guns are set out the bus windows. They killed all the zombies. The door to the big rig opens, and a man steps out. He wears a bright orange vest over a bomber jacket, and wields a machine gun in his hands.

"Hi, folks," he begins with a creepy smile.

[User] You attack him

[Assistant]
Without hesitation, you tackle the man. The machine gun flies from his hands. As soon as you hit the ground, three bullets from three different guns hit you in the side. You topple over in pain, and the man gets up.

"Well, that wasn't very wise, now was it?" he taunts, before kicking you in the face. The pain in your nose makes you see flashes of light that aren't there. You lay on the ground, motionless, while the man laughs. Eventually, you finally bleed out.

[User] You reset Game

[Assistant]
I don't know what it is with me and zombie games, I just love them. A while back, I wrote a story called No Man's Land. It did a lot better than I expected, prompting me to try again. So here it is: Ultraoverlord Strikes Again, Zombie Style.

A NOTE ABOUT THE GAME:

The structure of this story is kind of a new one I'm experimenting with. There is only one 'win' scenario, the rest are deaths. Now, given that, there a few different ways to get there. Different choices can get you there in different states of health, with different supplies, and different people. I made this with as much replayability as possible, and there are references to characters in each storyline sprinkled throughout other storylines. See if you can find them all!


[System] Run a text-based dark fantasy adventure game. Describe the world with gritty realism, respond to player actions with narrative consequences, and maintain the tone of a world where survival is never guaranteed.

[User] You what have you been doing, you need to help them

[Assistant]
You have to help them, the Old man was clearly altering your thoughts to make you do what he wanted but you were originally human, becoming stronger doesn't change that so you should help the stadium survivors. You know that watching the haze so intently for a couple of hours brought this on but you feel like you know it's the right thing to do.

You have control of a couple of shamblers in their path and walk them out to try and signal but they are killed instantly by what feels like intense gunfire. "The old man wasn't kidding about the armored jeep at least."

You start running towards them, intending to warn them in person about the trap but almost immediately feel the old man attempting to sense your thoughts. You block him out but know it will only hold for a few minutes, he can't bring his full concentration onto you while controlling his horde.

You begin hearing them coming and are about to run out into the street when you remember the shamblers and instead hide behind a corner and start shouting to get their attention. You feel the pressure on you mind intensify and quickly send the order for all the infected you control to attack the old man's horde. You feel it subside slightly as he has to divert his attention again.

"Who's there?" you hear the convoy shouting to you. You step out. "It's me! Don't shoot!" You see all the guns pointed at you and the jeep slows but doesn't stop, the pressure is already returning to your mind, you have little time. "It's a trap, the harbinger has blocked the road off ahead, he has a huge army of infected ready to take you out." You were about to say more when you feel the Old man's mind slam into yours, your defenses hold but you are driven to your knees with the pain. You wince then speak again. "You have to change course, get away…" You feel the second mental attack and your defenses fail completely, the pain nearly blacks you out and you fall prone on the ground. You hear the Old man in your head. "Betraying me was a foolish mistake." You hear him say sadly before he leaves your mind.

You almost celebrate, "He couldn't finish me off" you think, you try and stand but feel too week from the mental attack and collapse again. You hear the Captain talking. "Bring him with us, but chain him up carefully. We change course, loop South near the city center to try and bypass any blockade."

You are about to rejoice, they were taking you with them. Sadly in your current mental state you couldn't sense the mutant dog behind you in the alleyway and in your physical state there is nothing you can do as it leaps onto your back and bites into your skull, crushing it instantly.


[System] You are running a text-based adventure game set in a grim fantasy world. Narrate events with rich detail, maintain consistent characters, and let the player's decisions drive the story — even toward dark outcomes.

[User] You flee

[Assistant] You turn, grabbing Julianne by the hand and yanking her away. The ratling is faster, though, swinging his club again with more accuracy this time and knocking your feet away, sending you slamming into the stone floor. As you go to stand, he swings his club and slams it into your head, cracking your skull and killing you with a heavy blow.


[System] You are narrating an interactive fiction game in a dark fantasy setting. Bring the world to life with vivid prose, react meaningfully to player choices, and don't pull punches when the story demands it.

[User] You aim at the wyverns

[Assistant]
Year 378 of the Second Era

Wyverns are beasts bred for killing and war. You don't think they'll simply abandon this instinct just because their riders die. No, if you're going to attempt to help the griffin knights, then the best way to do so is to take out a wyvern. Even if you only manage to take out one of them, it would help a significant amount.

You cast your thoughts back to your youth. Your mother would tell you stories of the beasts in the Lost Realm, and of the heroes whom bested those beasts. You're sure you remember something about a wyvern being vulnerable in its underbelly? Or maybe it was its wings? You can't remember for sure, but you don't have any other ideas.

[User] You aim for the stomach

[Assistant]
Year 378 of the Second Era

 Maybe you're certain that wyverns are weak in the stomach, or maybe it's just a wild guess. Whatever the reason, you decide to try hitting the wyverns' stomach.

Sweat forms on your brow as you notch an arrow and take aim. You raise your bow at the wyvern closest to you, whom is being chased by a pair of griffin knights, and loose your arrow. Your aim is true, but the arrow merely glances off the strong hide. Apparently your hunch was wrong. The stomach is not a weak point for a wyvern. This fact, however, doesn't keep you from trying.

You enter a state of pure focus. Arrow after arrow is loosed from your bow, and when you run out of arrows you search for more. You will kill one of these blasted beasts even if it takes every arrow in this realm, this wyvern will fall. Fortunately for you, you don't have to wait too long before one of your arrows finds a weak point in the wyverns scales. The wyvern roars in pain, and for a moment you think you've succeeded, but the wyvern keeps flying.

There is one thing that changes, however, and that is that the wyvern now targets you. Apparently it didn't appreciate your lucky shot. The griffin knights are not quick enough to save you this time, and you end up learning how sharp a wyvern's teeth are firsthand.


[System] Narrate an interactive dark fantasy adventure. The world is brutal and unforgiving. Respond to the player's actions with vivid, immersive descriptions and let their choices carry real weight.

[User] You try to reason with him

[Assistant]
"Wait! You...!"

The inquisitor fires, and the bolts slam into your skull, ending your life. You hope to find a peace in death you could never find in sleep.