Emalie might be joshin' for some company

Stopping at base camp, you find your jacket slung over a nearby chair. Hopefully, Emalie won't think you're a freak for wearing teal undies.

Then you begin a long trek down a dark corridor.

Finally, the passage opens into a wide open space. There's a bunch of tiny apartments with half their wall missing. In this ocean of - what you're going to dub Squaribles, because they're square and look liveable and not for any other reason at all, like, the name being reminiscent of another term used to describe cube-like rooms where people spend most their life. That would be insane, really, using a word merely for the convenience of anyone capable of reading your mind.

Out in the distance you see a light dancing. Must be Emalie's flash-light.

The Squirible sea ends in a town square littered with deflated, colorful sacks, their bean-like innards spilling out onto the floor. When you try real hard, you can almost imagine the community using this as an area to socialize in. Talking about what's new with you and, no, I will not join your fantasy football league, Tim, stop pestering me. Hey, Claire, how's your creepy coffee project going? A watering hole.

You're making your way across, working your way towards Emalie, and then you're suddenly not. Bump!

"Shiv, you alright!?" Emalie comes running, looking concerned.

"Wha- what just happened?"

"You ran into a glass wall. Some butt-hole put it, like, smack dab in the middle of this square." Emalie holds you by your elbow and pulls you back on your feet. "I've been looking round the thing for a way in... Whatever that noise is, it's coming from that thing in there." She says, pointing to the glass-cage.

Inside the thing is, what you can only guess to be, Town hall. Or someone made a 1:1 scale replica of one, inside an aquarium... Because it's a square glass cage. Wait, how do you know what an aquarium is? You have no idea. Sometimes you get these thoughts and don't think about it too hard. Last time you did that, your nose and ears started bleeding. Better not to.

A long, polished desk, fancy chairs along each side, all converging towards a living display of black ants fighting white ants, hanging on the far end. Either hanging or literally floating mid air. It's hard to see since the glass cage is so crystal clear.

Oh, and there's a goopy thing floating inside a jar on the middle of said desk.

"Why's there, like, a brain in a jar?" Emalie asks.

Horrified, you turn to her and mouth, "Christ, Em. You can't go around saying that. Not okay. Brains have feelings."

Em mouths, "What?" Which works much better, being a single word, rather than an entire sentence.

Shocked, Em half shouts, "Woah! What is that!" Enthralled by the sight of an ant battle. "Looks like... someone stuffed a bunch of gravel and snow in a tumbler and turned it on. I... It's so boring, but I can't look away."

"I know," You say, completely enthralled, "I thought it was two colonies of ants, but I kinda see the gravel and snow thing now."

"The noise is coming from in there," Emalie cups her hand against the glass and presses her ear up. "Yep, like, totally coming from there. Must be loud if we heard it from base camp. But, I just can't seem to find the fricking door!"

"Is this it?" You ask, pulling a small golden handle, opening the door.

"Wow... I spent way too long lo-" Emalie is interrupted by you squeaking in surprise.

When looking through the open door, the Town Hall is a complete mess. Notes strewn everywhere, chairs overturned, the black mirror a large crack creeping across. Despite the damage done on the mirror, it's still hissing the same ant battle you saw from outside. Right, and, the goopey thing in the jar isn't neatly suspended in whatever liquid holds it. Rather, several wires run from it and down into a hole beneath as it floats upwards, bounces of the top, is pushed back a little, then floating back up. Every time it hits the top a tiny bump can be heard.

Wasting no time, Emalie sets upon the cracked mirror. Running her hand long its edges, most likely trying to figure our how to loosen it.

You decide to inspect the notes. You also pocket a free pen. Not quite able to discern why pocketing it fills you with a smug sense of vindication, it takes you actual effort to not stuff your suit full of stolen pens. They're not really anything special. A faded logo on the side - you can't quite make out - and some text spelling, Pleasure Tech and, in a smaller font below, Together we got this!

Bump.

The goopey thing has made another attempt at escaping and bounces back down, distracting from daydreaming about a house made of pens.

You wouldn't blame anyone if they mistook it for a brain. It almost looks like one. Almost. Especially now that the glass cage deception reveals that it isn't as smooth as you'd have thought. Not only does it have that classic sponge-spaghetti look. It also has that brain stem nerve root thing going on. Also, a third half. This is what your group must look like when Mute isn't there. You mushed in-between Emalie and Jorrel, creating this off-putting unnaturalness in a fundamental order.

Emalie jumps back with a yelp as sparks fly from the black mirror. Outside the class-cage overhead lights flicker to life. Both above and below you, running along the edge of the glass cage, lights - you can only describe as mild and smooth - gently powers on.

Then the most awful thing you've ever heard in your life. A musical piece only five notes long. Duh, duh, de, deee, du. Pause. Duh, duh, deee, deeeiii, du. Pause. Repeat. Pause. Repeat. Judging by the look on Emalie's face, she's getting that same urge as you: Attempting awkward small talk to fill the silence and drown out that awful noise.

Thankfully, someone else beats you to the punch!

A cheery voice from the mirror says, "Hi, I'm Rolph! How may I assist you today!"