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What I Said In Another Topic I've Made:
So Y'all May Be Wondering Who I Am But... Is Me Sebastian_Valdez4... This Isn't A Alt Account Or Anything... Today I Just Joined To Play MKPC But For Some Reason I WASN'T On My Account And I Don't Remember My Password AND I Don't Have Discord...

Could Any Of Y'all Please Try To Tell Any Of The Mods So I Can Be In My Account Sebastian_Valdez4 Or I Can't Go Back To That Anymore?

But Besides Those News.. There's Also Some "Kind Of Good News" Which Is That Even Tho I'm Not On My Account Anymore Because Of This.. I STILL Have The QM And CM Tracks I've Made And The Characters I've Unlocked Somehow So Atleast I Can Continue Making Tracks And I Still Have Everything I Was Able To Unlock I Suppose...

But Even Tho Please If Any Of Y'all Can Please Tell The Mods If Y'all Can So I Can Be Back In My Account Sebastian_Valdez4...

"Crazy AI Things" you say? I was talking to google's AI mode, and decided to screenshot the conversation. It's not in order, by the way.














I guess AI really does look too much into things, after looking through the images.

Episode 2

The hallway breathed.

Not metaphorically.

The walls expanded and contracted in slow, wet pulses, like lungs struggling to stay alive. The doors lining either side shifted ever so slightly with each inhale, their hinges creaking in uneven rhythm—as if they were trying to sync with something deeper in the building.

Sebastian didn’t move.

…Don’t open any doors yet.

His voice sounded wrong.

Not just shaken—delayed, like the building had to approve it before letting it exist.

Jake wiped sweat from his forehead, glancing at his own door.

Oh yeah, great idea. Let’s just stand in the flesh hallway and do nothing.

Melissa hugged herself tighter, staring at the floor.

It’s not flesh… it’s not… it just looks like that…

The floor twitched beneath her feet.

Frank let out a low breath.

I’ve worked in some bad kitchens… this smell? This is worse. Way worse.

A faint drip echoed somewhere far down the hall.

Then—

Another voice.

Not theirs.

Not from ahead.

Not from behind.

From inside the walls.

“…open…”

Gordo growled, low and guttural, backing away from the nearest door.

Grrrrrr…

Koroshi crouched, pressing his ear against the wall.

There’s… layers again. Like before. But now it’s… overlapping voices.

Neptuno clutched his DSi tighter.

I don’t like this. I really, really don’t like this…

The DSi screen flickered on.

None of them had pressed anything.

A message appeared:

SAVE FILE CORRUPTED. RESTORE?

Neptuno’s hands trembled.

I didn’t— I didn’t open anything…

The screen changed again.

PLAYER COUNT: 11

Everyone froze.

Slowly… they turned to each other.

Keinieo let out a dry laugh.

Yeah, no. Nope. Not doing this again. We’re all here. I can see you.

Nommanic shook his head.

Sight isn’t reliable here. Memory wasn’t either. Now it’s counting us…

Weegee stepped forward, forcing a grin that didn’t quite land.

Hey, hey— we handled the last puzzle, right? We just gotta figure out the rules again.

Sebastian’s gaze drifted to the open door at the end of the hall.

The one without a name.

Something inside it shifted.

And this time—

It stepped closer.

…We don’t go there. Not yet.

—

A click.

Melissa flinched.

Her door had just unlocked.

No one touched it.

It slowly creaked open.

Inside—

A bedroom.

Soft lighting. Warm. Safe.

Completely untouched by decay.

Melissa’s breath hitched.

…That’s my room.

The others looked inside.

Everything was perfect.

Too perfect.

The bed neatly made. The air still. Even the faint scent of perfume lingered, untouched by the rot outside.

Jake frowned.

Okay, that’s… actually nice. Suspicious, but nice.

Sebastian grabbed Melissa’s wrist before she could step forward.

Wait.

She pulled slightly.

It’s fine. It’s just my room. Maybe this is how we get out—

The mirror inside the room shifted.

Not visibly.

But wrong.

Koroshi noticed first.

Don’t go in.

Melissa stopped.

Why?

Koroshi pointed.

Look at the mirror.

They did.

Everyone’s reflection stood in the hallway.

Except Melissa’s.

Her reflection was already inside the room.

Standing by the bed.

Smiling.

Melissa’s face drained of color.

…I’m not doing that.

The reflection tilted its head.

Then raised a hand.

And knocked on the inside of the mirror.

Three slow taps.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

The real Melissa stumbled back.

The door slammed shut on its own.

Locked again.

—

No one spoke for a long moment.

Then—

Jake’s door clicked.

Oh come ON—

It swung open violently.

Inside—

Darkness.

Total.

Except for a faint metallic glint.

Jake swallowed.

…That’s not my place.

A voice came from inside.

His voice.

You already picked wrong once.

Jake staggered back.

Nope. Nope. Not listening to that.

The darkness moved, stretching toward the doorway like fingers.

Sebastian slammed the door shut.

No one goes into their rooms.

Nommanic nodded slowly.

These aren’t safe spaces. They’re… distortions. Personalized traps.

Frank looked down the hallway again.

Then what’s the goal? We just avoid everything?

The answer came immediately.

From every door at once.

They all creaked open.

—

Inside each one—

Something waited.

Not rooms.

Not memories.

But scenes.

Moments frozen in time.

Some familiar.

Some not.

And in every single one—

Something was wrong.

Neptuno’s screen flickered again.

OBJECTIVE UPDATED:

FIX WHAT WAS BROKEN.

OR JOIN IT.

—

Fix… what?

Sebastian stepped forward slowly, scanning the open doors.

…We don’t have a choice.

He pointed to one.

Frank’s.

Inside—

A kitchen.

Burned.

Blackened walls. Melted utensils. A stove still faintly glowing red.

And in the center—

A figure.

Charred.

Still standing.

Frank’s breathing stopped.

…No. No, that’s not—

The figure turned.

Its face cracked as it moved.

Ash fell away.

Revealing Frank’s own features beneath.

Burned.

Smiling.

You left the stove on.

Frank stumbled back.

I didn’t— I would never—

You might have, Nommanic said quietly. Or you think you might have. That’s enough here.

The burned version of Frank stepped closer.

Fix it.

The stove flared brighter.

The room grew hotter.

The smell of burning flesh filled the hallway.

Frank shook his head violently.

I’m not going in there.

The figure tilted its head.

Then—

It reached out of the doorway.

Its arm stretched unnaturally long, fingers splitting at the joints as they scraped across the floor toward him.

Gordo lunged forward, barking wildly.

RAAAAGH!

The arm recoiled slightly—but didn’t retreat.

It just… waited.

…If I don’t fix it…

It escalates, Nommanic said.

We help him, Sebastian added.

Jake shook his head.

Help him HOW? That thing is literally cooked!

Koroshi pulled out a sticker.

It showed the kitchen.

But different.

The stove was off.

The burned figure was gone.

This might be the “correct” version, he said. We need to make it match this.

Frank swallowed hard.

…So I go in there… and turn off the stove.

The burned version of him smiled wider.

Too wide.

Yes.

Sebastian stepped beside him.

You won’t be alone.

Frank hesitated.

Then nodded.

—

The moment they stepped inside—

The door slammed shut behind them.

The heat intensified instantly.

Sebastian’s skin prickled.

The stove roared louder.

Frank forced himself forward.

Just… turn it off. Just turn it off…

The burned version circled them slowly.

You’re too late.

Ignore it!

Frank reached for the stove.

The handle was fused.

Melted into place.

It’s stuck!

The burned version lunged.

Its hands grabbed Frank’s shoulders—

And suddenly—

Frank wasn’t standing.

He was watching.

From outside his own body.

Seeing himself in the kitchen.

Forgetting to turn the stove off.

Walking away.

The flames starting.

Growing.

Consuming everything.

…No…

You left, the burned version whispered.

Fix it.

Frank screamed—

And forced his hand forward.

Through the heat.

Through the melting metal.

Through the pain that shouldn’t exist.

He grabbed the dial.

And turned.

—

Click.

—

Silence.

The fire vanished instantly.

The burned version froze.

Cracked.

And shattered into ash.

—

The door reopened.

Sebastian and Frank stumbled back into the hallway.

Frank collapsed to his knees, gasping.

I felt it… I felt all of it…

The hallway was quieter now.

One door had closed.

Permanently.

Neptuno’s screen updated again.

ERROR CORRECTED.

REMAINING: 10

—

TEN?!

They all froze.

Slowly…

They counted again.

One.

Two.

Three…

Eleven.

Still eleven.

But the screen insisted:

Ten.

Koroshi looked down at his sticker again.

Now—

It showed only ten figures.

…It’s happening again.

Sebastian’s chest tightened.

Who did we lose?

Silence.

No one answered.

Because no one knew.

And worse—

No one could remember if someone had been standing there just seconds ago.

—

At the end of the hall—

The nameless door creaked wider.

The thing inside stepped closer.

This time—

They all saw it.

It had no fixed shape.

Just shifting pieces.

Faces.

Limbs.

Voices overlapping.

All of them.

Every single one.

You are still late.

You are still late.

You are still late.

You are still late.

All spoken at once.

Sebastian’s flashlight flickered again.

And for a split second—

They saw themselves.

All of them.

Standing inside that room.

Watching.

Waiting.

Smiling.

—

End of Episode 2

Episode 1

They didn’t remember signing up for it.

That was the first thing Sebastian noticed.

Not just him—*all of them*.

The bus was just still in the fog, its headlights still humming weakly as if they had been left on for hours. Or days. The road behind it stretched into nothing, swallowed by a pale gray haze that pulsed like something breathing.

Sebastian tightened his grip on the flashlight.
Does anyone… remember how we got here?

No one answered immediately.

Jake scoffed, adjusting his jacket, though his fingers trembled just enough to betray him.
Yeah, we got on a bus. Not rocket science, kid.

But from where? Melissa snapped, arms crossed, slippers slapping softly against the cracked asphalt as she shifted. I don’t remember the start point. Or the driver.

Frank rubbed his temples, staring at the bus like it had personally wronged him.
My restaurant… I was closing up. I remember locking the door, and then… He stopped. His breathing hitched. Nothing.

Koroshi crouched near the front tire, peeling off a sticker he had apparently just printed—a perfect replica of the bus logo. He frowned.
This logo doesn’t exist. I made it, like, five seconds ago… but it was already there before I printed it.

That’s not funny, Neptuno muttered, clutching his DSi like a lifeline. None of this is funny.

Gordo let out a low growl.

The fog shifted.

And then something *moved inside it.*

—

They found the building because it *wanted* to be found.

It stood alone beyond the road—a massive, decaying structure of warped concrete and blackened windows. No signs. No lights. Just a door slightly ajar, as if inviting them.

Or expecting them.

Weegee wiped his hands on his overalls.
Alright, classic horror setup. We go in, we find a phone, we leave. Easy.

Melissa froze.
No phones.

Everyone looked at her.

No phones, she repeated, sharper this time. We find anything else.

Jake rolled his eyes.
Yeah, sure, we’ll avoid the spooky telephones. That’ll save us.

Nommanic stepped forward, gaze narrowing at the doorway.
Something’s wrong with the space here. It feels… layered.

Keinieo smirked, flipping his craft knife open and shut.
Layered or not, standing out here isn’t better.

Sebastian swallowed, then nodded.
We stay together. No splitting up.

That was the second mistake.

—

Inside, the air smelled like rot.

Not normal rot—something older. Damp walls peeled like skin. The floor creaked in a way that didn’t match their steps.

Every sound lagged half a second behind reality.

Frank noticed first.
Did you hear that?

They all stopped.

A faint echo of their own footsteps continued… even though they weren’t moving.

KFP waved their glowstick slowly, the orange light cutting through the dimness.
…

The glow flickered strangely—like it was being swallowed instead of reflected.

There’s writing, Koroshi said suddenly.

On the wall ahead, scratched deep into the surface:

**YOU WERE LATE.**

Jake snorted.
Late for what?

The message *changed.*

The letters twisted, reshaping with a wet, grinding sound.

**YOU ARE STILL LATE.**

Sebastian’s chest tightened.
We should go.

He turned back toward the door.

It was gone.

—

The first puzzle appeared in a room that shouldn’t exist.

A long hallway had led them there, but when they looked back, the hallway was only a few feet long—ending in a solid wall.

The room itself was circular. In the center stood a metal table. On it: twelve objects.

Each one belonged to them.

Sebastian’s Fire Flower. Jake’s pistol. Frank’s pan. Melissa’s slippers. Koroshi’s sticker printer. Neptuno’s DSi. Keinieo’s Pepsi bottle. Weegee’s toolbox. Nommanic’s Ultra Ball. KFP’s glowstick. And even Gordo sat beside an empty space, whining softly.

Above the table, carved into the ceiling:

**ONLY WHAT YOU REMEMBER IS REAL. CHOOSE WRONG, AND IT WILL REMEMBER YOU INSTEAD.**

Neptuno let out a shaky laugh.
Okay… puzzle. We just pick our own stuff, right?

No, Nommanic said quietly. It’s not that simple.

Sebastian stepped closer. His Fire Flower looked… off. The colors were slightly wrong. Too dull.

Jake grabbed his pistol instantly.
Done. Easy.

The moment his fingers wrapped around it—

The sound of a gunshot echoed.

But Jake hadn’t pulled the trigger.

He froze.

Then slowly looked down.

The pistol was… inside his hand.

Not held.

Embedded.

Metal fused with flesh, stretching his skin unnaturally as the barrel pushed through his palm.

Jake screamed.
AAAAAA—!

The walls *echoed it back*, but distorted—like multiple versions of his scream layered over each other.

“WRONG,” something whispered.

Not from the room.

From *inside* them.

Jake staggered back, clutching his arm, but the pistol was gone again—leaving no wound.

Just the memory.

And the pain.

—

Don’t touch anything, Sebastian said quickly, voice shaking. We have to think.

Frank stared at the pan.
I cook every day. That should be mine… but why does it feel… unfamiliar?

Melissa looked at her slippers, then down at her feet. She was barefoot.
…I was wearing these earlier.

No, Keinieo said. You *think* you were.

Koroshi slowly peeled a sticker from his printer. It showed the room exactly as it was—but one detail was different.

In the sticker, there were only eleven people.

Not twelve.

Someone here doesn’t belong, he said.

Silence fell.

Gordo whimpered.

Sebastian’s heart pounded.
What do you mean?

Koroshi held up the sticker.
Count.

They did.

One.

Two.

Three…

Twelve.

But the sticker still showed eleven.

Neptuno backed away.
Stop messing around—

I’m not, Koroshi snapped. One of us isn’t real.

The writing on the ceiling shifted again.

**REMOVE THE EXTRA.**

—

Panic erupted.

Jake stumbled backward.
You think it’s me? Because of the gun thing?

No one said that, Frank replied, though his voice lacked conviction.

Nommanic’s eyes darted between them.
We’re missing something. Memory defines reality here… so whoever *wasn’t remembered*—

KFP’s glowstick flickered violently.

Sebastian turned to them.
KFP?

They didn’t respond.

They just stood there, perfectly still.

Too still.

…Have they said anything since we came in? Melissa asked quietly.

Silence.

No one could answer.

Because none of them remembered.

The glowstick dropped from KFP’s hand.

It hit the floor with a hollow sound.

And KFP’s body… *folded.*

Not like a person collapsing.

Like paper being crushed.

Their form compressed inward, shrinking, twisting—until there was nothing left but the glowstick.

The room exhaled.

The ceiling text faded.

The door reappeared.

—

No one spoke as they left.

Not about KFP.

Not about the puzzle.

Not about how none of them could clearly remember KFP’s face anymore.

Only that something had been there.

And now it wasn’t.

—

The hallway beyond was darker.

Longer.

And lined with doors.

Each one labeled with a name.

Sebastian.

Jake.

Frank.

Melissa.

All of them.

At the very end of the hall, one final door stood open.

No name.

Inside, something moved.

A voice echoed from within—layered, broken, familiar.

“YOU ARE STILL LATE.”

Sebastian’s flashlight flickered.

And for a split second—

He saw himself standing inside that room.

Smiling.

Waiting.

—

End of Episode 1.


PS. I searched up a LOT of phrases that books use, so please ignore some stuff.