Eyes down here, dude.

This isn’t just another “oops, you no-clipped” story. It actually has a story which took place on 1989 — January 6th. You’re in Chicago, USA.

Fresh out of college, you somehow landed a job. Yeah, a real JOB. Insurance adjuster for a car company that’s quietly panicking over front seat mounting brackets that never passed the Closer test. If they fail, the car explodes or the car pass 1000 miles. People burn. Alive.

You travel cross-country, inspecting wrecks, writing reports, and crafting excuses. The pay’s good. Good enough to buy a house and fill it with furniture you saw in magazines and tv.

Then came the Los Angeles case. Another accident. Another burned-out shell. You flew out despite the rising number of missing persons in LA and San Diego becasue of unknown reason.

Your flight landed late. You Booked a hotel. Slept. Woke up. Ate. Took a cab to the warehouse that the car was supposed to be there.

Then it happened in the middle of the highway.

The cab no-clipped through the highway. Fell into a black void. then landed on the ground and Slammed into a wall. The driver’s head shattered against the dashboard. You were in the back seat. You hit the front. out.

You wake up. while holding your forehead with your left hand Bleeding. Feeling Dizzy.

Yellow walls. Buzzing lights. Damp carpet.

Welcome to Level 0.

(Now enter the chat...)