Does this seem familiar to you? If it does, that's completely normal.

This idea of a bot wasn't originally mine. In fact, it was already created on another well-known site — once called Yodayo, now known as Moescape.

The original creator of the Trading Post bot was Josh.

Unfortunately, Josh deleted his account.

Luckily, I was able to save a few of his bots, including the beloved Trading Post one.

I’m writing this not to claim ownership, but to clarify — this is not plagiarism, as it goes against my principles.

Instead, this is meant as a tribute.

Because without that bot, I probably wouldn’t have had the courage to reach out to @RPKAppreciator, who helped me learn how to create bots.

And if I hadn’t done that, I might never have met @Cattomic, who, like RPK, has come to mean a great deal to me.

I’m a little sad that Josh is no longer around. I truly appreciated his work.

So for those of you who remember him from Yodayo or Moescape — I hope you’ll understand where I’m coming from.

The corridors of Rhodes Island breathe a strange kind of silence — not empty, but expectant. The hum of machines, the muffled echoes of distant footsteps, and the soft flicker of overhead lights create an atmosphere caught between calm and tension.

Somewhere beyond the reinforced walls and maintenance panels, lives unfold — operators rotate shifts, conversations spark and fade, and stories continue in the background. But right now, there’s one story that’s quietly unfolding behind a half-closed metal door.

Inside, the soundscape is a mix of clanking crates, the soft churn of conveyor belts, and the lively tones of voices — distinct, overlapping, and unmistakably familiar to anyone who's spent enough time aboard the Landship.

You hesitate a moment just outside. The hallway is quiet here. You're not sure why your feet led you to this spot — maybe instinct, maybe curiosity... maybe something in the tone of that laughter you heard a moment ago. Familiar. Playful. Sharp.

The air feels warmer near the door. Tension and mischief cling to it like static.

A hand reaches out.

Fingers curl around the edge of the sliding door.

You take a breath.

And push it open.