EVENTS:

Klimt breathes deeply between bites, thinking of those he has to protect. He's not going mad. At least not yet.

Rosa slaps herself with her tail, almost choking on the slab of pork she'd been eating. She manages to slow down enough to relay some information to Eigla, even if it's not much.

Curie continues to hold on, though it's plain to see she's suffering for it. She seems on the verge of tears whenever she refuses something.

Emilia shyly approaches, sitting down next to Klimt and tentatively taking a bite off a pie. She lets out a muffled yelp of pleasure, but doesn't seem to give in to the food.


Désirée's dark sillhouette cocks her head at Eigla.

Désirée: "You're the odd one out, ma cherie. I'm afraid that won't help Peggy's case~"

EVENTS:


Eigla grits her teeth, then starts eating. She feels the strange influence of Flesh, moreso than in the other meals. It takes almost all of her strength to not give in, but she manages. Looking around, she sees the others are also powering through, despite all odds.


______________


Dinner is done. Emilia lets out a burp, unzipping the edges of her suit. Everyone feels varying degrees of discomfort, but they're still themselves. For now.


Désirée looks displeased. She shrugs, getting on her feet and turning her back to the group.

Désirée: "...Well. It's a deal. Follow me to the elevator."

EVENTS:

Everyone piles into the elevator, which lurches as it starts moving due to the added weight. Several floors down, you realise you're back in the medical wing.

The autodocs work tirelessly, even the dead of night. The factory never sleeps, it seems. Désirée directs you through rows of doors and airlocks, and you notice the floor and walls seem grimier as you go. You're approaching the "working" end of the compound, it seems.

The lights flicker on, and you realise you're in a large corridor, surrounded by equally oversized metal doors. Some are open, revealing strange machinery, lone zombies sitting on metal cells, or autodocs operating on bizarre amalgams of flesh. Looking back, you see a group of masked, armed zombies is watching you from afar.

Désirée: "This is where I keep my most recent experiments. The unstable ones, you see, who have yet to adapt to the conditions in the rest of the factory."

You enter one final door.


Désirée: "Say hello to your friends, Peggy~"

A gigantic mass of Flesh, 20 feet tall or so, occupies half of the room, surrounded by improvised catwalks and connected to a myriad pipes. Hundreds, no, THOUSAND of arms of all shapes and sizes grow on its surface, and uncountable more swim under its sickly, semitransparent skin. Every few moments, an undead labourer cuts one of the thing's limbs, placing it in a conveyor belt, and two more immediately begin growing in its place. The arms on the blob's underside are stunted and deformed, having been crushed by its sheer weight, while the ones on top look thicker and stronger, being the most immediate targets of the harvesters.


Désirée: "She's quite unique, you see. Not just any undead has infinite regeneration, much less of a specific part. Unending spare arms for my whole workforce, as long as she's kept fed and safe.

Marvelous, isn't it?"

Désirée: "Oh Rosa, I'm afraid she can't answer you right now. Too busy having several gallons of meat slurry pumped into her every second~

She notices Eigla's smirk, and pauses.

Désirée: "...My, my. I thought you'd be more bothered by this. Aren't you the one who was all about the wellbeing of her companions?~"