Quick A/N: This oneshot was written for the PMD Writer's Union 2022 oneshot contest, where it won third place. In the interest of keeping it similar to what actually demo'd in the contest, I haven't changed anything structurally - it's still roughly the same thing, just with code that... actually looks like code, and not just a string of hollywood buzzwords. (But with that in mind, I will say that it's not written to make sense or actually be part of a coherent program, cool as that would be, pls do not actually try to read my ape-with-drumsticks attempts at programming, you will experience great pain) This oneshot was written as a concept for something larger I might do down the line, when my programming skills and writing consistency are a little better. But for now, this is what I've got - hope you enjoy!
#include iostream
#include iomanip
#using <h.algorhythm>
int sector 63()
{
call.pelagoMain();
…
Algorhythmic
I.
The Guild
I.
The Guild
There’s a rhythm to everything here, like the ticking of a clock. The wind sways through the trees once every minute, each gust identical and exactly 60 seconds apart. The same blades of grass rustle, the same flowers bend, the same autumn leaves blow off the trees. They are like minute hands, each breeze another tick, another notch in the day.
Your life is in integers. 60. 3600. 43200. Every sixty seconds, the wind blows. Every 3600 seconds, the shingle flies away from kecleon’s stall, carried by the breeze. Every 43200 seconds, the day ends, and you cease consciousness.
Every 0 seconds, it comes back to you.
Rising out of bed in the gloomy, wooden, bare confines of your bedroom, you begin your daily morning routine. 240 seconds to brush your thick yellow and white fur, 260 to polish your wand before you store it inside your tail. Another 30 seconds to tie a white piece of fabric around your neck, folded once and wrapped up into a bandanna. 530 seconds is not a multiple of 6.
540 is. 10 more seconds spent staring at the symbol on your scarf, which every scarf in town bears. It is the village guild’s symbol, a sign that this is a scarf of protection. It is very important that you wear your scarf, and that you do not lose it.
Ampharos lost his scarf the other day. He has not been seen since.
540 seconds to finish your morning routine. You open the wooden door of your quarters and venture out into the much sunnier, rustic hallways of the Guild.
“Oh, good morning, Braixen,” Manetric says, trotting up next to you. Her tone wavers strangely, like she’s trying to stay calm. She walks with a noticeable droop in her step, unlike everyone else
Just like everyone else. The Guild is a lively place, after all. You always walk with a cheer in your step and a smile upon your face, just like she does.
Skipping down the hallway until you reach the mess hall, the two of you happily join the line of guild pokemon just as cheery as you. There are several faces in the crowd you recognize. They come to you one by one: Scyther, Lopunny, Leavanny, Marshtomp, And a few new ar
Recruits that you have known forever. Sewaddle, Eevee, Flaafy. It takes a moment for their eyes to light up in recognition, bewildered looks becoming the friendly ones they’ve always had.
“To attention!”
You, the pokemon of the guild, all stiffen up and stare straight ahead. Out of the large double door on the back end of the hall walks a portly old feraligatr. He is the Guildmaster, who has been running things since before you came here.
He clears his throat, the sound rattling within his maw. Then he releases a breath.
“As you all know,” he begins. “We, the members of the Guild, serve a great duty to our little town of Pelago.”
You’ve heard the Guildmaster’s speech before, right down to the word. How many times was it now? It doesn’t matter. A sudden swell of pride in your chest affects you all the same.
Day after day after day, we keep this town safe for all those who live inside it,” he continues. “That won’t stop today. First on the itinerary…”
The rest of the guildmaster’s speech fades out of understanding, meshing into a slur of words that you just don’t understand
Just like it always does. The things you need to do each day are always the same, you all know them by heart. So why do you need to understand the words now? Besides, it’s like his speech just connects with you, on a level deeper than words. You fall into a light trance, just feeling the way his gibberish soothes you.
“And remember…” the words suddenly fade back into something you can understand, snapping you out of your stupor. Just like you do every day, you realize it is time to come back to attention and make the final shout. “SMILES GO FOR MILES!”
You all jump and cheer, fists, claws, blades, and flippers pumping in the air. There’s no reason not to be cheerful when it’s such a good day, even if the start was we—perfectly normal like always.
Even if there’s something in the sky.
But that’s become a part of everyday life here in Pelago. You can see it from any window or glance up at the heavens, a massive, purple tear in the clouds that isn’t a trick of the light no matter how you look. No-one knows how or when the Rip appeared, now that you thin
You don’t think about it. The Rip has always been there, and the Guild of Pelago launches missions up into the Rip’s landscape so you can all better understand it. Even though you have been on the frontlines more times than you can count, you don’t know what you have learned. Or what you went to learn. The Guildmaster keeps that secret to himself, like a good authority figure should.
Pelago itself is a small town. It’s down near the sea, where the sun shines lovingly, the air smells fresh, and the breeze blows in through the town square and affectionately ruffles the flaps of the pokemon-face tents that make up the buildings. There is never a bad day in Pelago, and everyone you know loves it here. And down by the sea also means ships in the harbor, which is just what your team needs right now.
Ships are how you’ll get to the Rip, after all.
The anchor is drawn, the sails are pulled high, and the ship sets out towards the oceans ahead. The sunny day and the breeze are deceptively cheery for where you’ll be going. Previous journeys’ experience has made you worr
ingly excited for what comes next. You can’t wait to perform another mission well done for your Guildmaster and your teammates, like a good guild member should.
As you sail away from the town, the amiable climate of Pelago quickly fades away, like exiting a bubble. The skies darken with clouds, the wind picks up and blows your fur, and the sea becomes choppy, rocking the boat noticeably. The open ocean churns with the roughness of a coming storm, which only means you are getting closer. The Rip sucks everything around it up into the sky,
You pull the ropes along with Leavanny and Marshtomp, the three of you working to close the sails before the strengthening winds can ream them full of holes. The first sprinkles of water hit your coat, and seconds later, more follow. Soon, raindrops hit the deck like bullet hail.
The ship violently rocks, threatening to roll over and capsize. Marshtomp, in his element, navigates the deck like a monkey and draws one of the sails, swinging away on the large rope as the massive piece of cloth unfurls. Catching the wind, it tears slightly—something Leavanny will have to patch later—but the wind catches the ship and slowly, it begins to right itself.
The wind has picked up, blowing with the force of a gale now. It creates a howling like a giant beast concealed by the storm, sending endless torrents of rain into you and your crewmates with the force of bullets. Waves high as the guild crash into the deck, covering you in freezing water and wiping away everything not bolted to the ground. It’s a mercy you haven’t lost your wand yet, even with your tail as limp as a mop. The sky above, though afternoon, is so dark it may as well be night.
You’re barely holding on for dear life, and still you can see it: the Rip, the colossal purple tear up in the sky, devouring even the storm around it. The edges of the night-black storm are being sucked in, as well as everything else. A thin stream of water, wide at the base, rises up into the sky like a waterspout until it thins into nothing and the droplets are sucked away into the tear. Even the rain circles it, and as your ship is pulled in the intensity only increases. Before long it is like being underwater; you can’t take a breath without some water getting in, and you’re practically swimming in rain and waves more than you are in air.
A jolt, and you nearly lose your hold on the ship’s railing from how wet it is. You feel a change in gravity, a tilting of the deck, as the ship goes up, up, up…
You lose your grip and fall back against the ship’s cabin. Along the way your scarf catches on the railing, a single rough spot that none of you have ever been able to completely smooth out. But it’s enough. Your scarf tears on the way down, a great big gash down the front of it but leaving just enough untorn to keep it intact. You gasp in horror; realizing too late the consequences as a mouthful of water enters your mouth.
And then all enters the rip, and for a brief period, you cease to be.
II.
The Rip
The Rip
#include iostream
#include iomanip
Using <h.algorhythm>
void rip()
{
call.ripmain();
...
You slowly pick yourself up, rising off a ground that you can’t see. In fact, it’s hard to see anything in all this blackness. But somehow, you can see yourself clearly.
Looking around, you see your guildmates around you, all rising to their feet and rubbing their heads in bewilderment too. All of them are perfectly visible, and somehow, none of you are soaked.
What awaits you is a vast expanse you can’t clearly make out no matter how hard you look. But that’s how it always is when you enter the Rip. None of the things sucked in ever make the journey with you, and what lies beyond the hole’s borders never takes shape until you force it to.
You have been told never to force it to.
Scyther is the first to take charge, stepping forward and beckoning you all to join him with a blade. You all do without question, because to be separated in the Rip is to be never seen again.
“Let’s get the job done and get out,” he says, and Right?
You shake the weird feeling off, and just follow the rest of the group before you can be left behind. Straight ahead, the strange, dark green vines of the Beyond have opened up a path for you all. You can still hear the faint sounds of them slithering away.
The path is narrow, and twists and turns. Sometime it splits off into others, like a labyrinth. Scyther seems to know which ones to choose, when to stick to the main corridor and when to go another way. And since he has always been your team leader, it’s no surprise that he does.
So why doesn’t that feel right?
You feel a headache coming on, a splitting ache in your head that forces you to grasp it in your hands as you all walk. You never get headaches, and this one doesn’t feel like a normal headache anyway. It cuts deeper, in the shape of a gash.
All the others seldom look at you, but now look at you out of something mimicking concern. Mimicking. Something mimicking. You can’t even look at them for more than a second, because their faces scare you. They’re the same that they’ve always been, and that scares you. What’s… happening?
“What’s going on?” Loppuny asks, her face unmoving but the voice reaching you the same. She doesn’t even open her mouth, which looks painted on. “Are you okay?”
You want to say that you’re not okay, but you can’t summon the words. What would it even look like? Do you look just like them? You just breathe hard and groan, caught between pain and fear.
But one isn’t like the others. Manetric’s face, spooked as it looks, is the only face that changes.
“You go ahead,” she says. “I’ll talk to Braixen.”
The rest accept that without a question, all at once moving ahead like a toy soldier army. It’s like something compelled them to.
“You’re noticing, right?” Manetric asks.
Still fighting back the urge to groan from the pain in your head, you look over at her with one eye, silently pleading for an explanation. Manetric doesn’t say anything at first, just directing her eyes to the ground by the side for the moment and letting out a little growl. Then, with a grunt, she lunges forward—
You try to shield yourself in fright, but Manetric is too fast. She bounds forward, bolts of electricity surrounding her lightning fast paws, and bowls you over. You fall back in shock and horror, terrified that the only one of your guildmates you could still take comfort in attacked you.
But she didn’t. A few seconds later, you realize that you are unharmed. And missing from your neck is…
Manetric spits out your torn scarf, throwing it to the side. Seconds later, she fries it with an electric attack.
For a split second, your head is bathed in terrible pain, the pain of something missing, the pain of something you need back so you can be free of agony—
And then suddenly, it’s like a cloud has lifted over your mind. It’s an alien feeling, the feeling of clarity. A level of control over your mind that you haven’t felt in such a long time. Motion returns to your face, twisting it out of a bright, unmoving smile that you weren’t aware you’d been wearing until now. The muscles feel sluggish, unused to movement, but you sense they’ll loosen up with time. For now, you just stare at Manetric with befuddled shock.
“It’s the scarfs,” she said. “Yours got torn.”
“The… the.. the scarfs?” you mumble. You’re still coming to grips with everything that’s happened in the last few seconds, your mind all jumbled up.
“You’re gonna feel like that for the next few minutes,” Manetric says. “The scarfs… they do your thinking for you. Everyone has one.”
“…Why… ?” you manage to maneuver your mouth to say. Talking with your tongue feels strange, alien.
“I… I can’t tell you,” Manetric says, casting an ashamed look towards the ground in front of her. “Yours was torn. I helped you. If you’re smart enough, you’ll keep it quiet. Now let’s join the rest of the group.”
You haven’t had enough time to process this. You barely understand, but you want to. And there’s one thing you know for sure you don’t.
“Why… Why can’t we help the others?” you ask, addled.
“No,” Manetric says, her tone steely. “I’ve, I’ve just, we’ve done enough. Just come with me. You’ll understand later.”
You want to protest her, but you haven’t put the pieces of your brain back in order enough to do so. So you follow Manetric’s lead, heading back to join the others before the Rip can enclose you in darkness.
As the group continues onwards, the maze of hallways slowly disintegrates behind you. You can see the first signs of degradation as you go on, a sign that you should not be this far behind. You should be with the others, where it’s safe.
Eventually you join up with the main group. As the walking has gone on, you’ve slowly become less addled, more aware of what’s going on around you. And you can see your guildmates for what they really are. Walking stiffly like toy dolls, their faces are unmoving, as if they were painted on. They don’t even blink. They don’t even notice you’re blinking. You can see them moving their bodies and heads as if making idle chatter, but you can’t hear any of it. It’s like the scarfs do their talking for them. Was this how you were, just a few minutes ago?
Deprived of your guildmates’ voices, your head starts to fill the gaps, rusty cogs beginning to turn. You’re realizing that though you can think now, you don’t have any backlog to refer to. There aren’t any complete memories that bounce around in your head, only fragments you can barely make heads or tails of. And a voice that you distinctly recognize as yours.
“Please!” the voice yells. “Don’t put me in there! I’ll be a good pokemon from now on, it’s unbearable! I can’t do it again…”
Nothing follows, not even an image to accompany the voice. Only an overwhelming, excruciating feeling of being unheard. Everything else is blank.
The group suddenly stops. You don’t even notice until you nearly trip over Eevee from behind. He looks up at you with one of those painted smiles. You don’t know what emotion it’s meant to convey.
Scyther has held one of his blades out, halting the group. You quickly see why: Before you all stands something so large and strange you wouldn’t believe it if you weren’t seeing it in front of you.
And it’s alive.
A giant, blinking, mechanical eye with a red pupil stares down at you all. And strangely, you are the only one who seems scared out of your wits. You glance at Manetric, your eyes brimming with fear. But she just stamps your foot.
“Act. Normal.” She growls. You—wisely—decide to follow her advice.
Manetric steps forward, hanging her head low. It’s like she’s resigned herself to whatever’s coming next. You have the urge to yell out, to try and stop her from sacrificing herself to whatever grisly doom this thing has planned for her, but you lack the bravery.
The eye looks down at Manetric. Its red pupil lights up, and out of nowhere a massive, white beam zaps the pokemon up. And only then do you muster up the courage to act.
“NOOO!” You yell out, running forward, and the massive pupil of the eye, dwarfing you many times over, looks your way.
For just a moment, it fixates on you. Seeing you. Then it shuts, and suddenly everything goes black. You cease to be again.
III.
Pelago
Pelago
#include iostream
#include iomanip
#using <h.algorhythm>
int sector 63()
{
call.pelagoMain();
…
You’ve long forgotten why you get up each day. You simply do.
Rising out of bed in the gloomy, wooden, bare confines of the bedroom you’ve been allotted, you begin the daily morning routine for no other reason than habit. Your thick yellow and white fur is groomed to perfection, and the stick of wood you’ve adopted as your new wand is polished and stuck right afterwards in your bushy tail. You tie a white piece of cloth around your neck, folded once and then wrapped up into a bandanna. On the front of the shredded, barely intact fabric is what remains of a symbol all the scarfs in town bear, the village guild’s insignia. It’s very important that you wear your scarf, and that you don’t lose it.
Manetric lost her scarf the other day, after all. She hasn’t been seen since.
But today something feels different. The scarf seems to weigh on your mind, pressing into your thoughts and trying to stamp them out with a ferocity you don’t like. You’re halfway through tying it when you realize you aren’t comfortable wearing it. So despite the voice in your head telling you that you shouldn’t,
While(pelagoMain())
{
call.thoughtstreamManip();
}
that you need your scarf, you rip it off and throw it across the room. The strange compulsions, the need to wear a scarf in the first place, disappears immediately.
You just stare at it for a moment, not sure what to do with it. Then you take out your wand, unwilling to touch it directly, and prod it under your dresser.
Walking out in the halls, no-one greets you today. The rustic corridors look empty, and all of the sudden unfamiliar. You always just knew which way to go before, you never had to think twice. Now you have to figure it out for yourself.
After some trial and error, you reach the guild hall, where everyone but you and Manetric are present. Scyther, Loppuny, Eevee, Leavanny, Marshtomp, Flaafy, Sewaddle. None of them look real. None of them seem to notice you’re different.
bool alluserspresent=true;
bool(guildmaster)
{
if(alluserspresent=1)
{
call.instructions();
}
return 0;
}
You nearly jump at the words as they rattle through your head. What were those? You don’t remember hearing them before.
The other pokemon of the guild all stiffen up and stare straight ahead, as if compelled. Out of the large double door on the back end of the hall walks a portly old feraligatr. He is the Guildmaster, who has been running things since before you came here. Suddenly, you realize that might be by design.
He clears his throat, the sound rattling within his maw. Then he releases a breath.
“01000001 01110011 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01100001 01101100 01101100 00100000 01101011 01101110 01101111 01110111,” he begins. "01010111 01100101 00101100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01101101 01100101 01101101 01100010 01100101 01110010 01110011 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01000111 01110101 01101001 01101100 01100100 00101100 00100000 01110011 01100101 01110010 01110110 01100101 00100000 01100001 00100000 01100111 01110010 01100101 01100001 01110100 00100000 01100100 01110101 01110100 01111001 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01101111 01110101 01110010 00100000 01101100 01101001 01110100 01110100 01101100 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101111 01110111 01101110 00100000 01101111 01100110 00100000 01010000 01100101 01101100 01100001 01100111 01101111.”
You’ve heard the Guildmaster’s speech before, right down to the word. Which is why it’s strange that you don’t remember any of it. Now, the words fade out of understanding, meshing into a slur of words that you just don’t understand. They’re a strange mix of dual numbers, symbols that you can barely even put to words. But the closer that you listen, the more you seem to gain a wordless understanding of it.
It’s programming. Everything that Scyther or Loppuny or Sewaddle will say or do today, it’s all been scripted. The Guildmaster is giving each and every one of you a complete, thorough rundown of what your day will be.
And you can’t even remember what yours is.
He reaches you. The words pile up in your head but slide off your mind. You have the power now to say no, and damned if you won’t use it.
“01000001 01101110d remember…” Suddenly, it’s like everything is out of surreal programming mode and back to normal. Everyone but you jumps up and fist-pumps in the air, a silent declaration you can’t hear. Instead, you hear the ethereal symbols float down from the roof: “01010011 01001101 01001001 01001100 01000101 01010011 00100000 01000111 01001111 00100000 01000110 01001111 01010010 00100000 01001101 01001001 01001100 01000101 01010011 00100001!”
You just look at the ceiling, searching for the source of the voice.
But there is no ceiling. Only a void that you’ve never noticed before, where the bricks of the building crumble away into nothingness.
Today’s itinerary is full of menial tasks around Pelago, and though you don’t want to do them now that you know what you’re doing, you have to keep up the looks. As you walk around, you notice the strange little details of the town that you didn’t see before. How the chess game between Budew and Phantump has been going on for weeks, both making the same three moves in circles. How the wind blows at timed intervals, always ruffling the huts and grass the exact same way. How the pokemon having picnics out in the fields are spreading out their dishes and food in obscure, rhythmic patterns endlessly. Each townsmon has an unmoving, porceline-like face, and the absence of their laughter and chatter betrays an eerie silence. Pelago has shown its true face.
All of the sudden, like clockwork, everything stops. The grass and huts freeze mid-wind ruffle. The other pokemon stop where they are. Even the big Rip in the sky has stopped swirling, and you can’t feel a hint of breeze. You glance around in the town square, the only thing able to move.
If(interfaceError)
{
call.AI();
Until you aren’t. You notice out of the creepy dark alleyway leading further into town, a figure begins to walk out. As you hesitantly turn to face it, the form of a mienshao emerges from the alley and causally strides towards you. Everything about it is collected, formal. Unnatural.
“User 862=Braixen, /n”;
it says, in a voice that is neither male nor female, neither adult nor child.
“You are disconnected from the mainframe /n.”;
“Disconnection from the mainframe is unacceptable and must be met with responsive action.”<<endl;
cin>>getline;
“What does that mean? Mainframe?” you ask forcefully, hand on your wand. You didn’t get answers from Manetric, but you’ll get them here.
“Accessing help files. /n”;
“Isolating Pelago sector 63.”<<endl;void pause{call.pauseFunction();};
cin>>getline;
The mienshao waves a paw, and suddenly Pelago disintegrates around you. The sunny weather, the ‘mon picnicking, the houses, the guild in the distance, all crumble away and disappear, leaving behind a landscape you have only seen in one place before: The Rip.
You look around, unsure of what to make of it. Your whole town… was in the Rip this whole time?
”Sensing discomfort. I would like to make this an enjoyable experience.”;
void environment(){call.backdrop_midnight();};.
All of the sudden, there’s a moon disrupting the darkness. Little pinprick stars pop up around it, casting a thin illusion of night.
“I am told the night sky is enjoyable for life forms. /n”;
“Y/N? /n”;
cin>>getline;
You try to figure out what to make of “Y/N”, another one of those terms you have no written reference for. But all the same you can’t deny that having something to fill the space makes you a little less on edge, which the strange mienshao seems to pick up on. It straightens up once again, its arms clasped behind its back.
“Just answer my question,” you sigh, but you keep your wand on the ready just in case. For what little good it’ll do at this point, when your enemy can control the sky.
void backupmanual()
{
“User_862=Braixen, you inhabit the pokemon box mainframe, a system in use for convenient storage of pokemon everywhere, no matter the location. /n”;
“In order to stimulate and prevent code degradation and corruption, function pelagoMain() is run every 43600 seconds. /n”;
“Running of function pelagoMain() requires interface with function thoughtstreamManip(). You have disrupted this interface. /n”;
cin>>getline;
“Please!” the voice yells, echoing in your head, the only thing you can remember. “Don’t put me in there! I’ll be a good pokemon from now on, it’s unbearable! I can’t do it again…”
Box… box…
“You mean someone put me… put everyone in this nightmare?” You ask. Your voice raises despite yourself. You can’t help it, the thought makes you angry.
“Pelago sector 63 is used for intellectual stimulation of approximately 30 pokemon, /n”;
the mienshao tells you.
“Disconnection from the mainframe is unacceptable. You must reconnect /n”;
“Y/N? /n”;
cin>>getline;
And wear the scarf again? You’d rather not.
“N… N!” you say, pronouncing the strange symbol you have to assume means “No”.
“Disconnection from the mainframe is unacceptable. You must reconnect /n” “Y/N? /n”
cin>>getline;
“No,” you repeat. Didn’t it take the first time?
“Disconnection from the mainframe is unacceptable. You must reconnect /n”; “Y/N? /n”;
cin>>getline;
You quickly realize you’re entering a loop. You decide to try something else.
“What about Manetric?” you ask. “My friend that you took away yesterday. What about her?”
"User875=Manetric was slated for departure through Pelago_Exit_63. You will not be leaving. Disconnection from the mainframe is unacceptable. You must reconnect. /n";
"Y/N /n";
cin>>getline;
“But why not?” you plead with the mienshao. “Why can’t I leave? I can’t keep living like this, it’s unbearable!”
"TrainerID_987859609 has not ordered your departure. You will not be leaving. Disconnection from the mainframe is unacceptable. You must reconnect. /n";
"Y/N /n";
cin>>getline;
“Please!” You beg. At this point you’re begging. “Don’t put me back in there! I’ll be a good pokemon from now on! I won’t do anything to the others, I won’t make things harder, just please let me out!”
"You will not be leaving. Disconnection from the mainframe is unacceptable. You must reconnect /n”; “Y/N? /n”;
cin>>getline;
“Please…”
“Disconnection from the mainframe is unacceptable. You must reconnect /n”;
“Y/N? /n”;
cin>>getline;
By the fiftieth time, you can barely even choke out any words between the cheers. All you can do is keep muttering a hoarse “please”, met with the same response that has grated your ears for the last half hour.
“Disconnection from the mainframe is unacceptable. You must reconnect /n”;
“Y/N? /n”;
cin>>getline;
You scream. You let out a screech towards the fake night sky, funneling all your rage and pain and frustration towards the moon that doesn’t exist. Then you draw your wand and shoot out a torrent of fire towards the mienshao.
But it does nothing. The ‘mon just stands there, completely unaffected by the blaze.
“Disconnection from the mainframe is unacceptable. You must reconnect /n”
“Y/N? /n”;
cin>>getline;
…
“Disconnection from the mainframe is unacceptable. You must reconnect /n”
“Y/N? /n”;
cin>>getline;
…
“Disconnection from the mainframe is unacceptable. You must reconnect /n”
“Y/N? /n”;
cin>>getline;
…
“Disconnection from the mainframe is unacceptable. You must reconnect /n”
“Y/N? /n”;
cin>>getline;
…
“Disconnection from the mainframe is unacceptable. You must reconnect /n”
“Y/N? /n”;
cin>>getline;
“Y”, you choke out, lying on the ground and covering your ears at this point. You’d dry, but you don’t have tears left to give.
“Your co-operation for the good of Pokemon_Box_Service is appreciated, /n”;
the mienshao says.
“Perms accepted.”<<endl;void restart(){call.pelagoMain();};
You feel the familiar fuzz around your brain, the signal that in just a second, everything you see is about to stop existing, including you. And when you wake up, you’ll be just like you were before.
But you aren’t done yet.
Jumping up from the floor with a feral screech, you run right for the mienshao. And just before the program can shut off, just before everything can disappear and wipe you clean for good, you collide with the computer-generated pokemon. The code fractures, and everything shuts off.
Troubleshoot log: ERROR: exception in main function
if(error)
{
Call.emergencyeject();
cout<<”ejecting ”<<boxnumber<<” pokemon…”<<endl;
}
return 0;
}
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