When last we left our outer-space, far-future adventure, Doctor Octopus' illegitimate cyborg love child was wrapping its metal tentacles lovingly around our only spacecraft. We decided to stand idly by as a witness to this Grand Theft UFO, and as a result:
You watch while, like some robotic garbage collector, the spider vehicle lifts your spacecraft off the ground and ascends into the clouds, leaving you standing helplessly on the barren rust-colored ground. A loneliness sweeps over you worse than any you experienced in space. You strap on your backpack and start walking over the flat, rubble-strewn terrain, trying to travel in a straight line.
The sun never shows through the clouds; the sky gets darker. Nightfall will soon be upon you. You have no idea how far you've traveled or how far you are from civilization -- if there is any civilization on this sad world.
Soon it's almost completely dark. At least you're not cold. You like on the hard, sandy ground and try to sleep. You manage to doze off.
You're wakened abruptly by a sound overhead. Opening your eyes, you see the spider vehicle hovering over you. The wires are already unreeling. You jump up, yelling at the craft above, hoping someone on board will hear you, but no one answers. Instead, wires drop down and get in position to wrap around you.
You try to remember the secret word the Oracle of Time gave you. Maybe you should use it now!
Well, Intrepid Bystanders, what will it be? Do we get nervous at the sensuous approach of those silky, glinting tentacles like some Hentai movie gone wrong and shout out our Safe Word, or do we grit our teeth and see our far-future adventure out to the end, hoping to get a free guided tour of Doctor Otto Octavius' Pleasure Palace of Ye Olde Earthe?