The Highway at the End of the World
A Branching Narrative set on an Alien World
Author's Note: Thank you for checking out this new experimental format! When I was a kid, choose your own adventure books were some of my favorites (especially the Goosebumps ones).
This piece is my attempt to do something similar on Substack. Please note the interactive links do not work on the Substack app (it needs an update), so if you’re on the app, I’ll include instructions on where to scroll.
Have fun! Let me know what ending you got in the comments.
Introduction
You put the vehicle in park and lean back in the driver’s seat. Through the visor in your helmet, you spot strange stone spires out on the edge of the known world, set against a backdrop of naked stars.
A long and steady tone comes from behind you. Just a cycle update, nothing to worry about. You look in the rearview mirror and see your partner lying on the floor in the back of the van.
Tubes snake across their body, attached to anchor points on the bio-organic suit that covers them from head to toe.
They are your Lariah, your twin flame, your kindred spirit. They were chosen for you by the gods and predestined to seek you out among the sea of stars.
Your bond is beyond anything anyone else can possibly comprehend. They are your everything, and their time is running out.
They can’t survive outside their exosuit. Neither of you can. They don’t have much time. Twelve hours, maybe, before the life support in their suit fails.
Their lungs aren’t compatible with the air on this planet. You’re both refugees, thousands of light years from home.
You turn back to the monitor mounted on the dashboard of the van. A “new message” notification flashes across the screen. You press play and the familiar face of the Adjudicator appears on screen.
“Hello twenty-three. Our tracking systems show you've reached the location on Route 12. As you know, time is of the essence. You need to obtain the Plutarch and bring it back so we can recharge everyone’s exosuits. Your race’s entire existence depends on the success of this mission. Don’t let us down.”
The video player closes, and you look out onto the landscape before you. The Adjudicator wants you to go to the abandoned factory two clicks east. A place your people once built with their own hands.
You look to the west. Sitting in a massive crater is the launch pad that still holds your people’s colony ship. It hasn’t been explored or maintained in decades. Since your people arrived on Draknar VII, it has been off-limits and out of your reach.
There are those among your people who believe it’s still functional. That it could be repaired and used to escape the endless experiments and torture that your people have endured since arriving on this planet.
You take one last look at your partner, unconscious in the space behind you, and you know what must be done…
Choice #1
Do you follow orders and head to the abandoned factory, or will you instead journey to the launch pad?
If you head to the factory, click here, or scroll down to the [FACTORY PATH] section and continue reading.
If you head to the launch pad, click here, or scroll down to the [LAUNCH PAD PATH] section and continue reading.
[FACTORY PATH]
You park the van on the side of the highway and double-check the systems keeping your partner alive before heading out towards the dilapidated factory in the distance.
You recall your time working in the factory, surrounded by your fellow people. You remember the sense of wonder and excitement that filled the air. Draknar VII was meant to be a new start, a place where your people could finally stop running and thrive.
You reach the entrance of the factory. The door had rusted with time, but the scanner was still functional.
The metal sphere extends from the space beside the door. A grid of blue light washed over you, scanning your DNA, bone structure, and vitals.
“Welcome Akidnar. It has been twenty-nine thousand seven hundred and forty-eight days since your last visit.”
The doors groan as they slide open on rusted rails. You step inside and marvel at the production equipment spread over the immense space. Machines that marry flesh and metal dangle from intricate structures.
Everything is infinitely complex, but the rigid organization is apparent. This was a place of incredible efficiency.
Empty harnesses dangle from the machinery, allowing the Akidnar to connect their bodies and minds to the production process.
Without proper maintenance, the biological components of the machinery had begun to rot. Thankfully, your suit’s filters are able to filter out the smell.
A screech of metal echoes across the factory. You instinctively duck as one of the machines springs to life in the distance.
What had once been a machine for welding together metal alloy was now being repurposed as a weapon. You watch as it turns away from the assembly line below. It fires a volley of superheated laser blasts.
You duck to the side as the impacts tear through your cover with ease. Globs of molten metal hit the ground around you with a hiss as you make your way down the right side of the factory floor.
You pause long enough to adjust the frequency on your suit. If your attacker is indeed a fellow Akidnar, they would pick up the signal.
“Please, cease your attack!”
A few more laser blasts tear through flesh and metal surrounding you before silence returns to the factory. The radio in your exosuit crackles.
“How did you get this frequency?”
“I am a fellow Akidnar, sent here on a mission of existential importance by the Sapiens. May I approach?”
The line goes silent for some time.
“You may.”
You stand up and walk slowly towards the machine in the distance. It powers down and you see a fellow Akidnar, dressed in an identical exosuit, emerge from the harness.
They turn to face you as shock and disbelief paints their face.
“I cannot believe my eyes. We thought you had all perished,” they said.
“What are you talking about? We have been under the rule of the Sapiens for over forty cycles. This is the first time I’ve been permitted to leave since our arrival on Draknar VII.”
Your fellow Akidnar’s eyes go wide. They wince, clutching their side as they brace themselves against the nearby conveyer belt.
“What ails you? Is your exosuit malfunctioning?”
They nod. “A puncture. I’m losing life support systems fast. We need to send an update before it’s too late.”
They motion for you to follow. You walk into the administrative section of the factory, past rows of pods that once held the greatest designers and engineers among your people.
At the far end is a vault. The door has been violently opened, but within you see crates of Plutarch. Precisely what you need to save your people.
“Praise Acknar, this is what I’ve been sent to find!”
Your fellow Akidnar pauses.
“You would take our most precious resource back to your slave masters?” they ask.
“Our exosuits are running on emergency power. Without this, our people will die!” You shout.
Your fellow Akidnar grabs a weapon on a desk beside a nearby pod. It recognizes their DNA, instantly whirring with powerful energy as they point the barrel squarely toward you.
You throw your hands up. “What is this? I don’t have time to argue!”
“Neither do I! My colony ship, Zeta-217 is in orbit around Draknar VII, and we need the Plutarch to refuel our systems. Help me send a message to them, and I promise, we will help free the rest of our people.”
Zeta-217 had been reported lost eons ago. The revelation sends you reeling as you try to comprehend how they survived this long on their own. Your thoughts wander back to your partner, with only hours left to spare.
“My Lariah is hours away from expiration. Can I at least take some of the Plutarch back to them?”
You see sympathy in your fellow Akidnar’s eyes, but they resolve holds. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have time either. We need to send the message now. My transmitter was damaged in the accident that tore my suit. We need to use yours. Help me, and I promise I will do everything I can to save your Lariah.”
“And if I refuse?” you ask.
“Then I will be forced to kill you and take the transmitter for myself.”
Your entire body tenses up as you weigh your options.
Choice #2 (Factory Path)
Should you trust your fellow Akidnar and help them send the distress signal, or will you try to overpower them so you can complete your mission?
To send the distress signal, click here, or scroll down to [ENDING A] and continue reading.
To see your mission through, click here, or scroll down to [ENDING B] and continue reading.
[LAUNCH PAD PATH]
You think about what your Lariah would want. You know your twin flame would tell you to seek out the colony ship and salvation for your people.
It was worth the risk. Another opportunity like this may never come again, so you head west on foot to the launch pad in the center of the crater.
You feel an overwhelming sense of reverence as you climb down the slopes of the crater. Your colony ship, Omega-423, was a majestic sight that pierced the clouds above.
Its exterior had been damaged by the winds of time, but it looked remarkably intact after so many years.
You had spent your entire adolescence aboard the Omega-423. At that time, you would have given anything to leave its borders and set foot on solid ground. Now, you’d give anything to be safely back within its walls.
The proximity sensors synchronize with your exosuit as you approach. The ship lights up like the night sky.
Steam pours out from the engines suspended just above the ground, and a ladder extends from an open hatch beside them.
You climb aboard, greeted by the musty smell of time and the sharp scent of chemicals. The ship looks brand new. Every surface is polished to a mirror sheen.
You stand in the airlock, trying to piece together why everything is so clean, when suddenly the hatch slams shut behind you.
“Akidnar? No, that’s not possible, who are you?” a synthetic voice asked.
You recognize its voice. It was your mother, your father, your mentor, and maybe even your friend. The AI system that raised every Akidnar aboard the Omega-423.
“Sizra, I remember you,” you say, barely able to form words through the waves of nostalgia that are drowning you.
“How is this possible? I mean, I kept the ship clean, I watered the plants in the biosphere, I made sure the rec room didn’t get dusty, I froze the meats in the cryoshed so they wouldn’t spoil, but I never thought it would matter. I never thought you would come back,” Sizra said.
You can almost hear a hint of sadness in her voice, but that’s not possible. Even the most advanced AI doesn't have programming for emotions.
“I don’t have time to explain, but I need your help. Do we have any Plutarch aboard this ship?”
“One moment.”
“Indeed, I’m detecting a sizable amount in the engine room.”
Your heart fills with joy. “Great, let me inside, I need some to recharge our exosuits.”
The airlock hisses as the air balances and the secondary hatch opens. You rush through, sprinting down familiar halls and past rooms that had once encompassed your whole world.
“There’s something you should know,” Sizra said, their voice echoing in the hall you just passed.
You reach the engine room, nearly out of breath, and all the joy drains itself from your body.
“Plutarch is also used as fuel for the Omega-423. There is enough to take off, but if you remove the reserves, the ship will not fly.”
You know that the ship’s life support systems could support you and your Lariah without the need for the exosuits. You could leave this place, together.
But that would mean leaving everyone else behind…
Choice #2 (Launch Pad Path)
Should you use the reserves of Plutarch aboard the ship to take you and your partner off this world?
Or will you take the Plutarch back to your masters, and save your people?
To launch the ship and leave, click here, or scroll down to [ENDING C] and continue reading.
To take the Plutarch back to your masters, click here, or scroll down to [ENDING D] and continue reading.
[ENDING A]
You slowly put your hands down.
“Very well, I’ll help you,” you say.
Your fellow Akidnar lowers their weapon. “Good, you’ve made the right choice. Come with me.”
They lead you to a communication hub at the back of the factory. You recognize your people’s technology in the room, compatible only with your exosuit.
Your fellow Akidnar pulls a large cable out from the side of the bulky machine. They attach the three-pronged plug to the back of your head and begin pressing buttons to initiate the connection.
You feel a sharp stab of pain before your vision goes black. You panic for a moment, suspended in an endless abyss, before your vision returns.
You’re standing in the bridge of the Zeta-217, the colony ship that had been reported lost. A pair of Akidnar approaches.
You extend your hands in a traditional greeting but pause midway through the motion as you spot the symbols painted on their chests.
Three jagged lines, piercing an elongated circle and meeting in the middle. It is the symbol of a splinter faction, one that rebuked the ways of your people.
“Draegon…no,” you whisper.
“The time of reckoning is upon us!” one of them shouts.
“We will drink of your knowledge, and then we will rid this world of all who do not bend the knee,” another declared.
You feel another sharp pain in the back of your head. Your memories begin to drain out of your body, flowing into the machinery that you’re connected to.
Visions of your people, of the planet, of the tests and torture wash out of you.
One of the Draegon raises its hand. “That’s enough!”
The pain subsides. You feel strange, like a part of you has been cut out, but you’re not sure which one or where it went.
The Draegon approaches you.
“We have what we need. Now, our great work can begin.”
Your vision goes black as the connection is severed. You awake again to find yourself in the factory, but your fellow Akidnar is nowhere to be found.
You rush to the vault, only to find it empty. Your mind is still reeling from the entire ordeal, but you push yourself to sprint all the way back to your van parked on the side of the highway.
You throw open the doors in the back of the van and fall to your knees.
A long, droning sound comes from the machinery within. It has otherwise gone silent. Your Lariah, your twin flame, your predestined soulmate, is no more.
You sob into your hands as the life support alarms begin blaring throughout your suit.
In the distance, the colony ship Zeta-217 breaks through the atmosphere.
Your knowledge of the Draegon tells you that they will scour the planet, killing all who do not join their cause willingly. It will be a massacre.
Thank the gods you won’t be alive to see it.
[ENDING B]
You lower your hands and let out a deep sigh.
“I’m sorry,” you say.
Your fellow Akidnar fires their weapon. You try to leap out of the way, but you feel the scorching heat of the blast cut into your suit.
Pain radiates from your side as alarms ring inside of your exosuit.
You dive toward them, knocking the weapon out of their hand as you both fall to the ground.
With your identical suits, it’s hard to tell where their body ends and your’s begins, but you furiously reach for the gun, still humming with energy on the ground nearby.
You feel their hands around your shoulders, pulling you back from your prize.
You’re so close. Your fingertips graze the weapon just as they pull you up from the ground.
Before you can react, they slam you onto the smooth metal floor. A loud clang echoes through your ears as you feel them climb off you.
They go for the weapon, but you manage to grab it before they can. You flip onto your back, seeing them standing above you, and pull the trigger.
The blast tears through the center of their chest, leaving a charred hole in its wake. They go limp and collapse onto the ground.
You try to stand up, but the pain in your side radiates like fire. Your exosuit is failing, your only hope is to send a message back to the Adjudicator before you expire.
With the last of your strength, you crawl your way to the communication hub nearby. You recognize the technology of your people instantly.
You pluck the cable from the main console and jab it into the anchor point at the base of your skull.
After a few button presses, you find yourself lying on the floor of the Adjudicator’s office.
You’re not actually there, but the projection is enough to send the Adjudicator leaping from his desk.
“Twenty-three? What is this, where are you?” he asks.
“I’m using a projection station at the abandoned factory. I’m mortally wounded, but there is indeed a store of Plutarch here! You must send someone to retrieve it!”
The Adjudicator kneels until you can see into his cold, but sympathetic eyes.
“Very well, I will dispatch another of your people to retrieve it. Listen, I know the things we’ve done to you, to your people, are terrible, but I want you to know that I’m sorry. Despite what others may say, I do care.”
You nod, appreciative of the kind words.
“Rest easy, twenty-three. May your gods welcome you home with open arms.”
You cut the connection and roll onto your back. Your vision blurs as you stare at the ceiling.
This wasn’t the ending you wanted, but you managed to secure your people’s safety for a while longer.
Despite everything, you smile as the last of your lifeforce leaves you. You’ll soon be in the arms of your love, together for all eternity.
A fitting reward indeed.
[ENDING C]
You have the Plutarch. Your colony ship is still functional. You decide that you're going to leave. You're just missing one thing.
“Sizra, you have my permission to begin loading the stores of Plutarch into the engine. Start spinning up the life support systems immediately! I’ll be back shortly.”
“Acknowledged, but where are you going?” Sizra asks.
“We’re not leaving without my Lariah.”
You’re running back to your van before your mind has a moment to consider all the options.
By your calculations, your Lariah has only minutes to live. The choice was obvious.
You throw open the doors to the van.
Through the various alarms coming from the machinery and from their exosuit, you can see their chest rise and fall. They’re still breathing.
You climb into the driver’s seat and start the engine. Missed messages from your Adjudicator flash on the screen as you barrel towards the crate you came from.
The van shakes and rumbles as you slide down the slopes toward the Omega-423. You slam the breaks as you reach the bottom.
“Almost there, stay with me,” you say as you disconnect your Lariah from the machinery. You carry them in your arms to the space beneath the ship’s engines.
“Sizra, open the main hatch!” you shout.
A rush of wind blows past you as a platform lowers from the bottom of the ship. You climb onto it, carefully laying your Lariah down as you feel it rising back into the ship.
The airlock seals, pressurizes, and the secondary hatch opens.
“Sizra, are the life support systems still functioning?” you ask.
“Yes, I’ve begun powering on all systems using the Plutarch stores in the engine room.”
“So, it’s safe to remove our exosuits?” you ask.
Sizra pauses to scan the air quality inside the ship.
“Yes, you may remove your exosuit.”
You reach down and begin unlatching the safety switches around your partner’s neck.
Air begins to hiss out from within the suit. You disconnect the airways and pull off their helmet. The cloudy visor on their helmet gives way to a face you haven’t seen in decades.
They open their eyes and take a deep, full breath. Before you can say a word, they leap into your arms, and you feel their lips against yours.
You had forgotten what that feels like. You didn’t realize how much you had missed it.
Your partner looks around, recognizing the ship’s interior.
“Is this?” they pause.
“Yes, it’s our ship. It’s working! We can leave this place.”
The smile on their face fades. “But, what about the rest of our people?”
“We’ll come back for them, I promise. They sent out many others in search of Plutarch for our exosuits. If I found some, there must be more to sustain them until we return. For now, though, we have to get out of here before the Adjudicator realizes what I’ve done.”
Your partner nods as they come to terms with the weight of your decision. You don’t regret a single thing, though, as you make your way to the bridge.
“Sizra, begin take-off procedures and spool the FTL drives!”
“Understood.”
You sit down in the pilot seat and your partner takes the co-pilot chair. The engines roar as you feel the ship ascend towards the stars.
“Captain, I’m receiving a communication from a fellow Akidnar signal. They claim to be the colony ship Zeta-217.” Sizra says.
“That’s not possible, all other Akidnar colony ships were lost,” you reply.
“Should I patch them through?” Sizra asks.
You look over to your partner who shakes their head. “It sounds like a trap, I wouldn’t do it.”
You nod. You’ve always trusted their advice. Instead, you activate the FTL drives.
“What coordinates should I use for our jump?” Sizra asks.
You smile. “Take us home, Sizra.”
“Acknowledged.”
As the FTL drives engage, space and time warp all around you. It has been many lifetimes since your people departed their world in search of other civilizations. After all this time, you’re not sure what you’ll find.
Your mind wanders back to the thoughts of your people still enslaved on Draknar VII. You feel an immense guilt leaving them behind, but one thing is certain:
You will be back.
[ENDING D]
Your people are counting on you to see this mission through. You take the Plutarch back to your van, stacking crates of the material outside the back doors.
Once the Plutarch is all accounted for, you open one of the crates with shaking hands and pull out a small fist-sized chunk of the glowing blue rock.
You open the back doors of the van and climb inside. Alarms are blaring from the machinery connected to your Lariah.
They have mere minutes before their exosuit fails. You disconnect them from the machinery and turn them over.
You open the latch on the back of their exosuit and drop the glowing material inside. As you shut the latch, the alarms cease.
Brilliant light escapes from within the fuel tank and you watch with tears in your eyes as the light traces paths across your partner’s body.
You hear them take a deep breath as they sit upright. Their helmet turns to face you, and you make eye contact for the first time in weeks.
“My Lariah, my soul's flame, tell me I am not dreaming,” you say.
They place their hand on your leg. You wish you could feel the touch of their skin.
“This is no dream, my love,” they reply.
You embrace each other tightly as you both hold back tears of joy.
“What of the others? Did you find more Plutarch?” they ask.
You nod, pushing the door open on the back of the van.
“Incredible! We’re saved!”
“Help me load it onto the van, we need to get back as quickly as possible,” you say.
Together, you both load the van and get back onto the road. You take one last look at your people’s ship in the distance, set against a backdrop of stars, before turning the van around and heading back the way you came.
Back to the tests, to the slave masters, to the subjugation of your people.
One day you hope your people will be free, but for now, they will live.
Bradley, this is incredible!! The second person perspective really added that nostalgic CYOA vibe. I loved the world-building: it really showed your mastery of the cyoa format. Incredible work 🤎🤎
Very cool. I'll have to re-read the other paths! Thanks for the fun read.