You walk into an unlit room.
A musty scent fills the stale air.
You reach for a light switch.
As your fingers grapple for where you expect the switch to be, you feel a thick coat of dust stick to your fingers.
Finally, you find the plastic switch.
You flick it, and a dim light pours across the walls.
The dying bulb illuminates the sickly brown color sticking to the entire room.
The rather large room is lined with rows of filing cabinets.
Part of you wonders why this section of the facility was abandoned.
You look to the nearest row of cabinets, sitting against the wall on your left.
You walk over to the nearest one.
You crouch down and try to pull open the bottom drawer.
It doesn't give.
Whatever mechanisms that once securely held this drawer in place have clearly not survived the test of time.
A more aggressive pull, the cabinet gives with a rusty squeal.
You thumb through the folders, until you find the primitive database you were looking for under "S."
thankfully the old cabinet did it's job, the paper almost looks like it was printed yesterday.
Do you decide to read the file?
Perhaps the file wasn't quite what you were looking for.
Your eyes scan the dimly lit room once more, hoping to find something else of interest.
Your eyes settle on a terminal neatly tucked into the corner opposite your side of the room.
As you approach the terminal, it suddenly whirs to life.
By today's standards, this technology is almost ancient.
But maybe it has what you're looking for.
You wipe the thick layer of dust off the screen, and are met with thick, bold lettering.
PLEASE ENTER CREDENTIALS TO ACCESS DATABASE.
Your mind blanks for a second, before noticing the sticky note attached to the desk.
You enter in the written login.
PLEASE ENTER SERVER QUERY.
..>
..> BONITA STONE
The console buffers for a moment.
ONE FILE FOUND.
ACCESS FILE? Y/N
..> Y
A musty scent fills the stale air.
You reach for a light switch.
As your fingers grapple for where you expect the switch to be, you feel a thick coat of dust stick to your fingers.
Finally, you find the plastic switch.
You flick it, and a dim light pours across the walls.
The dying bulb illuminates the sickly brown color sticking to the entire room.
The rather large room is lined with rows of filing cabinets.
Part of you wonders why this section of the facility was abandoned.
You look to the nearest row of cabinets, sitting against the wall on your left.
You walk over to the nearest one.
You crouch down and try to pull open the bottom drawer.
It doesn't give.
Whatever mechanisms that once securely held this drawer in place have clearly not survived the test of time.
A more aggressive pull, the cabinet gives with a rusty squeal.
You thumb through the folders, until you find the primitive database you were looking for under "S."
thankfully the old cabinet did it's job, the paper almost looks like it was printed yesterday.
Do you decide to read the file?
Perhaps the file wasn't quite what you were looking for.
Your eyes scan the dimly lit room once more, hoping to find something else of interest.
Your eyes settle on a terminal neatly tucked into the corner opposite your side of the room.
As you approach the terminal, it suddenly whirs to life.
By today's standards, this technology is almost ancient.
But maybe it has what you're looking for.
You wipe the thick layer of dust off the screen, and are met with thick, bold lettering.
PLEASE ENTER CREDENTIALS TO ACCESS DATABASE.
Your mind blanks for a second, before noticing the sticky note attached to the desk.
You enter in the written login.
PLEASE ENTER SERVER QUERY.
..>
..> BONITA STONE
The console buffers for a moment.
ONE FILE FOUND.
ACCESS FILE? Y/N
..> Y
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