~ start c9479f7c-0c2a-4f58-abd1-660cdbcfe25b
if is_quest_accepted
	if are_quest_requirements_met
		Azra: Side of the building, keypad by the frame. The old code's on the sheet. [#end]
			Read it. Key it exactly. Old machines forgive nothing.
	else
		Azra: You lost it? The sheet that says NEVER WHERE A PLAYER CAN SEE?
		- Yes, I'm sorry [#get_lost_quest_items]
			Azra: *He copies it out fresh, block letters, and presses it into your palm. Again.* [#end]
				A record only dies with its last copy. You came closer than you know. Go.
else
	Azra: *The terminal's amber glare sits over his shoulder: INSERT CARD. Azra is grinning at it like it said something clever.*
		A membership card. Personalized, mag-striped, printed at the counter in there by somebody who's been dust for decades. Every card that ever walked out of this place walked into the war.
	Azra: But nobody who actually ran a place like this waited on cards. Shift kids. A service door round the side.
		Every system has official rules and real ones. The real ones get written down where the manager can't see.
	Azra: *From a salvage crate: a service binder, swollen with damp, an arcade-strip stamp on the spine. Pressed flat inside the cover, a strip of masking tape.*
		The old operator's code. Written down by somebody who was told not to write it down.
		Everything that survived the war survived because someone made a copy they weren't supposed to. This one's ours now.
	- Why not key it in yourself?
		Azra: *The grin goes somewhere else.*
			The last time I went through a door marked DON'T, it cost me everything but my name. I made promises.
			The tape goes in your pocket, not mine.
	Azra: [#quest_info=9c332521-0ade-4ff6-8d76-473a5b3e7afe]
	if is_quest_accepted:
		Azra: [quest: accepted] [#end]
			*He presses the tape flat into your palm.*
			The old code. Side door, keypad by the frame.
			Read the sheet. Key it exactly. Old machines forgive nothing.
	else:
		Azra: [quest: declined] [#end]
			*He smooths the tape back into the binder.*
			It survived the end of the world. It'll survive you thinking it over.
=> END

~ start 58d4556c-b6f2-4999-9036-4d9f78487b9e
if is_quest_accepted and are_quest_requirements_met
	Narrator: *The service door sits in the building's shadow, unmarked. Beside the frame, a keypad: four arrow keys and two letter keys, B and A, all six worn to shadows by gloved thumbs.*
	- Key in the old code => door_1
	- Come back later
		Narrator: *The keypad keeps its small amber glow behind you.* [#end]
elif is_quest_accepted
	Narrator: *The keypad waits by the service door, patient as furniture. Six worn keys and, without the sheet, no order to press them in.* [#end]
		*Azra will have another copy.*
else
	Narrator: *A squat pre-war building, windows boarded from the inside. VIRTUAL ARENA in dead channel letters. Through the wall, faint and regular, something holds a note and lets it go.* [#end]
=> END

~ door_1
Narrator: *The pad waits. First presses.*
- Up, up, down, down => door_2
- Down, down, up, up => door_fail
- Left, right, left, right => door_fail
- Check the crib sheet => check_sheet

~ door_2
Narrator: *Four green blinks. The pad holds its breath.*
- Left, right, left, right => door_3
- Right, left, right, left => door_fail
- Up, up, down, down => door_fail
- Check the crib sheet => check_sheet

~ door_3
Narrator: *Eight green blinks. Two keys left: B and A.*
- B, then A => inside
- A, then B => door_fail
- Check the crib sheet => check_sheet

~ door_fail
Narrator: *A red blink. The pad clears itself with a small, patient click.*
	*Whatever you keyed, it wasn't the old code.*
=> door_1

~ check_sheet
Narrator: *You unfold the tape. The old code is still there, in that irritated hand.*
	*By the time you look up, the keypad has timed out and cleared itself.*
=> door_1

~ inside
Narrator: *The last two keys. A pause long enough to doubt the whole idea. Then the lock throws itself back like it's been waiting decades for the exercise.*
Narrator: *Inside: ranks of cabinets under dust tarps, an attendant's counter, a wall of coin lockers. Dead, all of it - except one aisle, lit end to end, leading to a bank of upright pods with glass lids.*
	*The air smells of ozone and carpet that outlived its warranty.*
Narrator: *Above the pods, a board. Amber letters, still cycling.* [#complete_quest]
	*LEAGUE STANDINGS. The top line is lit: three letters, S.E.R., and a score longer than the screen wants to show. Every line below it is dark.*
	*The score ticks up while you watch.*
- Look around
	Narrator: *The coin lockers along the wall hang open and empty. All but one. On its door, a brass tag, stamped with the same three letters.* [#load_quest=f2ad1747-e185-4e7f-9529-464d1765ab07]
=> END