You re-enter the living room, and the apartment lets out a loud groan. The storm pulls the roof at the edges, and before all of you even get a chance to react, to hold onto something and try and save yourselves… it’s gone. Wind sweeps everyone off of their feet, the storm taking hold completely and pulling at them. All three participants, and presumably wardens as well, black out for a moment.
When everyone comes to, the projection is over. Judging by the expressions on the wardens’ faces, this wasn’t intended at all. It’s almost as if a malfunction had ejected everyone early. The three prisoners are in a rather unceremonious heap on the floor, and the wardens are quickly skittering toward Bow-Wow with alarm written all over their faces. They’re muttering something about how ’this wasn’t meant to happen’, that the projection ’wasn’t over yet’. And yet, Bow-Wow had somehow seemingly forced it to end in his subconscious.
When the prisoners’ vision finally clears from the disorienting and sudden ejection, loud clattering draws their attention swiftly. Bow-Wow is thrashing in the chair, looking like he’s in pain. His chest is heaving significantly, his arms pulling against the restraints so hard his skin is reddening, loud, wheezing breaths escaping his throat as the wardens struggle to free him in his agitated state. It’s unclear whether any of them offer him any comfort- after all, he’s somehow still bridging the gap to consciousness.
He lurches forward once he finally comes to consciousness, practically tearing the mascot mask from his face with a sharp ‘ting!’ as the elastic snaps. He rounds on the wardens, the expression on his face the angriest you’ve ever seen him. It’s visceral, entirely instinct.
“I… I was fine t’play around the first time- BUT GET OUT OF MY HEAD! I’VE HAD ENOUGH!” His hands are shaking, but not with the usual nervousness you’re used to seeing from Bow-Wow. The expression contorting his face is pure rage. Like a neatly coiled spring that just snapped. His head hurts. His chest hurts. He needs to get out of here. He’s pretty sure he still can’t breathe properly. His eye is twitching, and very quickly he stands up, throwing his mask at Ei with full force, marching out of the room entirely and slamming the door behind him.
It wasn’t the wardens’ fault. Nor the fault of those in his projection, but the MILGRAM machine had delved to places that Bow-Wow would never have wanted to allow to resurface. Somewhere so deeply repressed that not even the machine had known how to handle it. Whilst he may not know what they had seen, with how sick and exhausted he felt, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
