Game: nacre-repo.itch.io/setsuzoku-butalat-white-limbo

Conglomerate of computer, telephony and telecommunications trading companies.

Only the best service guaranteed. Efficiency, work, results. The spitting image of the future.

Zoku is a talkative and lively worker who recently moved to the city.
You are about to discover everything that this commercial emporium has to offer you. Financial success, luxuries, high standards.

Zoku just has to play his cards right, be a sponge. Be the smartest to get the biggest piece of the pie. His colleagues in the sector used to call him, the Rhomb. Because he always seems to fit anywhere.

However. One day, what seemed to be the ringing of a telephone began to ring in the mediations of that gigantic shopping center.

At first he tried not to give it any more attention. Someone would end up responding. Or in the worst case. It would just be his imagination.

But he was wrong, the phone rang and rang. And Everyone was too busy with their own business to reply.

This damn phone was making him lose sleep, he couldn't ignore it anymore, had to know from where... and who was calling.



And then, one night, Zoku found himself making his way through office complexes searching for the source of that hellish sound,


Zoku then looked at the entire suite of offices from a broader perspective;
Decadent and outdated, an indoor corporate neighborhood whose art and emotions have been abandoned by time and by the selfishness of wanting a better life than others.

It seemed to extend beyond the physical limits of the building. A space that he would swear merged with his subconscious, with his memories.

And then, there was that phone... That metallic screeching of a phone ringing months in an office already closed, forgotten.

Hesitant Zoku questions about picking up the phone...
Afraid. Afraid of losing what he had built,
afraid of what might await him on the other side,
afraid to assume what it was...


Zoku found himself speaking in a sweet voice. it recorded very well.

The voice on the other end of the line stated:
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It's me... you finally dared to answer... Don't leave me down here... I'm part of you...
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Then Zoku understood what he had hidden... that voice that was screaming to get out.
That neither he nor anyone else wanted to hear if they wanted to succeed in this voracious world. A delicate voice, sweet and gentle, innocent and scared.

A voice of themselves that each buried deep in the offices, and strove to cover it up through hard work and false luxuries.


Decided. Zoku answered him:
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