The Cargo Hold

You take a closer look at the giant metal box in the back of the room. It looks like some kind of... oven? You tilt your head, trying to make sense of it. You place your hand on the shiny front of it. It feels warm to the touch. Then you feel the edges. It looks like it’s got a door. Curious, you decide to open it up. Inside you find... nothing. It’s completely empty, disappointingly so. However, the journey back here was not in vain. There seem to be containers of food velcro-d to the wall. And with the type of rations you’ve been provided on your trip to the station so far, you’re not feeling too picky. You open a packet, discovering a thick turkey sandwich inside. Score. You debate for a moment whether you should be taking it. After all, it doesn’t exactly belong to you. Then again, it’s just one sandwich, you reason; nobody will notice it’s gone. Feeling your stomach howl in agony, you grab it with both hands, winding up to take a massive bite, when suddenly a computer voice calls out to you. “Supply change detected! Preparing storage protocol.” A pair of robotic arms unfold from a wall panel. They take a moment to scan the surrounding area, seeming to lock onto the sandwich in your hands. They begin to whir as they move closer in. One of the hands reaches out to grab it. Reluctant to give it up, however, you hide it behind yourself. They begin to follow it, and you bring it back around in front of you. Irritated at this game of “keep away”, the computer scolds you. “Release the consumable at once. Opened food supplies must be packaged for storage.” “Bite me!” you yell back. All this fighting over a sandwich has left you a bit perturbed. The computer pauses for a few seconds. You sure showed him, you chuckle to yourself. Until... “Confirming target change...” Uh oh. Just like that, you feel the arms grab you in a vice grip, tight enough that you drop your sandwich. Cringing from the strength, you try to free yourself with your free arm, to no avail. Behind you, you hear the metal door begin to hiss open. The computer, in what you almost believe is a smug tone, announces the following “Preparing for dehydration”. With an ungraceful amount of force, you are thrown into the box, door slamming behind you. It’s tight, but you’ve felt worse. Even so, your arms and legs are pressed snugly against your chest, making it impossible to move (or brace yourself for what comes next). You begin to sweat as the air becomes dry. Very dry; you can feel your “water weight” begin to evaporate away. The inner walls begin to close in, crushing and compacting you into a small, dense cube. The door opens once more, and a robot arm picks you up. You can fit between its pinchers with ease. Slowly yet precisely, it maneuvers you towards what appears to be a pallet. The top cover peels back, revealing a grid filled with similarly sized cubelets. You feel yourself slide into an available pocket, aptly labeled “fish food”. How rude! You’re at least worthy of being mouse food!

Dehydrated!

You have found 24 Endings out of 24!