You're overtaken by fear and doubt, the pistol shaking in your hand. What can you possibly gain by killing them? Your choice is perhaps blinded by hatred as you clench your teeth and pull the trigger. Adding up one more to the number of corpses lying on the ground.

As the hours go by you feel nothing but emptiness. You're stuck in this place until the end of your short life. Waiting for your flesh to rot away as you watch the clock tic. You feel the fire in your heart still burning. The demise of the one who put you through this wasn't enough to ease the suffering consuming you. This nihilistic nightmare that is your life now fills you with angst and anger, even though you were technically responsible for it. The original. The other you. You and all the other versions of you. You feel like they should all be punished.

As you wander aimlessly around the premises, you stumble upon a room filled with dozens of monitors. You see other versions of you in every screen. Some awake, some still sleeping. Blissfully unaware of what's waiting for them.

You open the drawer to find a fresh set of bandages, which you use to wrap around your face before you turn on the camera.

With flames in your eyes and a sickeningly energetic voice, you utter through the microphone:

"Greetings! You're probably wondering how you got here, eh?"

Ending B