Thank you @Gia and @Leira for organizing a great game and story! And thank you everyone for playing!
Some tangentially related writing
Continuing from where we left off here: Werewolf Game 4: Discussion space - #234 by yebellz
Further background: Miscellaneous trivia, riddles, puzzles and other games - #39 by yebellz
Nearly a millennium in the future, Lt. yebellz stands in the cantina of the Chi Virginian Martian base and pensively fidgets with the 3-year token in his pocket. Just as suddenly as he lets it go, he takes a seat at the bar. The robotic barkeep pours him a whisky and the question of whether or not he even uttered aloud the request for it only briefly crosses his mind before he lifts the glass to drink it.
Many important thoughts and observations had only barely registered in his and the other human minds since they were enthralled by their Chi Virginian captors. Their judgment was clouded by strange alien powers and none had even seen through the false choice promising a safe return to Earth with memory wiped. Having spoiled two manned missions, which would soon prompt further investigation, the Chi Virginians were operating on borrowed time, but calculated that they still had plenty to see their schemes through. However, sending an astronaut back to Earth, even with their memory wiped, would immediately arouse suspicion with the mysterious return of an extremely recognizable human, which would accelerate probes and possibly jeopardize their experimental goals.
Lt. yebellz drank not only because his inhibitions had been weakened by alien manipulation, but also to drown away the torment of his demons that would come during times of great crisis and stress. Though he never fully understood them, these demons were a form of ancestral memory that manifests as a shared suffering from his ancestors rippling through the years and centuries and into his mind. As a descendent of a peasant bastard of Alexios, Lt. yebellz now endured the pain that maimed and crushed him into the passive shell of Cauliflower. The drink helped to sooth away these horrors as he focused his gaze on his wristwatch, which was still set to measure the position of the sun and the moon from the perspective of his home on Earth, in order to remind him of what he fought on for. The movement had remained reliable ever since his great-grandfather first set it in motion in his workshop in Geneva in order to present it to his son Stephen on the occasion of his wedding.
The memory of Alexios faded into shades of other ancestors. Another great-grandfather dribbling down the court during garbage time, having already run up the score against the bitter rival visitors to seal the win and clinch a spot at the big dance. With the student audience deliriously chanting “Rock! Chalk! JAYHAWK!”, he celebrates with an unnecessary, flashy jump shot and lands poorly as his knee buckles with searing, tearing agony. He never plays in the tournament and his dreams of a professional career are dashed, but changing the course of his life and returning to help run the family farm leads to the joyous birth of his son Kevin a few years later.
The memory of the newborn Kevin fades into the cries of the infant daughter of Benjamin that wakes him in a cold sweat from a recurring dream, where he see his wife Samantha on the beach, staring out at the swells looming in the distance. As they grow and rush toward the shore, Sam stands her ground and holds the line. Steadfast, she faces the towering wave as it crashes down upon her. Benjamin picks up and soothes his daughter, as he warms up one of the final few bags of milk from the freezer, when an alarm on his phone reminds him of his upcoming session of sitting shiva via Zoom.