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The pill

Some want to lead their outpost into a glorious future, some want to gaze at their riches, and some only want to live a simple life.
Mine was optimization.
I saw geniuses finding more and more complex ways to miniaturize full vessels. I felt the urge to compete. If only I realized the size of my mistake sooner.
I studied their designs, I followed their teachings, spending endless nights pondering about the human form and its "sacred hitboxes", the link between the vessel and the man, the first condition. Any disharmony could result in a fatality.

My first prototype had doors. You slid into it like a Flora's spore into a pump. I assumed people would accept to crawl. That was my first mistake. I created disharmony, and, even once I figured out the source of the problem, I was not satisfied.
Then, I saw them. One of them looked me in the eyes, told me they knew what I wanted, but asked to prove my worth. They played their gong. My head split and my will put it back together but yet I couldn't understand.

I spent the next nights awake, endlessly starting over and over and over. Then, I realized : They don't need a door. Their intent to enter an outpost is more than sufficient for them to manifest. With them, they bring crates. Clown crates. Crates that manage to compact the human body to an infinitesimal scale. But these miracles couldn't fit on a sub, too prone to slip as they were, yet, one thing could replace them : boarding pods.
The Honkmother herself wanted a proof of my devotion and I passed her test. As images of the logistics of clowncars flashed into my brain, I saw the blueprint drawing before my eyes. I had it. My masterpiece.


It contains the usual things you'd expect of a real submarine :

• 1 reactor
  
• 1 junction box
  
• 1 supercapacitor
  
• 1 pump
  
• 1 discharge coil
  
• 1 periscope for 2 chainguns
  
• 1 full ammunition shelf
  
• 1 nav terminal
  
• 1 terminal with things on it
  
• 1 (uninteractable) engine that pushes the vessel to the speed limit even though it is at one thirtieth of its original power
  
• 1 medical compartment (pomegranade extract does not heal the mind)
  
• 1 supplies cabinet (where your tools are. Essential to prolong your time in purgatory)
  
• 1 trashcan (in case your will to live isn't shattered yet)

Since this "submarine" demands some adaptation time in order to play it correctly, here are a few tips you can use to enjoy your agony a bit longer :
To enter, press [E] on the tunnel and exit with right click. Try to avoid entering while upside-down.
Remember than [ALT] exists and use it profusely.
Watch your oxygen.
Avoid ragdolling while inside, you'll likely take damage.
Use the autopilot as a brake, it will act faster than you.
Don't go at full speed, you are not a psychic and the sonar will not warn you fast enough.
Anticipate your trajectory, you will need to get off the controls.
You can exit the submarine by breaking the hull. Make sure to completely repair it before entering inside again.
If you REALLY want to go away fast, launch the escape sequence, put on your trusty trashcan "suit" and get into the boarding pod.

Includes the submarine and a "spawn hub" with ten of them in case you want to fight your friends

q : Why? Why me? What's the point of this?
a : It's a game of fun! A game of adv- wait, that's just because I can.

q : Are you responsible of the 90 captains disappearances between 10/05/2005 and 02/12/2017?
a : Yes.

q : I'm a Coalition officer and this submarine does not respect our values, thus qualifying as a hate crime. Your weaponization of suffering shall cease now.
a : Take some haloperidol, breathe in and stop making things up.

Enjoy your shortened lifespan. The lore update will come later.