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ts so ass bro đź’”
Slendytubbies: The Remake V1.0
The Guardian's Log:
This... isn't the world I'm used to.
Something's deeply wrong. The air is thicker now—like it's alive, pressing against my skin, watching. Everything's been... corrupted. Twisted beyond recognition. The familiar hum of the base, once comforting, now sounds distorted. Warped. Like it's screaming just beneath the surface.
I can’t track them.
I’ve tried everything—frequency scans, thermal readings, motion sensors. Nothing. It’s as if they’ve vanished into thin air. No traces, no echoes. Just... silence. And that silence is loud. Deafening.
Where are they? What happened to them?
The tubbies—gone. Without a struggle, without a trace. I called out their names. Over and over. I got nothing back but my own voice bouncing off walls, mocking me with its emptiness.
The cameras don’t work anymore.
Every feed is just static, or worse—grainy flickers of something moving just out of frame. When I rewind, it’s gone. When I pause, sometimes the screen stares back. I don’t know if it’s a glitch... or if something’s toying with me.
Still, I can’t stay in here.
I have to go out there. I have to look.
And my main suspicion? The custards.
They weren’t just sustenance. Not really. We joked about it, sure—"radioactive pudding," "sentient slime"—but something in them changed. Something woke up. Or got in. Now the storage rooms reek of iron and rot, and some of the vats are empty... but not clean. Whatever was in them crawled out, and it didn’t leave alone.
The weight of finding out what happened is unbearable.
It's not just fear anymore. It's guilt. Dread. Responsibility. I was supposed to protect this place. To watch. To guard. And now I walk these halls like a ghost among graves.
Whatever's out there... it knows I'm coming.
And it's waiting.
