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Welcome to SLA INDUSTRIES : Truth within the Lies

14:21, 28th March 2024 (GMT+0)

SLA INDUSTRIES : Truth within the Lies

"In the corners and the gutters, buried deep in shadows, Slayer lurks in the World of Progress. Sitting alone, worrying over problems which even gods are scared of, the insane chatterings of daily life soothe his nerves. In Suburbia, an up-and-coming young beauty screams and screams as everything is slashed out of her future. The warped, dark mutterings of a street drunk talking into his brown paper bag somewhere across the city form a tender and subtle counterpoint. Elsewhere, minions plot betrayal and murder, loyal to the company ethics. Music, to twisted ears. Everywhere you turn, there is violence, hate and death. Everywhere you turn, there is Progress. Everywhere you turn, there is Slayer.

In a thousand BluePrint News Halls, frustrated Operatives sit and grind their teeth as loyalty and devotion evaporate. It could be worse. At least the suits here are just infuriating; frequently, they are murderous - or worse. Backstabbing, heartless toadies, interested only in self, they are as faithful to Slayer's ideals as the madmen who roam the Cannibal Sectors. The unlucky Operative is doomed on every side; if she isn't cut down in battle, or warped by monstrosity, she'll be tortured and killed for whatever it is that keeps her whole. Ah, sweet progress.

If Slayer sees everything - and he does - then surely the vid screens are his eyes and ears. Reaching out to a dazzled population, Third Eye and her sisters will play with your mind, teaching and guiding you to the hidden knowledge - black is white, good is bad, and only in death is there life. Be mad! Madness is your friend. Blood and death are a pair of beautiful, seductive twins. Humanity? Humanity is sacrilege, and must be destroyed. In the World of Progress, the people are less human than Max Hagen's twisted Karma creations. Our Operative, with her fate still hidden by the sweet taste of imagined power, will get nothing from the public. Poor bitch; it won't be until she's dead that she'll be given a chance, a name, everything she still craves.

As you walk through the streets of Mort, cast your eyes around. The legions of the lost wander aimlessly; they have no more substance than you do. Slayer is your friend. Really, he is. This reality may seem bad - a depressing, twisted hell - but the World of Progress is a bright, cheery cottage in a midnight valley. If you think that surely nothing could be worse, then ask yourself again... what are the omnipotent afraid of, if not themselves?"
The World of Progress

For over 900 years, the universe known as the World of Progress has been ruled by SLA Industries (SLA is pronounced "Slay", not "Ess-Ell-Ay"). Keeping a close check on growth and expansion, the vast corporation oversees the gigantic open market. All possible goods are produced by SLA Industries, from food and housing to guns, drugs and luxury toys. Its customers are the planets and societies of the World of Progress, and its sole owner is the immortal company director, Mr. Slayer. Free thought is discouraged, information is suppressed and curiosity is not a survival trait. SLA Industries has a lot of skeletons in its past, and Mr. Slayer would like them to stay there.

Before the birth of SLA Industries and the World of Progress, the known universe seemed to have been at war for ever. Countless races fought constantly for supremacy in a mad sea of battles that has come to be known as the Conflict Wars. Slayer appeared in the known universe with a small retinue of colleagues. Wearing a smart business suit and walking with measured grace, he was a sharp contrast to the lumbering warriors in powered armour who inhabited the planets he visited. Slayer had something unique to offer - a range of weapons and armour far superior to anything in existence. SLA Industries was founded with the billions that he made, billions that were sunk into biogenetic research. Slayer's scientists finally created living biogenetic beings, and the resulting warriors, called 313 Stormers and codenamed "Malice", were sold all over the known universe as shock troops.

The company director talked continually about "The Big Picture", his vision of the future, but the plans were kept secret while sales of Stormers made SLA Industries the largest corporation in existence. Finally, The Big Picture was unveiled; all across the known universe, Stormers turned on their owners and slaughtered them, SLA weaponry ceased working, and SLA armour fell to pieces. Very few races survived. Those that did were offered the choice of selling their planets to Slayer and receiving the support of SLA Industries as part of the World of Progress, or of being left to die. Some planets refused, but the vast majority did not. Slayer marked the beginning of the World of Progress by restarting the calendar at 0 SD (Standard Date). Nine hundred years later, Mr. Slayer still rules SLA Industries, and SLA Industries still rules the World of Progress.

The capital of the World of Progress is Mort City on the planet Mort, a roughly circular sprawl some two thousand kilometres in diameter. The planet Mort is similarly vast; the city is all but lost in the expanses of the factory wastelands, blasted test areas and warped production zones that cover the globe. It is also totally dead. Pollution killed all natural life long ago. The same pollution also destroyed the atmospheric system. The planet is always wrapped in thick, black clouds. The rain never stops. Never. Mort is the black jewel in the tarnished crown known as the World of Progress. A city where serial killing and prime-time carnage are the best career options. The heart of SLA Industries.

Mr. Slayer's office building dominates SLA corporate HQ, set in the gleaming splendour of the district known as Central. Only SLA's corporate employees and Operatives can be found here. Elsewhere, the grimy civilians walk nervously through the revolting, labyrinthine streets of Downtown and the nightmarish spaces beneath. Outside the city walls lurk the hellish Cannibal Sectors, terrifying areas of devastation packed with deadly, loathsome inhabitants.

For you, the Operative, it's just like the adverts. You're a hero, a media darling, climbing the ladder to the top. Doing well in the World of Progress means following Mr. Slayer's Big Picture and oh, what a picture it is! Life is so "pleasant" for the bulk of the population that SLA have employed you as part of their special troubleshooting forces. There are millions of you for Mort City alone, elite agents trusted to make sure that everything runs smoothly, and the Company doesn't get... embarrassed.

The capital of SLA Industries is resplendent in its decaying glory, a planet where a frantic struggle to survive is the only way of life. Life is cheap here; knowledge may cost you more than you can possibly imagine."