Atmospheric pressure Good afternoon, fresh weather forecast. Today is a traditional gloomy day and we are glad to welcome you to the slums, the escape from which so often comes in dreams. In the afternoon on the territory of Hungary of the future (or grotesque present), a sad rain is expected in memory of an unknown falling world, plaster falling from the walls and a moan of abandoned factory pipes. The cloudy sky is unlikely to allow the sun to look at these semi-apathetic faces below, a little evoking thoughts about George Romero's films. At night, of course, they are waiting for neon lightning and a marathon of thoughtless dancing at industrial discos. Brownian movement of the surrounding creatures under the shadow of clouds is devoid of obvious meaning, they are like programs that broke out of the operating system and do not know what to do next.
In the world of Ackerman, the fool genius of pixels on a monitor and a big child, ordinary peace will be replaced by a growing storm, with a ridiculous apogee, under the supervision of a greedy laughing criminal element. Like everyone in this forgotten pantheon place, the urks dream of breaking out, going upstairs, to big money and clean suits. Bandits are more like teenagers playing gangsters, albeit in an adult body. With no logical connection quarrels and eccentric actions, like slit veins like this, just for fun, and indistinct scams associated with horse racing and the weather. To do this, they need Ackerman, with the help of a mysterious computer “system” exercising control over the heavenly office. The weather forecast will prepare them with a gusty wind of change, both in their surrounding reality and in their inner world.
The master of zeros and units in behavior looks more like a robot, I do not know why released from corporate sterility at the bottom of the human anthill. The authors will not tell you what kind of organization he works for, what is the meaning of his work, and why such a seemingly valuable employee of the company does not care. In a holiday-ravaged office building, a sexually dissatisfied secretary only roams sadly. Ackerman has lost touch with reality, or may never have, and only diving to the bottom of his bathtub, he lives in strange fantasies about a lunar train and lecherous beasts, emphasizing the absurdity that surrounded him with an industrial dance. He does not hold on to others and even for his life, rather tactfully surprised by what is happening outside the walls of the home, rather than feeling real discomfort, including witnessing the fights between crime and law enforcement. Though, maybe they were gangsters, too. As with movie illusions, this is difficult to understand with precision. What is funny, the obvious asexuality of the hero contrasts sharply with the vicious and sexually unpleasant appearance of hallucinogenic animals.
In fact, the lack of logical connections and a normal explanation of actions can be considered the main concept of successfully playing cyberpunk "Meteo", albeit inappropriate for such a game technically raw. A bit banal, but according to the author, the world is insane, and subsequently the surrealism of existence will only increase, increasingly losing meaning in the impending factory walls. Under the melodic dark ambient, life slowly, spreading out its arms and aiming the glazed gaze upwards, turns in a gray empty box from under the monitor, which replaced the mirrors. The ghostly upper city, never shown on film, becomes an old metaphor for escaping reality. Someone will find it in the most practical ways, boarding a plane into the unknown, and someone poetically leaves the sinful land on balloons to look for the abandoned soul in places where the weather is always calm, does not need control, and the factory smog is only a dirty smoke that winds among the legs.