The questions peter out, and the Archive corpse-thing lapses into silence.
SAM: “So, when does this thing start?”
ARCHIVE: “In this situation, I would normally seek admin permission, but I am currently controlling a shell that is very similar to an Admin’s fleshed form. I can do this.”
A little transparent panel materialises as they say that, and they tap its centre, lighting it up green.
ARCHIVE: “Now, you may all feel a slight stinging sensation.”
ARCHIVE: “Followed by a loss of consciousness.”
SAM: “Wait, what?”
Everything goes black.