"Dark, cold, and alone. Here inside this metal prison, I await the Imago's embrace. Tear dried eyes beg in vain for a swift end. I sob in agony, screams no longer can escape my coarse throat. Why!? Why must the ants feed upon the flesh so slowly...."

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Author: Will-"Mr.Prophet"-Drekker
Map Name: DM-Imago
Email me at: Prophet_54@yahoo.com
Playerload:2-6
GameType: Deathmatch or Team deathmatch
Construction time: Too long for a such a small  map.
Editor used: UED2
new graphix: yes, Textures
new sounds: yes, Music track
system speed: Plays fine on my rig, which is a 400mhrz,128ram, with a voodoo 3 3000.

**Required: latest patch 436, epic bonus pack 4, because im using sg-tech for some things in the map.

Installation: Place .unr in maps folder, .umx music file in music folder, .utx file in textures folder, and this readme in the help folder.

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NOTE: This map is setup for translocator action. Not recomended for Quake players, since the awe inspiring visage that is Unreal Tournament will leave you in seizures as you desperatly try to comprehend why it is that you play Quake. I am not to blame for any suicides performed by Quake fanatics, I am protected by Law if any self-destructive ends befall such mentally inept players. If you are a honest and true fan of UT, you may play and enjoy.

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*Special Thanx- pp who i am thanking for below stated reasons.

David M- For allowing me to make use of textures used in DM-Seed, thanx alot d00d.

Halo 14- Beta testing, and for always being my friend.

Angelina Jolie- For just being the goddess that you are,  I shall always be an avid fan. You really didn't do anything as far as this map goes...but your so very hot and you kick lots of buttox.

Beyond Unreal- For stealing away Nali City from the clutches of Planet Unreal....wait a sec....you bastards!

The Flu- I wrote the "Imago text" included at the bottom of this readme when I had the flu AND when I mapped the trap part of the map. I could not have done better when I was in perfect health, thanx.

Hourences- You mad cat from belgium! For beta-testing and for speaking Dutch, take a bow.

Rich Eastwood-(or Westwood? wood at all?) Think it was THIS guy who made richrig, well i borrowed like 2 textures from that for Imago so thanx. Just a little trim and mech tex, not enough to render this map "davey wannabe".

Teque- Made the music file, which I also used in DM-TimeCrash. Yeah yeah, so I couldnt find a new track. David M uses the same frickin' song in every one of his maps, so bite me!

David Fincher- No particular reason...just cus his movies OWN!.

Bangout-Lots of Beta testing even tho his card sucks more than a hoover set to kill.

Spiritwalker- also betatesting

Rukee- Beta testing

Lruce bee- Beta testing...i think.

Balton- I also think he beta tested.

President George Bush- He might have beta tested, and for the fact hes not a pussy like Clinton, hes actually killing those terrorist bastards, you go G Dubba-ya!
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Legal stuff- Don't steal any part of my map to make other maps, Don't sell my map for money unless you are me. Don't make crappy conversions of my map unless your me. Don't crash planes into buildings. Don't drink water while in Mexico. Do not pass Go, do not collect a hundred dollars.

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" The Factory of the Imago, the Hybrid's prison"

 " The dust burns my eyes as I choke on the rust, tearing at my throat as I bleed from the inside out. The metal tastes bitter and cold, chilling my tongue, the gun barrel rich with the flavor of ash. They force me to suck as I consume the decay, drinking from the black  fountain as the tears sting my face. My skin is gray, the barbed wire chains tugging at my flesh as the hooks hold me up, clumps of bloodied slush that was once patches of my epidermis dampens my ankles. But still I can see, I watch the Machine as it's gears churn and I stare at the ants as they come marching in and out, the insects are everywhere! Crawling on my putrid body, they pick at my coarse tissue till they break through, building their nest deep inside my withered veins. My heart turns black as the brain rejects the infection, and soon the blood turns darker than night as I become ripe with disease. I am stained by the metal bastard's larvae. The convultions force my jaw to chew off white tongue as it falls to the iron grate floor of the factory with a dry splat. 
                                  The tears turn sour as vision blurs all about. My eyes change from yellow to red as the world fades out, but past the distortions I can still see them pick apart my body, the conveyor ships the product of my hollowed out soul. Transporting the remains to society, the rotten virus turns the children black as coal as cities vanish in an ocean of murdered dreams. The stench causes the all too familiar red fluid to flow from my nostrils as the blood mixed acidic vomit comes forth only to die as rusty powder which settles on the grated floor. The thorns replace my veins, the ants have matured from the coccoon. Thus they Germinate within me. From my rotten flesh the harvest brings forth the festering virus. And I am left to watch the world crumble as the pigs claw at one another, the dead tusks still sharp enough to slice the skin, and they drown in the rancid garbage from which they feast upon.  They ants rejoice as the flames engulf everything.
                                 But my fear dies in the fire, for they cannot hurt me anymore. I will not be their slave, I will fight back, I will bring them down and make my escape. I pull myself from the wall, the wires violently tear from my exposed brain as the hooked chains rip me from all around. As I close my fist, the skin crumbles into fine powdery sand, hardened muscle barely covers the skeleton underneath. But I don't care anymore. I go for the machine, but without the tool keeping my brain in trance, I fall onto the soapy floor. The Iron splits my knees as the black fluid pours forth from my mouth in the gallons, turning to ash as it meets the metal. My naked, battered body lays fallen for all to see, they mock my burnt away gender. The ants have taken away my identity, I am no more than a dead ghost that was once a man. But still I crawl, and to my feet I rise. I pull the wire from the panel and thrust what remains of my fist into the gears. The sparks fly as my skin cracks apart, the bone smashed beyond reconignition.  The lights flicker as the machine shuts off, and the conveyor finally halts. Industry dies with an agonizing scream as the metal finally becomes silent. And then the ants come, but no longer are they the small insects that fed on my soft insides, but instead they are venomous wasps. They sting at my long dead flesh, each of them dying instantly all for that one vain thrust. They go for my eyes, the only part of me still real. I must not let them take me with them! I pull away from the dead beast as my crushed arm tears off at the shoulder, a trail of dust emits from the hole. And I run forth as the fresh blood flows down my face, they attack my exposed pupils.
                                   And with a heavy lunge through the window I fall, the glass cutting new holes in the crust. The world streaks past as I fly downward, the wind stabbing at my injuries as the trail of  human debris follows behind me. But pain has stopped for me forever, the thorns wither and die as the blood hardens into a shell. They cannot hurt me now, as I have now grown my new coat of armor. And then I hit the water. The fresh liquid fills me and purges the brutalized carcass that was once a proud human being. Memories flash before me as I recall my existence prior to birth. The womb is where I am truly safe, the human seed that bore me kept me in that soft haven. But that child is dead, the man he became has been destroyed by the ants. Those bastard insects raped his radiant coat of flesh, using his blood to achieve their stage of the Imago. But they didn't kill what was left behind, and now I am all that remains. In that metal city of Dis, I was born. My face has been torn apart, my body butchered by their instruments, my brain carved up as an offering to that Machine, and my dead skin plucked away. But I still escaped, into this watery place. And now I climb ashore, the wasteland lays ahead of me, stretching for miles. They crucified my soul, and with it died my humanity, my emotion. Nothing remains but darkness. I look ahead now at the infected world about me, the Imago stage has been reached, but it will not last. Nothing lives forever. We all share our fate together.
                                            For now my objective is clear. I shall erase them from this Earth.  I will take them all down, my new arms will plunge into the sea of death, and I will slaughter those pigs. They will all die squealing , and their vile brood will burn under my wrath, much to the delight of the Pyro.  The Imago is a poweful Machine, but all machines breakdown and rot away.  I will ruin this world they have created, none of them will escape my rage!. It is time for the Pigs to suck MY cold gun,  the light wil be lost in their fearful eyes as I sing my melody of destruction. The Storm is coming little piggys, I will huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your lives apart like burnt paper! One after another, you will fall, you will be purified by the bullet! Let the ants march, without the machine they cannot achieve Imago and without that shimmering drug their generations will cease to exist. They cannot stop me, for I am of a new line of brood. Born from the tender flesh of woman, my wings clipped by the ants, my new exoskeleton is finally dry and my new legs ready to move forth. The blood of the ants flow in me now, but I am not of their kin.  I have the fangs of the Black widow spider, my skin is that of the Chameleon. Part human, part insect, part reptile, My blood is cold. Nothing can save you now, for I have been reborn! I have tasted the Imago, but I have become something else. "

----The Imago Hybrid

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other maps by author:

DM-AbsoluteZero
DM-Splinter of the Mind's Eye
DM-TimeCrash
DM-Chimeara
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P  R  O  P  H  E  T

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I eat babies.