A machine measured everyone. Then it collected.
A small top-down bank world you actually walk around. One HQ, seven departments, a sports field, a staff lot and a bus loop — and a five-part heist you carry out during break.
Ponsbvnk HQ used to be loud. Then Chairman Vex Sternum installed the AUDIT-O-TRON 3000 — a machine to measure every employee's Credit Score, so the bank could finally prove it was doing well.
It measured. Team lunch: redundant. Fantasy football pool: no measurable outcome. Friday drinks: unquantifiable. One by one the notices went up and the perks came down, and everybody agreed the numbers looked healthier than ever.
Then it stopped measuring and started collecting. It pulled the value out of the building and wound it onto five vault keys, wired into its own core behind a sealed door in the vault. The campus went grey — the paving, the buses, the sky over the bus loop. Nobody remembers it being any other way.
You get off the bus on your first day as the only hire still in colour. Your locker is #404. Whoever had it before you left a cracked calculator, a photo of the old trading floor mid-cheer, and a note: "5 keys. 5 departments. Get them back."
AUDIT-O-TRON 3000 · TERMINAL READOUT
Every key is buried in a mission on the board — file paperwork, work the machines, trade at Rico's exchange, put the perks back up. Do the work, get the key. There is no combat and nothing to lose.
Nine real buildings with floors, walls, windows and doors you walk through. Step inside and that building's roof fades off so you can see yourself, the furniture and everyone in there with you.
Rico runs the exchange and buys anything. Gus mops and knows about the ladder. Mr. Whiskerton wins every staring contest. Hallway chat runs all day and notices when you land something rare.
The vault hums and stays sealed. Mission nine asks you to hold 500 $PNOSBVNK at once — an unmeasurable number — and walk in.
PONS·BVNK