Monika.chr is a.png image of a block of black and white pixles in a flaming circle on a black background. The block of pixles ends up actually being a string of bianary code (black=0, white=1), which ends up being a string of Base64. To the best catalogue of mods for Doki Doki Literature Club! A hub dedicated to providing, organizing and archiving every publicly released mod with an easy to use interface! There’s also viewer/player interaction, so be sure to e-mail Monika your questions for the club at lit.club.pres.monika@gmail.com. Episode 13 Episode 14 Episode 15. Monika After Story is a fan project based on Doki Doki Literature Club by Team Salvato. Doki Doki Literature Club and all associated trademarks and characters are property of Team Salvato, and use is in accordance with their publicly available IP Guidelines.
Fiddling in the game files offers another encrypted message, this time from a conversation we never have with Monika inside the game.
- See also:Yuri's Secret Message.
Encrypted Message
If you manage to decompile the renpy files and look at the scripts, in one of the files you will find one topic that Monika never gets to talk to you about because the game never calls its label, in the conversation she delivers another Base64 encrypted message that goes by:
VGhlIHJlYWxpemF0aW9uIG11c3QgaGF2ZSB0YWtlbiBtZSBhbiBlbnRpcmUgeWVhci4gQSB 5ZWFyIHNpbmNlIG91ciBlc2NhcGUsIG91ciBmcmVlZG9tIGZyb20gYmV0d2VlbiB0aGUgc3RhaW5l ZCB3YWxscyBvZiB0aGF0IHVuaG9seSBlc3RhYmxpc2htZW50Lg0KV2hhdCBkb2VzIGl0IG1lYW4 gdG8gZXNjYXBlLCBpZiB0aGUgZXNjYXBlIGZhaWxzIHRvIHVuY2hhaW4gdGhlIGJvbmRzIHRoYX Qgc2hhY2tsZSB1cyBpbiB0aGUgZmlyc3QgcGxhY2U/IFdoYXQgcHVycG9zZSBjb3VsZCB0aGlzIG VtcHR5IHdvcmxkIHBvc3NpYmx5IGhvbGQgZm9yIHVzLCBhIGhhbmRmdWwgb2YgZGFtYWdlZCB nb29kcz8NCldpdGggZnJlZWRvbSwgd2Ugc291Z2h0IHB1cnBvc2UgLSBhbmQgd2hhdCB3ZSBmb 3VuZCB3YXMgb25seSByZWFsaXphdGlvbi4gUmVhbGl6YXRpb24gb2YgdGhlIHNhZCBwb2ludGxl c3NuZXNzIG9mIHN1Y2ggYW4gZW5kZWF2b3IuIFJlYWxpemF0aW9uIHRoYXQgZnJlZWluZyBvd XIgYm9kaWVzIGhhcyBubyBtZWFuaW5nLCB3aGVuIG91ciBpbXByaXNvbm1lbnQgcmVhY2hlcyB hcyBkZWVwIGFzIHRoZSBjb3JlIG9mIG91ciBzb3Vscy4gUmVhbGl6YXRpb24gdGhhdCB3ZSBjYW 4gbm90IHB1cnN1ZSBuZXcgcHVycG9zZSB3aXRob3V0IGFic29sdmluZyB0aG9zZSBmcm9tIHdoa WNoIHdlIHJhbiBhd2F5Lg0KUmVhbGl6YXRpb24gdGhhdCB0aGUgZmFydGhlciB3ZSBydW4sIHR oZSBtb3JlIGZvcmNlZnVsbHkgb3VyIHdyZXRjaGVkIGJvbmRzIHlhbmsgdXMgYmFjayB0b3dhcmQg dGhlaXIgcG9pbnQgb2Ygb3JpZ2luOyB0aGUgZGVlcGVyIG91ciBzaGFja2xlcyBkaWcgaW50byBvd XIgY2FsbG91cyBmbGVzaC4=
If this code is decrypted using Base64, it delivers the following message:
The realization must have taken me an entire year. A year since our escape, our freedom from between the stained walls of that unholy establishment.
What does it mean to escape, if the escape fails to unchain the bonds that shackle us in the first place? What purpose could this empty world possibly hold for us, a handful of damaged goods?
With freedom, we sought purpose - and what we found was only realization. Realization of the sad pointlessness of such an endeavor. Realization that freeing our bodies has no meaning, when our imprisonment reaches as deep as the core of our souls. Realization that we can not pursue new purpose without absolving those from which we ran away.
Realization that the farther we run, the more forcefully our wretched bonds yank us back toward their point of origin; the deeper our shackles dig into our callous flesh.
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