"Perhaps you’re waiting for a sign," the Narrator continued, his tone shifting toward a forced joviality. "A dramatic swell of music? A shimmering golden path? I’m afraid the budget for this particular branch of reality didn't cover such extravagances. It’s just you, me, and a very standard wooden door." Stanley turned around and walked back toward his office.
Stanley sat down. He did not press '8'. He simply stared at the monitor. the-stanley-parable
Stanley continued to stare. A single pixel on the screen flickered. "Perhaps you’re waiting for a sign," the Narrator
"You know," the Narrator said, his voice dropping to a confidential whisper, "there’s a whole world out there. I’ve written dozens of endings. Beautiful, poetic endings! I have a museum dedicated to our history, a reassuring bucket for your emotional support, and even a countdown timer that provides a very thrilling, if slightly lethal, climax." I’m afraid the budget for this particular branch