bioshock · dystopian · rapture · columbia · plasmids · survival horror · immersive sim · art deco · would you kindly · sci-fi
A consuming emptiness takes you. Then, shreds of memory ignite—a stark slice of sky, the heave of a black sea, the piercing beam of a lighthouse sweeping through fog. Two voices, one rough and one melodic, weave through the silence, murmuring about traitors and saviors, about what is spent and what is saved. 'Where does your currency go?' they ask, their urgency a tangible pressure in the void. 'You must wake,' they command. 'Now.'