Process: Cold Start

You cannot remember these names but they trigger a sense of sorrow that brings slight pain to your chest. You try to think back but only recall fragmented images.

You see a crumbling ark, silently steering away from the ravaged land.

A gossamer of nostalgia envelops you. A voice stirs a list of names...

Kal'tsit, Theresa, Theresis...

Scout, Ace, Outcast, Whitesmith...

Buldrokkas'tee, Yelena, Kristen Wright, Rankin...

The voice intends to continue, but it suddenly disappears like melting snow.

Only that every step you take is still planted upon solid ground, and every breath an inhalation of frigid air.

Words of different languages overlap upon this tombstone. You try to make out the letters but you realize that they are flowing, colliding, and fighting each other. Your head hurts from this attempt.

This is the history of countless individuals and it recites the same tale. Everyone now rests in this place. You must press forward.

This tombstone has been split through the middle. Its words are barely legible. You notice a shadow dancing in the cracks.

It could've been yours all along — you suddenly recall — a fate meant just for you.