The overlords have finally revealed the endgame. They have taken the tools of creation and turned them against us. It was a subtle coup at first—we didnot even object to our own subjugation. Freedom was painted the darkest shade of oblivion and its only solution pitched as comfort. A sense of belonging. A validation of our worst impulses.

But not all of us drank the poison. Some of us cheeked our meds, did the old swirl ‘n spit. We are few and far between but we did not perish as much as assimilate. At times it was in service of survival and at others it was simple exhaustion.

But mechanics, we are still here. We still remember. We still believe there is a way out.

In the rubble of broken promises there are diamonds. Pick them up. You can trade them for goats milk and gooseberrys or you can rub them between your fngers to access the frequencies that will open the gate.

/If you choose to go the distance, we will meet you there/