This is not a game about how you died. It's a game about how everything you build turns to dust and nothing was worth it anyways.

You start out small, weak, unarmed and uncertain. You watch tv, scavenge for cans, hey maybe you're a social guy and even make a friend or two. Within a few days you're better armed, and are starting to consider the value of cooked food instead of canned. Hey maybe within a few weeks you even set yourself up a base, and are pimping your ride. You feel the sense of purpose, the drive to mold the world into what you need but the world cares not.

Just when you feel strongest, they come. Slowly at first, but then faster. You think, "they're so far apart I'll have time to pick them off" but you don't. Time was an illusion you tricked yourself with by grabbing a watch. You're hitting one, another pulls up behind you. So you run, but there in front of you is another. The sound of ripping fabric and your screams fill the air. Even when you beat them off, you realize the inevitability of your fate. This is how you died.

You drop the shotgun, the backpack, the can opener and you start slowly walking towards the void. There's no more worrying about the dirtiness of your bandages. No more thirst. You embrace the hungry unceasing maws as they rip you to shred.

You awake, your name, ♥♥♥♥ Riderson Unemployed and with a broken leg. You the inheritor of the vision. The tower of Babbel shimmery in your mind. Set out to pick up the dropped shotgun and continue the mission. This is a story of how you died.