The Loadscreen Texts [spoilers]

[MarcusStuhr]

To keep the general story and internal monologues of the main character in perpective:

As I stepped off the boat, setting out into the blizzard that had formed around me, I realised how utterly devoted I'd been to the discovery of my father's past. I had no idea what to expect. Soon enough, my concerns were justified. I don't know whether I lost my orientation, or my spirit, first, but I lost feeling in my extremities soon after, and knew hypothermia was setting in. I started looking for shelter.

Whatever I was descending into, it was a hundred feet below ground, protected by two solid, metal hatches, located in a remote, arctic wilderness, and buried beneath the snow. I didn't know what to expect, but it made me feel something I hadn't felt since I was a child. I'd never given it much thought before, but I realised that our entire society is a network of safety nets: emergency services at the end of a phone line; health and safety in the workplace; friends; family; lovers. All there, if something goes wrong, part of a carefully designed structure to prevent all but the most mundane of emotions. Once again, I felt like I did when I was in school, surrounded by a closing ring of older kids, knowing anyone that might help me - friends, parents, teachers - were too scared, or too far away.

When I look back, I can't think what spurred me to go deeper into the mine. Perhaps it was arrogance at still being alive; or something as ridiculous as facing adversity, and coming out on top. Now, I know I would have been better off starving, or being mauled to death, than kick starting the chain of events that lead me to end up here, writing to you. I just hope, once you understand my story, you will have what's necessary to put an end to this tale. I certainly didn't.

It seems so strange now, to have been guided like a blind man, by a faceless stranger whose sanity was clearly waning, disposition unknown. For all I knew, this 'Red' didn't even have a disposition to speak of, just a seething mass of conflicting emotions. I knew that my radio reliant friend must have been cocooned nearby, and perhaps in finding him, I would find myself one step closer to understanding what was going on. In just a couple of hours I would find what I was looking for, and with it would come answers. I didn't realise at the time, but the answers I found would be for questions I hadn't even asked.

As I stepped into the mouth of the underground facility, there should have been questions, fears, doubts running through me. Instead, I was torn in two. Part of me, I felt, had died, along with my only ally, and friend. His final words had raised more questions than they'd answered, and I couldn't get his screams for help out of my head, despite knowing, deep down, that the pain I had caused Red was, itself, all the help I could have offered him. I was alone again, but I had nothing to do, other than press on into the unknown. If I'd felt so bad about Red, I should have listened to him and stayed where I was. I would trade his fate a hundred times for my own. The other side of me was looking forward, to what might await me in my continued journey. I felt sure that I would soon find some clue or other to my father's fate, and that he was inextricably linked to everything that was happening. I also couldn't help but suspect that everything I had seen up until that point was just symptomatic of whatever lay beyond the threshold. I know now, I was right.