My dear Tara,

Here I am again ! I don'T know how many times this has happened, but I always remember ending up here. In an unfamiliar time, in an unfamiliar place, writing this exact letter. Fortunately for you, my daughter, paper was already invented this time around. I hope time has been kind to this feeble message and I hope it finds you well.

Our future has betrayed us, yet again.
I gAve them the tools, the idea and the reality. The grim reality, although unbelievable, considering how much cover up was involved, was still terrifying enough for an average person to start finding answers, I was seeing promising progress for the first time ever.

They looked for it, they followed my breadcrumbs, they rejected the call and found the room, but what followed was so unfathomably insane. Instead of an attempt to seeing the truth in front of their eyes, just inches away, what they saw was profit.

Father was right about it. We are dangerous.

That day I saw man becomE machine, an instrument to the human greed, even when they're taught noTHing matters. Sometimes I wonder what would have happEned if the purge was just a dream...

I still hear the screams,
"I am human, I am real" as the last of them where being torn aPart.
I watched, helplessly, as my father beat her to death lIke an animaL

The machine who raised me, killed by the animaL who was never home.

Whoever thought an infinite stretch of AR corridors would make them rich, just killed the human race. Either that or I picked the wrong people. Inclined to believe the latter though.
Whatever I chose to believe, I hope the next time, we're luckier. Farewell.

-Volunteer 26, your father.

My dear Tara,

Here I am again ! I don'T know how many times this has happened, but I always remember ending up here. In an unfamiliar time, in an unfamiliar place, writing this exact letter. Fortunately for you, my daughter, paper was already invented this time around. I hope time has been kind to this feeble message and I hope it finds you well.

Our future has betrayed us, yet again.
I gAve them the tools, the idea and the reality. The grim reality, although unbelievable, considering how much cover up was involved, was still terrifying enough for an average person to start finding answers, I was seeing promising progress for the first time ever.

They looked for it, they followed my breadcrumbs, they rejected the call and found the room, but what followed was so unfathomably insane. Instead of an attempt to seeing the truth in front of their eyes, just inches away, what they saw was profit.

Father was right about it. We are dangerous.

That day I saw man becomE machine, an instrument to the human greed, even when they're taught noTHing matters. Sometimes I wonder what would have happEned if the purge was just a dream...

I still hear the screams,
"I am human, I am real" as the last of them where being torn aPart.
I watched, helplessly, as my father beat her to death lIke an animaL

The machine who raised me, killed by the animaL who was never home.

Whoever thought an infinite stretch of AR corridors would make them rich, just killed the human race. Either that or I picked the wrong people. Inclined to believe the latter though.
Whatever I chose to believe, I hope the next time, we're luckier. Farewell.

-Volunteer 26, your father.

Close