"I'm going where the cold wind blows."

A dark, industrial, Dungeon Synth-inspired fantasy about you and your lover dying for the sake of mankind.



Mankind's over, and you aren't the heroes to save it.





You can ask anyone living under the UN's mandates why humanity has been dragged down to the depths it was currently chained in. Ask the followers of the God-substitutes and they swear it was a judgement day of sodomy and punishment for the race that had hated none more than their own and wanted nothing more than to brutalize the planet made in the image of Him. Other's explain away with a global-scale conflict beginning in Central Asia, a gaping wound that spread over the Earth and hadn't healed since. The only thing left for the Nü-human race to do was wear the disease. Most fortunate sons made it to other colonies across the Solar System, under better off administrations and governments. Sometimes they visit Earth, giving enough resources to scratch by another generation, and then drift right back off into Deep Space.

No matter what the cause of the Collapse was, the U.N and whatever fringe tribes that huddle around fires like Cro-Magnons allied into a single unitary government, and worked with the leftovers that the Earth was generous to leave them. The afterburns of man resided in the expanse of the Euro-Asian Mandate, anything beyond the Atlantic Seaboard was described as a different planet in of itself. The land had been broken down, replaced by a deep-red ocean of blood. Corpses of the former-landscape's citizens molded into archipelagos and coastlines, a Pangea of demise and mortis. And in this state of absolute death, only did life begin again. Hard-skinned bugs, offshoots of the already well documented mutant Parasits, had been feasting on the continent of flesh, and they have grown to the border of how far they can evolve. From maggot-hordes to masses of evolved, rock-hard life.

Some people worry that eventually they'll run out of flesh to feast on, and will be hungry for more; and eventually cross the sea to Europe. Some wish this away by saying that the track here would leave most of the horde dead, and will only result in a genocide. If the whole horde makes it; it's entirely over.

The U.N Office of Human Affairs promises their people that they have an extremely powerful and secret "Bioweapon", that in the case of this, would be used to wipe them out. So with the word of the great and terrible U.N shielding the people, they rather escape from their bleak existence using a drug known as R-Feel.

R-Feel is an extremely addictive and powerful stimulant that can translate the user's mind into a world, a floor above our own existence where the most desirable fantasies of the user manifest, and when used in a group setting, puts them in a shared-consciousness where it becomes an orgy of whatever they want; however due to the conditions that the citizens live in badly affecting their mental state, this is an extremely unstable and dangerous trip to take, as most of the time it ends in a bad, hazy bloodbath.

It's extremely high in demand, the U.N working alongside domestic and inter-planetary cartels to sell for profit to it's citizens. It keeps them sedated and gives them enough escape to not go postal. However the people are starting to build a tolerance to it; and the demand is spiking. This is where you come in.

Runners are, in essence, battalions. Most of their stories are as repetitive and same-same as clockwork. An expedition into a distressed industrial scape, most of the squad dying and the last one returning with materials for another mass-batch, dying of a disease, and new boots having to be filled. But this one could be different.

UNMIK-17 (United Nations Mission in Khabarovsk) ((This is their 17th attempt)) has made way to a massive, overlooking and omnipresent industrial tower, a rib broken through the skin of Earth in an attempt to escape to the Heavens. Now left dead and rotten, and at it's core it holds the key to possibly intercepting the horde and dissolving it.

Rumors of a multi-billion dollar experiment to breed a race of humans, the ones that predate to the current nü-humans, with extremely powerful physic abilities, could lead way to both advancements of escapism and the military might of the Earth Administration. Most of the squad, who you can't remember due to their gas masks, are dead. It's just you and your lover:


Dragana, A citizen from the Ruthenia-Mandate of the U.N, and one of the few pure things in life you have. You've made it this far with her, maybe you'll live your last moments in her firm embrace.


I strong suggest either listening to this album or this one for a complete vibe-check.