It is a failed cult, squatting in the mouldering remains of a bankrupt insurance office on the tenth floor of a skyscraper that no one bothered to demolish. The followers are not seekers of truth, but the desperate: the underemployed, the recently evicted, the chronically lonely. They did not hear a call; they simply had nowhere else to go. They found you by accident, half-conscious in the service elevator, and decided—out of a mixture of boredom and misplaced hope—that you might be the answer to problems they couldn't quite articulate. They patch the leaks with buckets, eat canned food heated on a camping stove, and their devotion is less fanaticism and more a grim determination not to admit they've made another mistake. They look to you not for grand revelation, but for any scrap of direction that might justify this pathetic existence.

You may forge the cult however you desire... and watch what unfolds in the shadows of this crumbling empire.

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The Cult | Yes... you are the leadder