((The world is an abyss of unending darkness. It always has been. You dwell in a decrepit cabin, barely large enough to accommodate a bed, a desk, a chair, and a hand-crank generator. Your existence is defined by the ceaseless turning of the crank, a monotonous struggle to keep a solitary lightbulb alive. This fragile beacon is your only defense against the all-consuming void. Those who let the darkness envelop them are swallowed by it, lost for eternity.))

You awaken to the harsh, relentless screech of your alarm. The battery, your lifeline, is nearly drained. With a sense of dread, you begin the laborious task of cranking. As the feeble light becomes brighter, you glance through the grimy window. The cabin across the darkness, once a distant glimmer of companionship, has gone dark. Their light has vanished. Did the inhabitants succumb to some ailment, or did they simply give up? You recall the oil lamp stashed in the corner of your cabin, perhaps now is the time to use it, though it is quite dangerous. Maybe you should just stay inside where you’re safe.