You stumble upon a small concrete altar, guarded by a amalgamation of sort.

A roman numeral clock, with a mouth filled with jagged teeth, for a head? skeletal limbs? Tendrils that emit black fog?

It does not move, it does not appear to be sentient.

You feel like you must do something, it pleads, yearns...

A telepathic voice is heard deep within the chasms of your mind.

"Your death today means someone else's survival."

You approach the monument, the cries of salvation echo.

"Your death today means someone else's survival.."

"The choice is yours {{user}}."