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re: The Story of the Island


What's that sound? It's a crashing, thundering sound.. waves. That's the sound of waves. As the fog of blackness begins to lift you feel the sand shift underneath your skin and the smell of the wild fills your nose.

As your eyes open you take in the sea, followed by the beach and then a moment of fear as you claw at the object in your forearm. Then the ground trembles and in awe you gaze up at a massive creature.

Where are you? Who are you? How did you get here? These are a few of the many questions that passes your mind.

As you stop to think about who you are, at best you can pull together faint pieces of your past that as still covered in thick fog, that's if you can remember anything.

This is the island, and it is your dangerous world now. Adapt, live and survive the best you can.


As you survive, fight, scratch your way to your next meal or remaining warm you notice that thing embedded into your arm starts glowing. You move your arm to look at it and suddenly it flashes a light before your eyes. 

You can read it, and understand it, you can even interact with it, with your thoughts. It's informing you on the weather, your current location and it has your vitals.

Before your mind can start questioning things it gives you information on how to make things, what is needed to craft things that will make survival easier.

What put this in your arm? How does it know what it knows? 


When the moment of death comes from the wild or fellow survivors of the island, its almost like breaking out of a vivid nightmare.

Except you take in your surroundings and realize its not a nightmare.

And the horrid end that brought you to this moment was true.

Why did you come back from that? How did you come back from that?

What is forcing you to continue living in this forsaken land?

My strength undying, my hunger never ending, my hate ever raging, my passion ravaging, my Honor unbreakable.
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