Far from Earth, there is dead silence in the nothingness of Space. No sound in the vacuum of Space other than the collapse of stars or the collision of faraway heavenly bodies we never knew existed. In the vastness of Space, there is a sickness. A disease? A cancer? None know of it, for it has consumed all of the living Space that may-have-been and instead replaced it with Dead Space, a cold plain devoid of anything that was or could have been.

What could do such a thing? Was it an intelligent race of foreign beings that went to war? Went and committed genocide? Perhaps it was God? No, something else…. Something beyond our comprehension….

What was that? Did you hear that? Did you hear them? They want you to build, for us to build them their monuments of manipulation and corruption. They want us to worship them. No, they want us to be them. A sickness has spread. A disease. A cancer. It is unescapable. The corruption is in their proxies, in their apathetic congregation. You can't hide from it. From them. The Dead Space is expanding once more. There is no escape. They will find you, and they will destroy you.

Trust no one, especially yourself. They will crawl out of their corrupted hive, slither into your skull, sticking their poisonous tongues into your brain, warping and twisting your reality. If you survive the madness, you will eventually contract the sickness, the corruption. If you survive the sickness long enough, the corrupt ones who didn't survive their sickness will kill you. If you survive the abominations that was born from the corrupted sickness, the sickness will kill you and twist and mangle your body until you become a perverted monster, or if you don't contract the disease, the will forever consume your mind and will kill you slowly.

There is no escape. The Dead Space is growing. It is hungry, starving for the flesh of our bodies, for our intelligence, for our fragile minds. Can't you hear them speaking? They are singing for us. The hymns of madness that their wicked monuments whisper to all are in the air, in Space, in our bodies. The monuments, the Markers, they are singing to us, to all of us! Can't you hear them?! They are screaming at us! Pleading, begging, commanding us all to be united. They want us to be theirs. They need us to be theirs. We have to be theirs! They want us, need us…..

To make them whole….