"With this nation's death, the thread of prophecy is severed. Restore a saved game to restore the weave of fate, or persist in the doomed world you have created"

I keep poking at a short story based on a literal fever dream I had, where I woke up from the torment nexus and learned we were all reactionary war criminals being rehabilitated by being forced to live in the hell we'd fought to make, over and over again until we learned better. That whole line of thinking is real cognitohazard shit, though.

When line goes up enough it overflows the buffer and clobbers the stack.

Me when my.last darkest dungeon character just won't die