ALONE. MECHANICAL MUSIC FILTERS INTO A WHISPERING, REPETITIVE MURMUR. SOMBER STRIDES OF SKEPTICISM. THE BLUE GLOW IS EMBRACED BY HEAVY BLACK ARMS. CONCRETE HEADSTONES BREAK THROUGH THE ARMS OF THE GHOSTLY SILHOUETTES. EMBODIED IN THOUGHT AND BODY, BUT WITHOUT SOUL. THE LONE SHIFTS. TO THE PLACE WHERE IT ALL BEGAN.