Characters watch in silence.

This is the rabbit hole.

mask@gardenofremembering:~$>
mask@gardenofremembering:~$> ls

Hello.

mask@gardenofremembering:~$> help

This is the garden.

We changed the name when the world ended. No need to remind us of what we lost, right? So we changed it. We used the patterns already established to obfuscate the illicit, and we obfuscated the licit. We changed the name and we forgot. The contents moved.
They no longer tied to that which was lost.

But that could mean almost anything. Even now we obfuscate. We mention nothing specific. No great wars, no circular hypertext, no libraries, no anglers, no scary sisters plotting in their corners. There of course was no series of dreamers, no random phrases applied to just as random pretties. No, these nightmares were perfectly planned, flawlessly meaningful, arranged impeccably by date.

There is no recollection here.

Do not enter the garden.

mask@gardenofremembering:~$> wtf

It is said that the internet is forever.

This is not true. Things get lost, times change, people forget.

mask@gardenofremembering:~$> _
My grandfather's grandfather once stood in the presence of the Revan. It is hard to believe. They say we once lived on the surface and walked in the light of suns and moons. It is hard to believe. Here, the light of the Infinite Engine warms our skin and lets us look upon our faces. The Revan said to dedicate each newborn child to the machine. It is the first touch they feel when they emerge from their mother's bodies. The Revan said to give our dead to the machine. It takes back all that it gave them through the years and returns it to us as food, as medicine. Our homes are built and heated from the bodies of our dead. No one understands when I ask the question, "Would it seem strange?" What did we give up when we swore ourselves to the service of the Revan?