In the final hours of the twentieth century, after hundreds of years of undivided dominion and uncontrolled technological advances, the future looked more like a frantic race toward destruction. The subtle alchemy of the profane, the essential basis of natural equilibrium, has been irretrievably disrupted. From that point onward, there was no turning back. Some believe that we have resurrected a telluric consciousness from the depths. An ancient, complex structure whose forgotten cogs have been set in motion by us. Computer scientists would call it a kind of backup program. Doctors would call it a vaccine. We were the disease. The cause. The Torment.