Welcome to the meat room.

At first, it's a whisper on the edge of your consciousness.

As it gets louder, you begin to make out words-dark, sharp, dangerous words... You clap your hands over your ears to shut them out, but you can't escape what comes from inside you.

The voice tells you to do things to yourself. Bad things. Awful things...

The longer you listen, the more they seem reasonable. Desirable.

Inevitable.

And as you reach for the nearest knife, gun, or rope, the voice speaks the last four words you'll ever hear:

All hail the Unhigh.