Reese stands and stares closely the Cave still gazes far into the island. In the distance through thw hierographed walls, beyond the clouds that connect the flag in the summit of the island with the universe, the homeostatic dome is barely discernible.
Every time he plays the cards in his hands, voices begin to echo in his mind. Voices that resonate in the gigantic dome and return amplified. The end of his book, “Delusions of Age,” draws near and will soon fall silent.

“Hierograph us, how did our companions fell?”

There remains a story, yet another story, small, to fill the great void of their departed friends. A tribute remains to be paid for the last fallen of the Anemaki. To those who, with their sacrifice, raised the principles of the tribe to the highest point, enabling anyone, from the countless wandering fragments, to see from afar the principles and ideals that govern the Anima Key. And if they want and can, to approach or otherwise take their own path.

“If you all could look back at Anima key from the top of the isle, the beauty we share, what we saw from through a thousand waves, I can’t imagine what you could do! We were all so lustfull for wild goats, you might swim all the way there for a bit of delicious revenge!”

Ido: “Then, Reese, remember this, Grizzly and Daman, Fyso and Aster, Trina and Oian, Mitso the last, all died. In their honor, I propose that the tribe be renamed. Let the new name be the tribe of Animaki.”