ROSE: At every moment, it seemed like existence itself was stained onto broken glass.
ROSE: Pushing us all into our worst selves, morose, violent, ill-tempered and miserable.
ROSE: Like the playthings of a cruel god first, and people second.
ROSE: From the day we started this game until this very moment, I've expected to die for good in some way or another at its hands.
ROSE: An elusive sickness, one I've carried with me for all these years.
ROSE: Visions of timelines where this sickness overwhelms me.
ROSE: Paths where Jade fails to enter the Medium, you stop talking to us, and after Dave returns to the past, I live out the last months of my life alone.
ROSE: Paths where Vriska's ancestor, strung out on relevance, puts the blade to us, a reality whose last moments are unbearably bright.
ROSE: As I spoke with Dirk, he was working on a robot. We talked a lot of... culture.
ROSE: Of our responsibilities to this newborn culture, both as gods of a new world, and as flawed people who came from old ones.
ROSE: It felt so familiar... but when did that happen?
ROSE: It would happen often, too, these strange echoes of lives not lived.
ROSE: Meeting my own eyes in dreambubbles, for just a moment, before we both look away.
ROSE: Hoping that one of us has found meaning in our position.
ROSE: I can't say any have for sure...