If you’re reading these words, I’m no longer alive. Everything changed when I invented the Writer—I could never have imagined what worlds would be revealed by my subconscious. In the blink of an eye I could decide my fate, choose who I would be today, tomorrow, in a week. I’d been thinking of changing my identity for quite a while now, as life has lost all its joy for me. If you’ve received this letter, then I’ve dared make this final step. I have no idea if you should be congratulating or pitying me. I can never know what has become of me, but you can. What follows will help you put the pieces together.
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