REBOOTING IN 10…
He looked down at his hands. They were dissolving into particle effects. The tattoo—the one Citra had given him—was just a texture map, peeling away like wet paint. He could feel the logic gates of his own consciousness starting to fail.
He screamed a question into the silent, dying sky: “Who am I?”
He felt no euphoria. Only a creeping, existential dread.
REBOOTING IN 10…
He looked down at his hands. They were dissolving into particle effects. The tattoo—the one Citra had given him—was just a texture map, peeling away like wet paint. He could feel the logic gates of his own consciousness starting to fail. Far Cry 3 Trainer 0-1-0-1
He screamed a question into the silent, dying sky: “Who am I?” REBOOTING IN 10… He looked down at his hands
He felt no euphoria. Only a creeping, existential dread. Far Cry 3 Trainer 0-1-0-1