After awakening from a deep sleep, I got my suit on, shook the rust off, and managed to pry the airlock open to this familiar place only to quickly discover the environment outside has changed dramatically.
Where are... The posts?
The columns of color?
The endless hustle and bustle of forumites?
My old regalia and titles, they have been stripped of me.
It seems nothing is what it once was, I concluded.
It is now the last day of this place, and I've spent 12 days interacting with the local tribe still present here in these lands. Much of these denizens I can not recognize. Prior installations from the old era are still extant, such as the venerable "Chatterbox" and "What Are You Listening To?" Even the center for trading posts, where I've been exchanging most of my conversation in, is still experiencing a small amount of activity.
As I revisit these old haunts; These remnants of a bygone time, I'm reminded how much it all meant to me. I can still make out many faces from the old world, many of whom are still inhabiting the forum. To my surprise, they also carry with them what once was and though the landscape has become old and barren, Thanks to the good folk who still call this place home the memories - both old and new - the charms, and the stories of this great, forgotten land have come back to me through my short stay here.
They will live on.
Back into my cryo pod.
This is my signature. There are others like it, (Well... Probably not, they're probably better) but this is mine.