The Old Ones have arrived, and the rules have been rewritten. Humanity’s strongest emotions have become both breeding grounds for monsters and our last weapons.
Despair gives rise to tentacles, greed twists the body, and loneliness draws whispers.
And my family has been bound to a being calling itself the “Family Core.” It says our power comes from the family itself.
So the style of our doomsday survival takes a sudden turn:
While others fight mutant creatures tooth and nail, our whole family pitches in to “help out”;
While others try to avoid mental contamination, we dispel illusions by “exposing hidden cash”;
While others build cold fortresses, we restore an old photograph to upgrade our “home.”
They call us “Ethical Pathwalkers,” mocking the power of our warmth, until we suppress the spawn of evil gods with “the gaze of every aunt and uncle in the family” and cleanse contaminated lands with “the aroma of a family reunion dinner.”
This is a “Family Ethics Survival Manual” from the ruins of the apocalypse.
Rule One: Remember, love is something tangible. Tangible enough that even during the apocalypse, you can’t go without that bottle of soy sauce.
