blah blah strider feels blah

[brojob]

[These days, when Dirk sleeps, he no longer finds himself confined to a waking world of amethyst walls and black-shelled people. His every movement doesn't have to stay masked, his existence dictated by skating under the radar of what seem to be equally ruthless and asinine political machinations. Instead, he spends his resting hours floating freely in and out of memories, sometimes of familiar places, sometimes not. It's not often that the latter happens, but when it does, it often means company, for better or for worse.

So, when his consciousness resurfaces to find himself standing on a hillside, staring straight up at a jagged row of glitched, white letters spelling out the name "HOPYWOODOO," Dirk's brain kicks into gear and his insides do some pretty impressive acrobatics.

It couldn't be.]