The entire game takes place in an imaginary town where the people's religion/philosophy is

called Deformism —it is heavily influenced by Nietzsche, Artaud, Bataille, but also Gnosticism,
the Bible, and even phrenology. The highest authority in the town is a bishop named Father
Mayor.

Deformists believe that the world, and everything in it, is God. However, God himself was
created by Marraco 1, a demon who dwells in another plane (Deleuze’s chaos or virtuality),
while God is the actual cosmos. This demon creates beings at random and destroys them just
as arbitrarily. By accident, he created an immortal being: God. Ashamed of being immortal
(something that set him apart from the other creations) God chose to flee the demon’s world
and spend eternity in the abyss.

Alone, God began to despise his own condition and long for death, to the point that he forgot
who he was and even that he was immortal. This weakened him, making him mortal.
Eventually, the demon reappeared in the abyss and struck him with a war hammer. The dead
parts of God formed the world, and now they must reunite by deforming it —exhausting all of
its possibilities to restore the original state of plenitude.

The “Holy See” is, in fact, one of God’s eyes —the only part of him that was not entirely
destroyed. Deformation rituals involve sealing newborns’ eyes and mouths while reshaping
their skulls to allow them for a kind of telepathy. This enables people to share their
perceptions with one another, experiencing others’ sight, taste, and even thoughts. Clerics are
the only ones allowed to keep their faces, under the pretense of guiding the people toward
their highest deformation potential.

The town is divided into two factions: the Joyful and the Prodigal. Both seek to push the
deformation process to its limits, but in different ways:

a) Prodigals harm their bodies to break their limits. They take mutilation to the brain itself
(through lobotomies and neurotoxins) as a path to salvation. They believe that if they stop
thinking and categorizing bodies, all will reveal themselves as one, and deformation will meet
no resistance. For them, salvation lies in accelerated deformation.

b) Joyful ones see dance, gift-giving, and care as ways to dissolve boundaries without risking
life. They believe that what is given retains a part of the giver, and bodies deform by offering
themselves to one another. They oppose the forced blind-mute vow, at least for minors. For
them, salvation lies in productive deformation.

The game begins with the town isolated under the Mantle, a dome-like cloth created by
Marraco that cuts it off from the outside world. Also, it makes impossible watching at sky,
which is a problem since their rituals are intended to coincide with certain celestial
movements. You play as a newly ordained cleric who has just regained his eyes and mouth.
The church tasks you with unifying the Joyful and Prodigal factions, taking profit of the
Mantle drama.

The Prodigal seek to use technology to destroy the Mantle, but they ultimately turn it into a
business opportunity: Everything you buy will go toward the Mantle cause. Meanwhile, the
Joyful choose to adapt to the Mantle, aiming to compose with it. In the end, uniting the two
factions proves impossible, and you are forced to reject both.

1
That’s a reference to a really unknown Catalan mythology. There was a deity called Marraco, usually
represented as a reptile. Originally it was a kind of terrible but really important deity, nowadays is a
cute dragon that some councils recreate to walk him around during the festival season and sell some
keychains with its drawing. Also, the etymology of Marraco is really unclear, and that encouraged me
to give his name to the demon of my game.
The Joyful ones “happy deformation,” without risk or pain, recalls the productivists you
mention in Dark Deleuze:

The most naive productivists sentimentally cherish creation and novelty for
their own sake, whether as dewy-eyed admiration for the complexity of nature
or a staunch Voltairine defense of all types of diversity.

The Prodigal, on the other hand, embrace “accelerated deformation” but interpret it as a form
of personal development or individual empowerment through techno-deformation. They’re
also sort of “ultra-rationalists against reason”, and harming not only their skulls but even his
brains:

The trouble then with either accelerationism is that neither takes the process far
enough, which is to say, all accelerationism is conditional because it fails to
surrender to the outside. As such, Land dresses his fascism up as an athleticism to
hide the cowardice of defending the forces of this world, namely, the courthouse
of reason, the authority of the market, and a religious faith in technology.

There are two possible endings, but they all culminate in the protagonist undergoing a kind of
Dark Deleuzian conversion: 1) Bringing down the Mantle, causing the town’s destruction; 2)
Piercing the Mantle to escape.

This might be a bit confusing—I’ve summarized all the lore in a single page. However, the
following three tales (written long before the game takes place) will explain everything more
clearly within the game, likely as cinematics or similar sequences.
 I – CREATION

This one has two versions, the prodigal and the gracious one, very similar, but with important
differences:

Prodigal version

After leaving behind the Lower World, God was completely enveloped by the abyss. Though
he missed his father, he could not bear the fate imposed upon him, and so he believed that
leaving was the only possible path to redemption.

Marraco does not create new beings except by destroying those that already exist; it
performs both acts in a single repetitive movement. When its children degrade and annihilate
one another, they do nothing but express the life force of the Marraco, the uncreated demon
upon which all depends and from which all emerges.

God was the only creature incapable of expressing such force, which allowed him to retain
his integrity even after enduring the worst imaginable torments. His unbreakable health
isolated him from other creatures, for it rendered him as incapable of affecting them as of
being affected by them.

Even knowing that the Marraco acted purely by chance, and that his immortality was
nothing more than an accident, God's humiliation was so heavy that he chose to leave the
Underworld and dwell in the abyss, where he would forever feign his death.

He embarked on the journey with determination, but it was not until God found himself
utterly alone that sorrow and regret took hold of him, and then he longed to return to the
Underworld. Unfortunately, he had forgotten the way back, and the more time passed, the
blurrier his memories became.

His memory emptied, and in the end, he even forgot his imperishable health. This made him
vulnerable to the life force he had never known, and he quickly fell ill because of it. God
surrendered entirely to his own decay, beginning to wither away alongside his sorrow and
regret.

No longer recognizing himself and on the verge of perishing, God saw something rushing
toward him at great speed, and with effort, he turned his gaze to it. It was a colossal golden
hammer, wielded by Marraco.

God’s dying form exploded into a thousand pieces when the Golden Hammer struck him,
hastening what was already an imminent death.

His entire body was shattered —except for one eye, which saw everything. The fragments of
his ravaged flesh formed the Higher World and the beings that inhabit it. Now, the pieces of
God must reunite to bring him back to life, but they will not be able to do so until each one
remembers their shared past.

To recover true knowledge, we must first forget what we believe we know. Our flesh must
be deformed until it has traversed all its possible states, until everything has transformed into
everything else, and only then will the original unity of God be restored, along with it, a
perpetual health.
Joyful version

Far from the Lower World, God was embraced by darkness. Though he loved his father, he
did not feel worthy of his destiny, and so he chose to leave. This was the redemption God
sought for himself.

The Marraco creates new beings from those that already exist; it assembles and dismantles all
at once, doing so ceaselessly. When its children dance and exchange gifts, they are merely
expressing the life force of the Marraco, the immortal entity upon which all depends and
from which all emerges.

For some reason, that force did not manifest through God, and despite the celebrations and
orgies held in his name, he never partook in them, for he always felt complete, sated with
pleasure. He engaged with no creature, as he was as incapable of affecting them as of being
affected by them.

God knew that the Marraco’s actions lacked purpose and that his satiety was granted to him
by accident, yet the humiliation he felt because of it eventually drove him to abandon the
Underworld and enter the darkness, intent on spending eternity imagining the communion
that had been denied to him.

He never looked back, and only when he was alone in the abyss did sorrow and guilt take
hold of him. He longed to return home to the Underworld, but to do so, he had to remember
the way back, and with each passing moment, his memories became harder to recall.

He grew confused, no longer aware of his unwavering satiety, and the life force he had never
been able to express flooded his body with passions and needs. God surrendered entirely to
his starvation, to his chastity, and began to wither away alongside his guilt and sorrow.

No longer knowing who he was, struggling to remain conscious, God sensed something
rushing toward him, and with great effort, he turned to face it. He found an immense golden
hammer, wielded by the Marraco.

God’s frail body shattered into more than a thousand pieces when struck by the Golden
Hammer, which did nothing but hasten his end.

Only one of his eyes remained intact in its original form, and it saw everything that
transpired. The fragments of his battered flesh shaped the Upper World and the beings that
dwell within it. The pieces of God must come together for him to live again, but they will only
succeed if they all remember the past they share.

To recover that knowledge, the only one that matters, we must discard what we believe we
know. Our being must be altered until all possibilities have been exhausted, until everything
has blended into everything else. Only then will the primordial unity of God be restored, and
with it, an everlasting fullness.
 II – REVELATIONS

The healer Nalmes could discern what ailed a sufferer just by locking eyes with them. Just as
Nalmes discovered his patients’ illnesses through their eyes, they had to uncover them
through his, for at a very young age, he took a vow of silence and never verbalized a
diagnosis.

This was always his method, but when he came face to face with death, he broke his oath to
speak. Moments before perishing, the healer Nalmes glimpsed the illnesses of the future and
evaluated them to aid the generations he would never meet.

For this purpose, he uttered his final words, recorded by his student, Boher Bemu. Those who
benefit from these writings will not hear their own voice in them but that of Nalmes. In this
way, embracing his teachings, the reader will carry Nalmes with them forever, and he will
show them the paths toward a future where they may reunite with their brethren in God.

First, Nalmes spoke thus:

«It is not with my eyes that I perceive the ailments of others, but with my entire flesh. The
vibrations of my brain extend throughout my body and resonate with those of others. It is
the law of attraction among equals, a remnant of God’s unity. Though I cannot see those who
have yet to be born, I recognize them as my equals, and they draw me as much as I draw
them. That is why these words I now utter are for them and for me, for we were and shall be
the same once more».

I tried to make him forget about this matter and suggested we go somewhere peaceful so he
could die in tranquillity, but Nalmes closed his eyes and continued speaking:

»Now that my eyes are closing, the future opens before me. The deformation of the body and
perception will reach a new level, and practices that seem bold to us today —such as
prolonged fasting and self-laceration— will be laughable to those reading me now, who will
have developed new methods to achieve the same ends with greater efficiency. The vow of
silence I have upheld for almost my entire life will also seem ridiculous to them, for even the
most cowardly creature of the future will undergo sacrifices incomparable to mine.

»Healers will no longer dedicate themselves to preserving the bodies of the sick; instead, they
will deform them endlessly, making them undergo all their possible states, unconcerned with
inflicting pain. However, they will avoid taking their patients’ lives, for the beings that would
be reborn from them would have to start their cycle of transformation anew.

»The skulls of newborns will be shaped to avoid forms that inhibit the attraction of bodies.
Thanks to this, they will be able to send their thoughts directly to others without the need for
speech. This will also render perceptions no longer private, allowing them to see through
other beings at will. Furthermore, physiological needs will cease to be ‘needs’. The body's
vibration, which is currently amplified and preserved by rest, will instead be sustained
through mutual resonance, becoming infinite. Eating and drinking serve the same function
and will likewise be abandoned. For this reason, all except members of the clergy will seal
their mouths and eyes, but they will keep their noses to breathe and their ears to hear what
happens in the distance».

The healer Nalmes suddenly opened his eyes. He looked at me and, in a faint voice, said:
«My truth has just died with me, but what you have written seems alive. Now what...?».

Before he could finish his question, Nalmes collapsed. I held him for a few minutes, looking
into his eyes, trying to answer him.
 III – FATHERS

When Father Council, founder of the Deformist Church, reached nine hundred years of age,
more than ten cloaks covered him, yet he could not find warmth. He awaited his death in
silence, within the Great Eye of God, until one day a storm broke out and shook him. Then he
cried out to the subjects dancing around him:

«As I swore by God, whose unified and perfect image triumphs over those that foretell my
death, my son Mayor shall succeed me as bishop this very day, he will take you as his
acolytes, and the Great Eye will become his residence».

All ceased their dancing and bowed before Father Council. Prostrated in reverence and
sharing their thoughts with him, they prayed in unison: «Long live our Father Council
forever!».

Without hesitation, Father Council replied: «Take my son to the capital; there, he will be
anointed as the new bishop of the Great Eye by Priest Grara and Prophet Quisídipes, and
when you bear witness to it, you shall think: Long live Father Mayor forever!».

A few minutes after Father Council had given his command, his son Mayor, who was six
years old at the time, entered the Great Eye, assisted by two servants. Upon seeing his son’s
appearance and his difficulty in moving, Father Council took him in his arms and wept
bitterly.

«What has happened to you?» he asked again and again, until Mayor spoke:

»A lightning bolt struck me as I was heading to one of the village mounds to offer more than
a thousand burnt sacrifices. The pain lasted an eternal and unbearable instant, during which a
voice said to me: ask whatever you wish, and I shall grant it.

»And I, concerned for this people who shall be mine, and yet remain unknown to me, asked
for an elastic mind with which to adapt to their comings and goings, so that I might discern
what is best for them. For tell me, Father, who but you would know how to lead this
people?».

Father Council placed his son before him to look at him face to face, and smiling, he spoke:

»Because you have asked for the right wisdom to govern, and not for a long life, nor riches,
nor the lives of your enemies, behold the lightning has made you wise instead of destroying
you.

»Even if God's unity were defiled by the Golden Hammer of Marraco, it still manifests
through miracles such as this. Through the lightning, parts of God that remained disconnected
are joined once more, and thus, memories long repressed emerge in both halves.

»Tell me, Mayor, do you not now remember, as I remember, that peace, that state of
perfection that, being God, we failed to preserve? I know you remember it, and for that
reason, you must fight. It is toward that glory that you must lead our people, for I will not be
able to do so».

These were Council’s final words, and his son Mayor, with a grimace, showed that he
understood them.