Above the jungle canopy you perceive the flat top of a great Ziggurat, mirage-like in the stifling humidity of the Viridian Shroud. You have never seen its like, and yet it is familiar in every way. The polished stone edifices, the metallic scent on the air, an inescapable enigma pulling at the very fabric of your being. Doggedly you struggle on, a master of fate and yet in the end mastered by fate.