đ Something is wrong in Ridgedale.
A city surrounded by forest, bordered by mountains, and floating alone in a black void where no stars shine â yet no one questions it. The sky glows with artificial light. The rivers run, the wind blows, the seasons shift⌠all as they always have. Or so the people believe.
đ They donât remember Earth. They donât even remember leaving.
Ridgedale exists inside a sealed pocket dimension â a perfect, uncanny replica of small-town life, suspended in something vast and unknowable. The forests stretch forever, yet no one can map them. Those who wander too far either return changed⌠or never return at all.
âł 1978.
A strange accident. A group of children fall into a coma. When they awaken, the world feels different â like waking from a dream you canât quite remember. People are the same, yet distant. The streets familiar, but wrong in ways you canât explain.
They arenât alone in sensing it. Creatures skulk the edges of town. Whispers crawl beneath floorboards. Some dreams shouldnât be remembered.
đď¸âđ¨ď¸ Ridgedale is alive. Watching. Reacting. Correcting.
There are those who want to understand.
There are those who try to forget.
And there are forces â ancient, cunning, inhuman â that will do anything to preserve the illusion.
Welcome to Ridgedale.
The truth is buried. The cracks are showing.
And youâre not supposed to notice.
