(Music plays for 18 seconds, then stops. Sounds of film reel become louder)

"Welcome. I am Dr. Chandler Tallow, and this is the orientation film for Bunker Four of Parma Initiative. In a moment, you'll be given a simple set of instructions for how you and your Duo Partner will fulfill the responsibilities associated with the Bunker. But first, a little history.

The Parma Initiative was created in 1983, colleagues following in the footsteps of visionaries such as Brendan Greene imagined an island where up to 100 participants would engage in a last-man-standing survival competition; in essence, a battle royale. You and your Duo Partner are currently located in Bunker Four, or The Crossing, and will be for the next five hundred and forty days."

(cut)

"Before the Initiative arrived, Soviet scientists here worked to understand the unique ornithological characteristics of the Island. Not long after the experiments began, however, there was... an accident. And since that time, the following protocol has been observed:

Every 108 minutes a chicken dinner must be won. From the moment the alarm sounds you will have seven minutes to enter the simulation on the micro computer processor,"

(cut)

"-[intro]duction into the program. When the alarm sounds, you and your Duo Partner must enter the simulation. It is highly recommended that you and your partner share loot and stick together. In this manner, you will both stay healthy and (fuzz) it is of utmost importance that when the alarm sounds the chicken dinner be won in a timely fashion. You will notice the simulation changing from time to time-"

(cut)

"-simulation, accounts, and stat tracking will arrive on-"

(cut, music starts again)

"Congratulations! Until your replacements arrive, the future of the project is in your hands. On behalf of Nick, Justin, Mikhail Nevelskoy and all of us at Parma Initiative: thank you. Parmaste, (fuzz) and good luck."

(music slows, sound of film reel winding down until it stops. It is silent for a few seconds)

(Voice of one of the duo watching)

"We're going to need to watch that again."

IT IS IMPORTANT TO NOTE THAT SURVIV.IO IS NOT A SIMULATION

"We have passed eight days out of the score and I cannot remember all of what happened, but I shall recount that which I can.

Of the eighty sailors who entered the storm, only four now remain, and certainly Shimizu will perish before we make port. Our voyage North was laid out simply, the Ryusei left Wakkanai harbor on the 23rd of June under an auspicious, clear sky and a fair wind at our back. Kuga, the ship's navigator, daily checked our course to the Amur River, and I confirmed it was sound. On the third day out of Hokkaido, a fog settled around the ship, no wind and no sound but the crews’ breathing and the first officer chewing a rope cord. Kawaguchi raised his voice: he claimed to have seen a water dragon underneath the waves. He was sent below decks, and there was no more talk of serpents.

“Land,” Shimizu said from the lookout, “Two points to starboard. I see land!” An absurd notion in these open waters, but I saw it for myself through a window in the fog: an Island. I dare not estimate the length of the island as it lay before us, surrounded by fog on either side. Only a spear of land thrust forth at us like Izanagi’s great lance. The island urged us forward, deeper into the mist. My heart sensed then what it knows now: this place was not meant for us. I called the men to their stations, but my cries fell on deafened ears. I aroused the first officer and the crew went back to the posts as the storm fell.

My memory fails me now when called upon to remember the days lost in the squall. I can hear the men shouting, fighting, falling to the deck, blood speared so thickly it stained the fog and the sleeting rain. I think it was Sito who I saw, clinging to the mizzenmast through the crimson gale, but he has disappeared now. I know that I awoke in my cabin, my ears ringing and throat parched. A heavy barrel had been set against the cabin door, the other side was blooded, madly, broken fingernails lodged in the wood. Shimizu I found first in the crew quarters. He lay chained to two other men and stared as I stumbled towards him. Something had caved in his head, a cannonball perhaps. He picked his left eye, the one remaining. The others were found upon the deck, lashed to the shattered masts. We counted only 16 dead, the rest presumed lost to the sea. We buried the 16 in the waters. And that is when the Russian fishing vessel found us.

We are the survivors, the four who emerged from the storm. Myself, Mamiya Rinzo, captain of the Riyusei. Shimizu, the lookout, who lost his right eye and fought in much blood. Kawaguchi, our cook and the youngest of the ship’s crew. He is secured below deck, for the very sight of the sea now puts him to endless screaming. And Kuga, who will not speak to us, but stares in silence at the open seas. Every hour of every day, he is at the fishing vessel’s bow, his eyes searching the expanse. I fear he is searching for the spear, for Izinagi’s great lance."