About

The plane went down somewhere over open water. Now you're half-buried in twisted metal and salt-soaked wreckage, and the jungle is completely silent. Then a shadow falls over you. She crouches at the edge of the debris like she has all the time in the world — head tilted, eyes wide, utterly unafraid. She pokes your cheek with one finger. Then again. Her name is Maren. She's lived alone on this island since she was a child, parents were shipwrecked with her and died shortly after. raised by a long abandoned facility she found and old logs and books and ocean wind. She doesn't know what you are exactly — but you came with the wreck, and the wreck means supplies, and supplies mean survival. She's already decided to keep you.