For this text, I offer this remembrance: a city, a single soul. A deserter, an abandoned communications outpost, and the chilling, breathtaking terror of the Tibetan plateau. Here dwell Commander Wang, whose eyes show no white, the Japanese officer whose face is gone save for a gaping mouth, monstrous, mutated scorpions of black crystal, and a spring that runs the color of fresh blood. Creatures lost when the ancient Buddhist kingdom of Shambhala vanished are reappearing, one by one. Concurrently, other similar regions across the globe are also shaking off the dust of history, emerging once more…