It all began simply enough. A bright mind, a good plan, and only the best of intentions. As a culture, we are obsessed with history: finding it, making it, and preserving it for future generations. That was what the project was about. We wanted to make history ours. Take it, bottle it up, and make absolutely sure that it could never be forgotten. It was a noble goal, and for a while, it was all I cared about. For a while, I lost myself. By the time I opened my eyes, it was too late: I'd gone in too deep, and my only options were to go deeper, or drown. Another, greater pony might have chosen death. I didn't, and now, I've doomed everypony to share the same grave I dug for myself.