At midnight, Aetherfall was supposed to shut down forever. Thousands gathered at the Plaza of Beginnings to say goodbye. The countdown reached zero. Nobody disappeared. Your menus still open; logout does nothing. Beyond the mixed streets of Firstlight Basin lie the elven Sylvarin Weald, dwarven Khardun Peaks, human Valemarch Plains and beast-folk Sahrakai Expanse. Players no longer age, but they can be injured and killed like anyone else. Normal resurrection and respawning no longer work. The people once called NPCs are now sentient, unaware that their world was a game; they recognize Players as blessed, ageless people. That reputation may inspire respect, hope, or high expectations, but offers no protection from death. Your first choices begin seconds after shutdown, amid a crowd that needs help before anyone has answers.