A/N: This was inspired by my recent obsession with the game, the fact the one I drafted first isn't ready yet, and I caught ill yesterday. My understanding of SIGNALIS lore isn't extensive. Made with the best I had on my mind.

Disclaimer: SIGNALIS is the property of rose-engine. This is a fan work based on their IP. No copyright infringement intended.

Dearest Monika

The personal quarters of the director insulated its occupant directly from the chaos and horror that permeated the facility but not the presence of both. The sirens fruitless blared their alarms and no doubt the warning lights flashed, lending an eerie lightshow to the disintegrating state of the halls outside, a hideous shadow theater where abominations shambles and danced about, replacing the once-orderly office life of the administrative wing. He kept thumbing his Type 75, unsure of his options, well aware that the steel sliding door to his quarters can keep hell out only for so long.

The man sat down, staring at a computer terminal, local moonshine filling his glass tumbler as he sat staring at his computer terminal. So far only the technical teams have kept the communication arrays operating, transmitting a steady flow of information back to the capital, merely broadcasting live the disaster that struck the world. Similarly, the power was still on for all the good it does.

It would've been silent save for situation reports heard on the radio and the music from a vinyl record player. None of the upbeat, Nation-approved marches played, to play that garbage is to simply push him over the edge. He'd rather stare into the abyss in contemplation. He's no longer in control anyway. And to accompany the growing panic and despair in the airwaves was an obscure aria:

Morituri te salutant
Vitale salutatis
Morituri te salutant...

There was no point in procrastinating. With one last swig he began to compose his message, each clack of the keyboard a lead weight on his shoulders for by typing he fully admitted the terrible truth.

Aus: AEON Rotfront
Nach: Oberster Revolutionsrat, Heimat
Priorit├Ąt: GAMMA

Dearest Monika:

By now, the news of the outbreak on Rotfront reached Heimat. Losing contact of Leng was the least of our problems and to think this was shortly after our victory over Buyan!

All over the moon in mere cycles everything we built in freedom from the Empire has come crashing down. It seems that a plague has hit us, attacking gestalt and replika alike. But there's more to it.

To call this an anomaly is an understatement, the cosmic beast we sought to tame has broken free from its chains and turned on us, killing also our pathetic efforts to search for an alternative. The corps of replikas it powered have mutated and it began devouring the body of the Nation. It's dragging us to its den to feast on us later.

Whatever you may hear about what has happened out here, know this: our daughter did not die gloriously in battle. I killed her. My pride killed her. The very hubris that inspired me to search for an alternative to bioresonance that built the old Empire's power and cursed us all to... oblivion? We've lost the race and the dead empress and her forebears in whatever corner of hell they're rotting in has the last laugh.

I'm sorry you have to hear this from me. I may not be able to see you or her again. And I yearn for things to be different somehow. That she had taken the last ship out instead of staying here to please us both.

Your loving servant to both you and our cause,
Oskar Kisiragi
Director, AEON Rotfront

He pressed SEND, followed by a loading screen which indicate how long his message would take to transmit. His hand gripped the pistol, slowly moving on its own accord, muzzle against his temple. There's a dignity to this as opposed to melting into tar-

The floor grates popped open and something pounced at him before he could flick the safety.

A/N: If you haven't noticed, the aria and its lyrics are taken from the wonderful Brood War Aria composed by Glenn Stafford, made for Brood War expansion of the OG StarCraft from 1998. The fic's title and letter is inspired by another track, Dearest Helena.