KSD: "Sometimes they burn hot, the souls in this game. Sometimes they simmer; sometimes they shoot like hot darts through the mid-summer air. I confess that they might not be souls—perhaps they’re amassed memories, or ghosts—but it’d be semantics puzzling out a different term for the golden arrays of lines which arc and twirl and buzz and are the sole living residents of Yaughton, the abandoned English village you explore in Everybody’s Gone to the Rapture. The little lights have names, like Jeremy and Lizzie and Stephen, and they have stories and they have lives, which we gleam through flashbacks written in this same golden electricity. The light is life, and it is the only thing left."