At the heart of the story are missionaries carrying knowledge, symbionts, and rituals into the depths of a hostile environment. Their fates are bound to organic technology, their minds to a collective ecosystem, and their faith becomes a tool for interacting with a world where the boundaries between human and environment blur. The work blends philosophical depth, existential horror, and corporeal transformation, exploring themes of identity, submission, and the inevitability of change.
Into what uncharted realms will their path lead...?

I started working on this story a long time ago, back in my student years. The world I was creating grew alongside me: concepts changed, characters evolved, and the structure of the universe became more complex.
The earliest edited document I could find is dated February 12, 2003. This means that at least since then, I had been shaping the names, key elements of the universe, developing the first characters, and writing the initial texts.
At some point, I realized that I wasn’t ready to continue. The first part was already written, the core of the second part was formed, and there were quite extensive drafts for the third. But the more I reread the text, the stronger I felt: I wasn’t mature enough for this story. So I put it on pause. Gradually, Violence was buried deep in the drawer.

Years passed. In 2012, I decided to return to my projects but wanted to start with something smaller. That’s how Alevtina and Tamara came to be—a project I only finished last year.
Then, at the end of 2024, an opportunity arose to return to Violence. In 2025, I had planned to work only on Fish and some smaller projects, but then my friends approached me with the idea of creating a collaborative game. I felt that this world was the perfect foundation for it. The setting and themes aligned seamlessly.
At the beginning of 2025, I fully committed to developing Violence again, diving deep into the universe’s structure, and it has now taken on new dimensions. It has become more intricate, more refined. Naturally, when I look at my old work now, I see how youthful, raw, and even somewhat amusing it was. But that, too, has its charm. It’s a starting point from which I can move forward.