Requirements:

The Histories Will Unravel

This disease will someday consume my entire being, so I shall consign myself early to Nowhere to find my peaceful and painless sleep.

A Slumber Silver

The unraveling is gentle. Night comes, we sleep, and we neither dream nor wake. All of us are Nowhere, the remnants of History strewn about us like a bandage or a blanket. Sleep softly leaves me along with the pain, buried beneath the gentle cold of winter, within the chilled dark. Let this end never leave me. [You have shaped the Histories; set a stone in their foundation; reached a destination; finished the game. The roots of the world run ever deeper. Please accept our congratulations.]

Tarot: Hanged Man