Bernex, Haute-Savoie, France. The last sparks sputter, glowing and fading as if trying to gulp down lungfuls of air. Night is falling, and quickly. Shadows stretch further like their growing dread, any hope of light is sliding away. It consumes them, until their glow is no more than a fleck of dust in the breath of a beast. The heartbeat dies, a thin wisp of smoke the white flag of a fighting ember.