I love the entire premise of cortex overlap so much, a post-apocalyptic world, no sun to be seen. But I'm a sucker for metaphors and this map resonated with me on a different level that has no connection to a post-apocalyptic world at all.
Like, the entire thing reeks of a metaphor for the death of a person/mind. The hallways like neural paths. A literal memory bank. The sun having gone out, like the light in a person's eyes, 'a light that got snuffed out'. And the end of the map-- this is a game of how close you can get before you're just quoting greek mythology. You get on a boat to leave for the final time, an easy allusion for the departure of a soul. Very charon-taking-you-over-the-river-styx if you get what I'm saying.
And the way that "mold" is corrupting the edge of the memory banks, that these little pixel men are trying to fight off in one final battle? It feels like a painting of what's happening when a brain dies in real time. (Or maybe dementia...). Where the brain is trying, of course it's trying, to stay alive, but it stands no chance against the inevitable.
The fact that you go around and look at these catalogues of memories, good and bad, collecting them like tokens, feels a bit like watching someone's life flash before their eyes. The farm memory was like watching a fond scene of the past for the last time before it slips out of your grasp.
Whether this while vibe was or was not the intent of the creator, I'm uncertain, but I'm gnawing at the bit nevertheless. It resonated with me so so so much. Like seeing a shape in the clouds and being unable to unsee it.