Category: Reviews

Since opening their Homestead region of Natthimmel as a destination in Second Life in 2024, I’ve become an avid follower of Konrad Rune (formerly Kaiju Kohime) and Saskia Rieko, through their many region designs over the last three years. Frequently drawing on locations from the physical world – such as Göbekli Tepe, which formed the basis for their first build (of which I wrote about in 2023), or more recently, the paired lighthouses of St. Joseph, Michigan (which I covered in late 2025).

However, some of Konrad and Saskia’s designs are drawn purely from the realms of the imagination, such as with 2025’s  Ythari – The echo of silent stars (see here for more). This is also the case for their first design for 2026, which actually opened over a month ago in late February, but with personal things being what they are, I only recently managed to visit.

Entitled The Array, this build is an engaging mix of fantasy and the imagination. A place which, in many respects, defies logical description but which weaves a tale all of its own within one’s head, the notes accompanying the setting helping to open the door to imaging.

Then the vision came.

Not a dream—visions in The Array were never dreams. They were memories, borrowed from the Primordium itself.

Lira saw a vast ocean, black and endless. She saw the Primordium as it once was: a drifting seed, searching for a place to anchor. She felt its loneliness, its hunger, its ancient purpose. And then she saw something else—something rising from the deep, something that made the Choir’s harmonics tremble with fear. The vision snapped away.

The Choir scattered, their lights dimming as they drifted back into the fog. The Veins beneath Lira’s hands throbbed once, sharply, like a heartbeat skipping. Abyssara was preparing for something. Lira stood alone on the terrace, the Mist swirling around her, the echoes of the Choir fading into silence. She didn’t know what the Primordium had shown her—or why it had chosen her—but she knew one thing with absolute certainty.

The city was waking up.

– Natthimmel description, February 2026

For some reason, this description put me in mind of assorted Arthur C. Clarke short stories, including The City and the Stars. I’ve no idea why, as there is little in the way of any form of connection between Natthimmel’s The Array and that story, or indeed, The Nine Billion Names of God, another of Clarke’s stories which for some reason dropped into my thinking = although the idea of something long asleep waking to make a dramatic change in the status quo does sort-of track (with The Array having a City wakening, Clarke’s story having a deity).

To be clear, The Array owes nothing to Clarke so far as I’m aware; it was to his shorter stories to which my mind flowed for some subconscious reason. Rather, The Array is a place of glorious mystery; a city of geometric shapes bought together in a manner that is both familiar an alien, interspersed with organic growths peppered with bioluminescent stands and ripples, some of which appear connected to the buildings. Bioluminescence is also much in evidence in the plants growing from the wetland from which the city appears to be rising, the plants both familiar and also somewhat alien as well.

Some of the buildings in the city can be entered, revealing more exotic growths, whilst stairways offer routes to upper levels – although some might be a little difficult to reach, whilst deep in the city is an events space. Very little here seems to be static, lights and shapes roll across walls and floors and while they don’t move themselves, the strands and trails of bioluminescence etched into many of the walls and the twinkling of luminescence among the trees further adds to the sense of motion and life.

Lifeforms and some very Earthly technology can be found within the setting. In the case of the former, fish float in the air whilst fantasy-like gossamer creatures float and “swim” through the air in and around the city’ towers. These latter creatures seem to take two forms – one fish-like, the other more plant-like. Some are blue, some are orange, all drift apparently without a care for those who visit the city and explore, ethereally aloof in their drifting. Elsewhere, dragon-like creatures might be found, both near the Landing Point and within the city itself.

In all, a place very much worth visiting for its mystery and ability to suggest stories and tales as to its origins and future.

SLurl Details

• Natthimmel: The Array (NewMoon, rated Moderate)

I came across Falling Tide in the Destination Guide recently, where the description pricked my curiosity, so off I hopped to take a look.

Falling Tide is a weathered coastal town where old songs, faded lights and quiet stories linger in the salt air. Wander the docks, paths and streets, find hidden markers, listen, remember. Take your time, explore, let the place get under your skin.

– Falling Tide description

A part of the Winchester estate operated by Clara Winchester (clarabellwinters) and Daniel Winchester, Falling Tide occupies a Full region located between, but not connected to, two other of the estate’s regions. Several of the other regions in the estate also have their own public areas, although for this article I’m focussing solely on Falling Tide.

The Landing Point for the region as given by the Destination Guide, sits within the centre of the little town occupying half the setting. A second Landing Point (neither is strictly enforced) is located on the north-west coast of the region, atop a deck built out over the water. This appears to be favoured by the teleport HUD and boards.

The town Landing Point has a giver for the Winchester Group HUD, which can be used to access other public areas in the estate, whilst equally close to the Landing Point is a teleport board which does much the same. Both are Experience driven, so do be sure to accept it if prompted.

The coastal Landing Point, reached via the TP HUD or whilst exploring, has two notecard givers in the form of empty crates. One offers the opportunity to find stories about Falling Tide scattered around the region (six in all), the other offers visitors the chance to join The Lost Playlist Hunt, which comes with its own back-story.

The town is very much as its description states: somewhat rundown and past its prime but still marching forward and offering various attractions – notably the art gallery – with the old motel offering visitors opportunities to stay a while. At the southern end of the town and extending eastwards is a row of six modestly-size cabins available for rent, so please be aware of this when exploring so as to avoid trespass into rented units.

Water forms a good part of the setting, with a large bay separating it from the region to the east, and the land breaking into a couple of islands to the north-east, reached via a tarmac road surface. However, it appears these two islands have been recently formed as a result of tidal incursion, despite the setting’s name, which has washed away parts of the road in separating the islands from the rest of the land, leaving the locals to place a couple plank bridges to cross the new channels.

It is this outer landscape to the east and north of the town which really brings home the tired beauty of the setting. The buildings, from the lighthouse to the boat repair shop all carry a sense of age and of slipping gently into retirement. Where once tourists might have roamed, birds and waterfowl prevail, notwithstanding the presence of a tramp steamer sitting just off the northern coast.

This quiet sense of age, coupled with the dour grey sky actually makes Falling Tide very photogenic – although some tidying-up of footpath / road prims around the town is in order to remove overlaps and the resultant texture flickering. The outlying islands certain offer plenty of opportunities for photography, and more can be found in following the outlying roads and trails.

Serene in its gentle aging, quietly linked to the wider Winchester estate and even with opportunities for a bit of boating on the waters, Falling Tide makes for an unhurried visit.

SLurl Details

Falling Tide (Winchester Sound, rated Moderate)