We live in the Wrong Half of the Wind on a planet yet to be named, a place we simply call the outpost. Our Sky is permanently Clouded, the Stars no longer shine. Men who were once Men hunt us down in Mindless Obedience. The Overlords seek protection from their Conscience.
Solar Winds parch my lips and Weather my cheeks. We must live where No One wants to Live. We are safe only because we have Nothing worth taking. It's as if the Life Blood of the planet is Dripping away. What will we Do when it's gone? How will their Fancy Talk save them then?
Each day our True Face grows closer towards Revelation. The Ugly Men are losing their Fear, rising up out of the Dark. They rip away the suffocating Mask at last, unleashing Death and Mayhem. The lie is like a Burning Worm inside them they must Escape. But today the insane Worm sits upon the Throne, making the decisions of Life or Death.
Yes, I know we call it Life, but all that I see is Dying.
