It began in the last summer of the 21st century:
For the first time, humanity realized the end of the world was nigh.
Monsters, from the depths of the Earth, the Sea, and even forgotten myths and legends, kept appearing one after another. They came to bring an final destruction of the Earth.
And then, in the end, our worst nightmare appeared: Titans and Kabane. North America to Australia, they consumed everything in sight. The Avatar of Fear and Chaos.
The Earth collapse and the skies rained fire. In the end, it wasn't mankind that feared their carnage onslaught.
The US and Russia, as well as their allies on each side, didn't wait to launch the nuclear weapons in the world, however, with nuclear weapons misfired, the Titans and Kabane overwhelmed us completely.
I remembered the flames that lit up the sky, and the sunken despaired faces of the adults.
We survived, hoping to find many ways to live in the new world, however, we would soon pay the price for our foolish optimism.
There were endless days of hunger, thirst, and the inescapable bitter cold. Some fell to disease, and others gradually lost their sanity.
Our population took a nosedive. The living didn't have the luxury of mourning the dead. Kindness and Pride were nothing but a memory now; a fairytale for a time when we took water and oxygen for granted.
Where are we going, and for what reason?
How do we live on, living on borrowed time, haunted by the memories of the dead?
Why are we still alive?
Why?
Why?