The Old Man stepped into the wastes, time at his feet, a bit of cloth clutched in his worn and tired fingers.Where could these lands lead if not her?Walking on, the wind biting at his clothing, chaffing his skin, he sensed a beast in the night.Ash falls between them, choking the air, drifts and flame and the clouds above; these lands are dead.His fingers find their place upon his rifle, the wood familiar, comforting, the steel raised.With a snarl, they found each other in that darkness.Emerald eyes followed the scene, a strip of fabric whipping the air.America has been shattered by nuclear war, great buildings crumbled into ash, the horrific beasts that roam the land. A cautionary tale on dying for your cause, the echoes it leaves on the world, the effect it has on others long after your time has passed. Witness the life and times to be found in the wastes of the modern world, the loves that could have been, the paths broken and lost. Die another day in a thousand ways.
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