Too long I've lived, too much I've seen. This planet, our host, once so wild and unknown; we've mapped it, paved it, arranged it on a grid, never imagining that something else was watching us, a creature even more ruthless and predacious than we are, eager to exploit the very infrastructure we so obligingly arranged. Is the war already lost? Are we destined to be cattle for monsters? Or, now that the enemy has finally shown his face, do we have a fighting chance? The world today is not what it was one week ago. What will it be one week from now? One month from now? Nothing is written that cannot be changed. It is a small world, after all. We made it that way.
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