From the diary of Dexter Wyatt:
My name is Dexter Wyatt. I am a 29- year-old human male, and in case this should be my last day on this godforsaken planet called Earth, in this blasted land of chaos that used to be called the United States of America, I leave this statement behind in the hopes that one day, future generations may discover it and know the horror of our age.
I am a soldier, trained in the art of killing by the St. Louis Militia, and all I have ever known is battle and bloodshed. Of course, there is no more St. Louis Militia now, no more St. Louis at all really. The Mutants came in the night, each with the power of ten men, lightning crackling from their fingers or flames erupting from their outstretched hands. They needed no guns to kill: some could pull a man apart with their bare hands, some could appear right next to you and gut you with a knife, and some could kill you simply with the power of their minds. There are only four of us left now, hiding out in an abandoned building just outside of town: Blake Ashton (a demolitions expert), Sarah Green (a cyborg computer genius), Rocco Morroni (a scrappy brawler), and myself.
When I was a boy, my granddad used to tell me the story about how the world was, back before the Bellati came. He was just a boy then, the year of the Great Alien Plague. It wasn’t like in the Science Fiction films, he said, where the aliens come to wipe out the human race. The Bellati arrived on earth as refugees in need of a new home world after their star system was destroyed by a supernova. One of their multigenerational colony ships found earth; it still orbits the planet, out of fuel and beyond repair.
For a short while there was peace, but the Bellati unknowingly carried a viral strain from their home world that our human immune systems couldn’t handle. Very few humans were immune, and three quarters of Earth’s population was wiped out in a matter of months. The rest of the damage we did ourselves. Nuclear silos, weapon storage facilities, and military bases were left completely abandoned, and in the aftermath of the plague, thugs and terrorists worldwide became powerful warlords who, in their desperate grabs for power, managed to use these weapons of mass destruction to exterminate nearly the entire remainder of the human race and decimate most of the world’s major cities. Less than 1% of earth’s population remained, and of those humans who survived the plague, some had been mutated by it, gaining superhuman abilities but in many cases becoming deformed, twisted, and evil.
The thousands of Bellati that had arrived in search of a new home were now stranded on a planet which they had inadvertently destroyed. Guilt ridden about the havoc they had accidentally wrought, the Bellati shared their technology and many adopted the role of caretakers to humanity in an attempt to rebuild their civilization.
So what is left for us now, those brave few adventurers who still roam this scorched abyss of a world? To survive.
My name is Dexter Wyatt. I am a 29- year-old human male, and in case this should be my last day on this godforsaken planet called Earth, in this blasted land of chaos that used to be called the United States of America, I leave this statement behind in the hopes that one day, future generations may discover it and know the horror of our age.
I am a soldier, trained in the art of killing by the St. Louis Militia, and all I have ever known is battle and bloodshed. Of course, there is no more St. Louis Militia now, no more St. Louis at all really. The Mutants came in the night, each with the power of ten men, lightning crackling from their fingers or flames erupting from their outstretched hands. They needed no guns to kill: some could pull a man apart with their bare hands, some could appear right next to you and gut you with a knife, and some could kill you simply with the power of their minds. There are only four of us left now, hiding out in an abandoned building just outside of town: Blake Ashton (a demolitions expert), Sarah Green (a cyborg computer genius), Rocco Morroni (a scrappy brawler), and myself.
When I was a boy, my granddad used to tell me the story about how the world was, back before the Bellati came. He was just a boy then, the year of the Great Alien Plague. It wasn’t like in the Science Fiction films, he said, where the aliens come to wipe out the human race. The Bellati arrived on earth as refugees in need of a new home world after their star system was destroyed by a supernova. One of their multigenerational colony ships found earth; it still orbits the planet, out of fuel and beyond repair.
For a short while there was peace, but the Bellati unknowingly carried a viral strain from their home world that our human immune systems couldn’t handle. Very few humans were immune, and three quarters of Earth’s population was wiped out in a matter of months. The rest of the damage we did ourselves. Nuclear silos, weapon storage facilities, and military bases were left completely abandoned, and in the aftermath of the plague, thugs and terrorists worldwide became powerful warlords who, in their desperate grabs for power, managed to use these weapons of mass destruction to exterminate nearly the entire remainder of the human race and decimate most of the world’s major cities. Less than 1% of earth’s population remained, and of those humans who survived the plague, some had been mutated by it, gaining superhuman abilities but in many cases becoming deformed, twisted, and evil.
The thousands of Bellati that had arrived in search of a new home were now stranded on a planet which they had inadvertently destroyed. Guilt ridden about the havoc they had accidentally wrought, the Bellati shared their technology and many adopted the role of caretakers to humanity in an attempt to rebuild their civilization.
So what is left for us now, those brave few adventurers who still roam this scorched abyss of a world? To survive.