The writings of one man, Oliver, chronicling the adventures of eight, in a world bereft of all that once was. Many days of darkness, in the respect of light and mood, have cloaked our hearts. And yet there is a hope, wholly set apart, above and outside, which beckons us onward each new morn. It is for you, Futurians, that I write. It is, after all, your present time which is molded or deformed by the actions we now take. And what, pray, will guide such actions? Will it be chaos or truth? Can we boldly move? Press on, oh future, until such time as an end comes.