Everything that has a beginning, has an end.
The year is 402 A.B., anno bellum, the year of the war. The day the Great War began was the day the old world passed into history. They called it the war to end all wars, but it was the beginning of the end. There were so many versions of how it began, who was to blame, who was righteous and who was not; so many conflicting accounts and so much finger pointing that no one knew the truth of it anymore. No one cared. After the first strike and inevitable retaliations, what difference did it make who launched the first missile or which country dropped the first bomb or who was right and who was wrong? Mankind had set the world ablaze. Billions died in seconds. Governments fell in hours. Countries disappeared overnight. Civilization crumbled. After causing the extinction of so many other species, Homo sapiens, the wise man, nearly caused his own. Some said it was a miracle any survived. Others said survival was man's Purgatory; that he hadn't suffered enough for his sins, that he deserved the fate of fighting to his bitter end. This is the story of that end. This is the story of Fin.
