It was depressing, looking out upon the wasteland before me. I had read books and seen movies depicting the future. Flying cars, time machines, tridimensional-whatchamacallits. But that was a fantasy. This was reality. An eternally burning, radioactive minefield of rock, hot, twisted metal, and more rock. Not a true living thing for thousands of miles. The humans had destroyed themselves. I sat at the remains of a once tall building. I was on the edge of a maze of broken skyscrapers, lifted concrete, crashed planes, bombshells, and bones. That was where We lived. That is, if you could call it living. We were only half alive. We were simply, We. that is what we called ourselves.