Welcome to the future. No it ain’t a burnt out wasteland, no the cities don’t spread for ever. No we never made it to the stars. Some say it was an apocalypse. In some places they call it “The Collapse”. Whatever the fuck it was, things weren’t the same after that’s for damn sure. I may be old, and I may have seen a lot but all this, it happened long before I was born. Before my Pa even. Maybe his Pa knew the world that was, but only as a baby.
Same ball spinning in space. The same sun. The same moon. But this is not the World that was. This is a new place. A place of small outposts trying to just make it work. To stay human in the light of those that have forgotten what it means. To remember what the tech can do, so maybe. Just maybe. We can rebuild the World that is.
It ain’t so bad. Sure there are parts of the forest that never stop growing and there was that year when I was 20 or so when the storms raged without stop.
But we’ve got Towns. Good places with folk just farming and crafting. Making lives and families, building the World that is.
Well, when those Militia bastards don’t burn us out. Militia? Ha! Makes them sound respectable and the like don’t it? They ain’t. Bands of thugs stealing from those that work hard.
The Savages (well some call 'em tribal but that just seems pussy footed to me), they trade some but keep to themselves. I heard a Wanderer talk about a Tribe to the South that’s turned cannibal. See? Savage.
The Couriers keep the word moving, 'specially as more of the tech keeps dying.
We hear word of the great Arcs way to the West, giant domes of the World that was. But I ain’t never seen it, reckon it’s just myth and legend.
You wanna see it, maybe you should become a Wanderer yourself. No roots, just going from place to place, trying not to get yourself killed.
But like I say, I’m just old. And this World that is, well it’s got plenty of space for anything.