I sat in my loft looking through the large gaping hole that once was my wall.

We had lived at 13 Rhodester Street, Tolsim, in the grand capital of The Bachk Republic. My family had owned this building for over five generations. Once the grandest apartment dwelling in this sector of the city, now a dilapidated drug addict ridden, lowlife habitation.

What took my family almost four hundred years to build. The war had destroyed in less than five hours. No one really knows what happened to escalate the conflict. The last day no one can forget.

It was as though the sun itself had fallen from the sky. The death toll’s were in the millions. A person caught in the blast radius was the lucky one. The intensity of the heat was such that you were instantly vaporized. The blast wave that followed destroyed buildings in a hundred mile radius, hundreds of thousands of people were buried alive. The radiation was the slow killer, it crept for thousands of miles, everything slowly died.

Man had regressed to baser beings, more primordial in his thoughts and reactions. A chance encounter with another human could and would result in a life or death battle. People formed packs to survive. Often raiding and killing other rival packs.

Human life was worthless.

I sit here in my loft, my doors barred closed. I stare out the hole.