We've arrived at the end of another Earth cycle.

It's the same as it has always been - barren, bland, brown. The surface remains as dusty as the deserts that once dotted the Earth in patches. Now, the entirety of the planet are valleys of sand and stone that extend to the deepest of once-oceans, and great craggy cliffs that soar to the tallest of once-mountains. Occasionally, a skull can be found.

 In inceptum finnis est. That's how the saying went, didn't it? "In the beginning is the end"?

We should have know by 2019 that the destruction of life was imminent, that politics would dominant the world and resources would run out and wars would pop up every way you turned - it was a collision course, all of it. As soon as one company developed the Vampire bomb, the world ended. 

Those in orbit are the last survivors of the human race. The ones who took a step back and could see from the outside in. The ones who were wise enough to see the world, but humble enough to keep from preaching. The ones who slept in ice chambers all around me. 

They may never wake to see the world.

Not like I have.