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<p style=”text-align: left;”>Surveying the world from below his dark hood, Kenem sat, watching the people of the city.</p>
What strange creatures humans were, always hoping against hope, always believing there was a way, even when they had solid proof there wasn’t.

The end was coming nearer, you could tell, just by looking at the state of the people.

Pale, thin faces with large eyes stared up at him, children clutching their empty stomachs, adults holding onto the crumbling buildings for support. Teens hiding in alleys, struggling to survive on their own.

Kenem stood, he had one job. And he would do it, to the fullest extent of his abilities.

He traced the deep scar on his arm, <i>this was to help, right?</i>

He dropped to his knees in the middle of the empty square, and wrote the words:

<i>The end is near, the rebels will strike, every wasted moment leads to another death. The end is coming.</i>