On the verge of an apocolyptic world the skies are filled with sickening clouds of blood. The last remaining cities on Earth sit upon the edge of a vast wasteland which threatens to swallow them up. There are those who still have hope, but there are also those who still cling to the ways of the past. In the end none of it will matter, but the matter still remains: Are the people of Earth fit to live?

In the words of a great man:
“Our home is but the namesake of a wonderfully grand place crafted by a genious architect. We live a life of obscurity in an upside down world where the roots shadow the leaves, a memetic legacy we are reminded of each day as we struggle to grow freely; in this economy, which is like a sweltering heat wave, we run dry of emotion, we run dry of the very lifeblood which sustains this place, and the people run, dry and parched, untill the once kind and caring become crusted and callused. Our world is coming to an end, lost within the sands of time. The bitter wind of a red sky we once knew nothing of now whips our faces at the sign of the slightest movement – but it is not to late – it is never too late. For old father time, with his limitless wisdom, undermines his own hellish ambitions; where there is an infinity of obliteration waiting, so too is there an infite amount of chances.”

Now it is up to you to decide.
Who will live and who will die?

Blood - It looks good on you.

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