Embers blow steadily from the rubble of a forgotten city, affluently carried by the prevailing winds. Grand monuments that once towered beyond the pitiful skyscrapers of Earth now carry little significance when surrounded by devastation so terribly hopeless and infinite, yet undeniably magnificent. Even the sun, which used to illuminate the landscape, hides in disgust and shame, opting for another planet to orbit instead. Nothing grows, and probably never will again. It is a planet without purpose, without faith, without a reason to carry on existing.

        A lone figure stalks the streets, pulling his collar up to the wind, shielding his face from the ashes. Debris rests on ruins; stretching to the sky, creating new towers, only these buildings are formed of waste, rather than architectural structures. Dylan Hutchings. Maybe that was once his name. Back when everything was relatively normal and mankind hadn’t developed the need to push boundaries to breaking point. Maybe he once lived with a girlfriend and Teddy the dog in a comfortable two bedroom, semi-detached house with a white picket fence and garden swing, the whole cliché. That was probably before he agreed to be shipped off to New Earth, a distant planet where everything was improved, upgraded and close to perfect. Maybe none of this is true and Dylan Hutchings is actually sitting on his garden swing, watching the stars and dreaming of far off lands. It’s all a question of maybe. Regardless, nothing matters anymore and names are no longer important in this scarcely populated world. The chances of running into another Dylan are desperately slim.

        There must be an end.

        Surely this can’t be it.

        Am I expected to just aimlessly walk forever?

        Till I die?

        He ponders the fact that eventually it all needs to end, so the remaining stragglers can be allowed to unwrap the one gift that has been denied of them, that of death and eternal sleep. Inside, his soul is fractured, tormented by all the burning questions that will never get answered, no matter how long his search lasts. Everything about this man matches his surroundings, from his grey, ashen overcoat to his dark, sunken eyes that reflect the desolation encompassing him. He seamlessly blends into the background, sinking deeper with each step he takes until he will ultimately crumble away with the wreckage and become just another forgotten piece of New Earth. He walks with a purpose, but if you asked him what this purpose is, he wouldn’t be able to tell you the answer. He just knows there is somewhere he is meant to be, someone he is meant to see.

        Maybe if I find just one other person.

        I can figure out what happened to me, to this world.

        Places don’t just deteriorate into nothing.

        Do they?

        Images flash through his mind. Two opposing sides battling in a crowded street, some dressed in sharp, expensive suits, others in tattered rags. Then, a family freezing on the street, their stomachs screaming for salvation as they huddle against the cold winds. His vision ends with a bright golden light incinerating everything in sight, swallowing the world to the beat of a million screams. Maybe one of these disasters led to the death of New Earth; maybe it was a collaborative effort. He isn’t sure; his memory has escaped him and travelled back to his previous cliché ridden existence, took the coward’s way out and decided not to suffer any longer.

        The only thing he does know is the heart dies a slow, torturous death, until nothing remains.