We were not always believers. In the old days, the privileged thrived because of the millions who toiled in bowels of our planet. At least, this is how the story goes. All her children know now are the towering ziggurats of the metropolis and the endless wealth of her resources. Our children pale in the shadows of skyscrapers and whither as man’s machines grow strong enough to carry them. Our planet nurtures, but has she forgiven history and its blights? Time’s agents whisper of dark days, but the gears have turned for eons and silenced the voices of dissent. Perfection is status quo and excess drives its people. Who are we to speak blasphemy within Elysium?
We are those who would salvage truth from the wreckage left by generations of contentment. We are the ones who would rend utopia asunder. We bear the burden of the ages. We have seen progress rear its vile head and reveal its ruse.
The wheels are ever in motion, bringing forth the terrible change long due the titans of the planet. The deciding hand must be dealt and those damned in life must answer for their crimes.