Falling towards a blinding inferno, the vast belmoth of society reflects the glint of the last dying evening of the past. A single soul gazes up at the revolving horizon, watching. Waiting. Knowing there is something more beyond the dead sky. Knowking that even in the face of the swiftly encroaching chaos, there is a filament of determination reflected in the sky. A bright streak of hope in the dire world of the present.