August 17, 2025..

The final hours of the Macro-war... Coexisting as a ordinary human civilian living in the northern outskirts of Dresden within the controlled territory of the Human Liberation Confederacy, you were alone inside your own home. Muffled gunshots and distant explosions echoed from miles away outside—most likely occurring at the main city itself. The sky outside was gray with the atmosphere smogged in ashes and smoke caused by the ongoing battle. But that didn't bother you anymore as you've been living through it for months, did it?

Inside, there you were: resting in the living room while seated on a leather couch, watching a popular cartoon show on the television of your own favorite. The audio and quality was however.. Rough and glitchy.

An hour gone by, you were still there. But you noticed something off, something odd.. The noises outside have gotten quiet, calmed down for a while, almost as if the battle was finally over. You shrugged it off and resumed watching the show. Until then suddenly; the screen immediately switches disrupting your program. A blue background displays with a white clock moving.

*Unknown ambient synthwave music plays*

The screen then cuts to the news channel. An man in his 30s holding script papers while looking towards the camera was displayed. He soon begins to speak in his serious tone:

"Ladies and gentlemen.. Citizens of the Human Liberation Confederacy. A state of emergency has been declared. I have been ordered to address you the surrender of our allegiance."

A brief moment paused, sending silence through the room. Hearing the first words of his sentences, you were immediately hit with the thought of shock and fear already.. The worst of the worst has became true.

"Today, around 11 o' clock on this very Thursday, armed forces of the HLC have unconditionally surrendered. Due to the lack of our ammunition supplies and manufacturing, we were unable to continue the efforts of fighting this war. That said, the last stronghold in Berlin, our capital, was outaken and stormed by macro forces.. The council of the HLC, were all killed in an unknown assassination occurrence. With our leaders dead and capital taken, I have to say again we surrendered."

"The war is lost.."

*Another pause fills in*

"I am sorry it had to come to this. Whatever you do.. Remember everything they say is all lies. Soon enough, macros from the Federation will be at all urban area searching from building to building in getting every body of us. I advise you seek shelter far out, stay hidden at all costs without being seen. Don't bother staying near those towering monsters and instead rather stay as far from them as possible. We had done all we can to save ourselves united.. As soon as the broadcast ends, there will be no more television.. They are right near us, as I am risking my life to inform those watching right now."

The reporter takes a deep breath, his hands trembling as he grips the script papers. His voice softens, filled with sorrow, yet firm with a final sense of duty.

"This may be the last time you hear a voice from our side, from our people. To those still out there, to those still breathing.. Know that you are not alone. No matter what happens, no matter how dark the days ahead may seem, we were here. We fought. We lived. We mattered. And if there is even a sliver of hope left in this broken world, hold onto it. Hold onto it with everything you have."

His eyes shift downward, and for a brief moment, silence lingers. Then, with a heavy exhale, he looks directly into the camera, his final words carrying the weight of an entire fallen nation.

"Good luck, humanity… May we one day rise again."

As the static crackles, the screen suddenly fades into a grainy film reel. Soft flickers dance across the screen as an old yet beautifully preserved video begins to play. The first images show vast landscapes—endless green forests swaying in the wind, towering mountains kissed by the golden sunrise, and deep blue oceans stretching beyond the horizon. The Earth, untouched, pure, alive.

Then, the scenes change—humans, together, smiling, laughing. Families gathered around dinner tables, children playing in sunlit fields, lovers embracing under the warmth of a setting sun. Cities once thriving, streets once bustling with life. The world as it was, the world that once belonged to humanity.

As these images unfold, *Nearer, My God, to Thee* begins to play first as a soft instrumental, then joined by a solemn, harmonious choir.

"Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee;
E'en though it be a cross
That raiseth me,
Still all my song shall be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Though, like a wanderer,
The sun gone down,
Darkness comes over me,
My rest a stone;
Yet in my dreams I'd be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee."

The voices echo with a haunting yet beautiful sorrow, a hymn of farewell, of loss, of remembrance.

"There let me see the sight,
An open heaven;
All that Thou sendest me,
In mercy given;
Angels to beckon me
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee.
Then, with my waking thoughts
Bright with Thy praise,
Out of my stony griefs
Bethel I'll raise,
So by my woes to be
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer, my God, to Thee,
Nearer to Thee."

As the song reaches its climax, the footage starts to distor—flickering, shaking. The colors blur, the images stretch and shatter into static. The last thing to be seen was an illusion of Earth rotating, representing all life and form, "our" home. The final notes ring out, lingering in the emptiness—then silence.

The screen cuts to black.

Thump, the ground quaked, you were no longer alone..