The Unlucky Land of the Pre-Post-Nuclear Postman's Post
Welcome to the POSTMAN’S WORLD.
It’s dark, it’s grimy, it’s gruesome. You’ll see real death. People will die – then, probably, die again. Look at the innocents – warped into pus-dripping abominations. Look at your leaders – mysterious rogues, only giving out the bare minimum of information required.
Look at the machines – perfectly designed pieces of robotics, moving like a well-oiled machine. Look at the desired blood from their silent voices!
Look at the dead – raised up to serve the masters of science, moving like a well-oiled machine. Look at the vitreous humour running down their cheek!
Look at the land – blasted into submission, a plain landscape of sand and emptiness. The radioactive Postworkers are exiled and marked, forever changed.
Look at the military – blasted into submission, a lineless mob of unordered power struggles. Officers stand proud, while technicians and footmen are treated as unpaid slaves, unable to escape their fate – only moved from one station to another.
Look at the surface of the world.
Try looking deeper.