There's a certain languidness to riding in a loud vehicle over a perfectly flat surface, having nothing but a mind with which to grind memories. The light from those dirty windows looked like the surface of the sun; it sure felt like it. It feels empty, like we're driving through an unreal nothing until we finally careen off the edge of the world and into the world of reality; except, it's here where the monsters dwell.

Concepts are fluid here. Patriotism decides from which direction the bullet come, not what you believe. War is not an act, or a state; it is dogma. The good guys are those who live long enough to pass on their stories, spicing them up along their travels. My friend etches elaborate, intricate and beautiful vines into the ceiling of our cramped vehicle--he was a talented artisan. Except now all he's just another soldier. Our gunner used to give lectures on neurobiology to doctors from around the planet--now he points guns at people and holds down the trigger until they're dead. Our driver plays the Cello beautifully. Just a soldier. I used to take things no one wanted and make them work again. Soldier. Soldier. Soldier.

We were all something until reality decided it needed monsters of its own.

There's an insufferable heat on this planet, and I can't help but think someone or something is trying to burn away all the impurities on this horrible rock, and, once again, I can't help but think I'd do the exact same thing. Everything that has happened here is already being covered by dust and ash, but it will never disappear as long as someone remembers things before the ash. It's hard to find anyone who remembers the days before the Christmas of Ash. We're just here to watch the world burn.

This is a record. These are the things that happened to 12 people who were left behind for nothing, with nothing, to be come nothing. Whether or not we leave a footprint in the cracked mud or in the layers of dust, we will leave a record of 12 who were forgotten by people who never knew them, and sentenced to oblivion for sacrificing everything.