It had been a week since Onyx began his journey across the ash-covered wasteland. Food and hope were running low, and the smoking ruin ahead gave little evidence of either. Was he the only one left? Had everyone managed to evacuate the planet? Onyx pushed aside these questions, his will to survive and fear of the beckoning shadows pressing him forward. He glared at Nylie, his broken Artificial Intelligence, as she asked again if he would like to listen to some music, as if it would solve all the problems in the world. He doubted if it was even possible to solve them. After everything that had happened, after what he'd done... not even the Gods seemed willing to save their world. Yet one question lingered in Onyx's mind: Would he ever get to see his wife and daughter again?