An armored SUV roared past the cleared section of a road pointed to the south-western outskirts of Grefort City.
Patches of green grass broke through the earth, beginning a new cycle of life in this apocalyptic world. Insects hopped around the foliage, some stalking their pray and others dumbly chomping down on their food.
Up in the air, birds glided freely along the wind. Their low screeches echoed underneath, as if signaling their dominance on their own territory.
Through the transparent tempered glass window, Hans observed the trivialities of life and brutality of nature.
The animals have returned, he thought while watching a drama unfolding in front of him. Oh?
A cicada clung to a blade of grass, its body vibrating faintly as it fed. A mantis crawled up behind it, slow and careful, forelegs raised like it was already celebrating.
Hans watched, intrigued at how even insects understood timing.
Then a shadow dipped. A bird swept down, beak snapping to catch its prey.
