"October 14th, 2138, the day I've waited my entire life for." Rueben said, his voice croaking and deep, like its not been used in years. He gently scratches his beard to irradicate the forming itch, the greyish brown hairs fold under his hand. The skin pale, and coarse from a lack of sunlight throughout most of his life. As he steps onto the lift platform of his underground bunker, the rusted hinges screech to life when he presses the lift button.

As he reaches the top, the hatches slowly open, allowing small amounts of sand to fall into Rueben's home. He reaches the top, the sunlight heavy, hot and most importantly, freeing on his skin. His long, grey hair falls over his face, yet the sunlight still breaches the mask it creates. Its blinding, yet eye opening at the same time. He moves his handover his face to cover him as he takes in his surroundings. The vast desert wasteland of a world- a life long left behind. All that's left is Rueben, and the big yellow ball that watches him from the sky. It's been years since he faced it, the thing we once praised as a beacon of light, the same "beacon of light" that destroyed everything he once knew, everyone he once loved.