The wind whipped his dark hair around, sometimes slapping him in the face with little flicks. The hill offered no shelter from the air. Even at a distance, he stood out on the plain slope in the armoured body suit that supported him in this God-forsaken place. He scanned the valley below, not believing that it was once home to thousands of his ancestors. The clean air was a small compensation for the miserable darkness that cloaked the land.

Deciding he had taken enough risks, he squatted down inside a dip in the hillside. He heard strange calls in the waning light, eerie whispers that reached through the shadows of his memory.