My grandpa told me that the war was hell. After seeing the mess it left behind, I believed him. It was hard to ignore the buildings being blown to the ground, blood covered walls, and corpses littering the street when the war started. After a while, it all a regular occurrence. Soon we had to live in a bunker to protect ourselves from the others. They didn't take long to find us though. I barely got away but lost my right arm and the people closest to me. I was six years old. Every group I joined after that ended up dead by the end of the first week I had joined them. It didn't take me long to learn I couldn't hold anyone close to me and that I had to continue my days in the war alone. It's been twenty years and I still stand by my choice. The war still continues. It's us against the creations. The androids that were made to protect us have rebelled against us. All the humans have been eliminated. All but one.