And so it begins...
A distant cry across a dead and deserted landscape of twisted rust and dust.
A human voice the like of which has not been heard here in longer than.... Well longer than all but the oldest and most inhuman can recall.
On this night, when the rain, like steal cold shafts of pain unknown, cuts through all flesh exposed to it.
In this place where a dream died 600 years ago. Where under flowing water and crashing of steal and concrete millions breathed their last in tortured agony. A place whos name is now the byword for a loss of hope and the destruction of dreams, and yet...
.. and yet...
On this night
in this placeSomething is reborn in the sound of a childs cry.
Salvation?
Only if one person believes......