It was a peaceful day. The birds were singing happily in the trees, the wild horses grazed happily in the fields. In the piercing blue sky, kites could be seen flying against the morning sun. It seemed just like any other day on the Great Plains. But as the sun rose to its zenith, on that 21st of June, a newborn's cry was heard. And nothing would be the same. For that day marked the beginning of the end.

18 years later

"To my fellow graduates: we have lived through a lot together. There were fights with friends, harsh break ups. Tough teachers and too much stress. We survived many disasters, the earthquake our freshman year, the sinkhole in the girl's locker room just this April. And the worst one, all the homework we had to deal with."

4 years later

"Through it all, we have mastered our studies and made strong bonds of friendship that will outlast our memory of the pranks played on each other I know that each of us will become leaders in our field. We, together and united, we are the next generation. And we will make this world our own."

10 years later

Peace was a word used only when describing the distant past. Every species of bird had long since gone extinct. Horses were used solely for manual labour. No kites flew in the polluted, yellow sky. The plains were marked by craters and cracks. There was no doubt in anyone's mind that this was the end.