The deafening roar of planes plummeting from the sky echoed through the streets, shattering the peaceful night. The ground shook violently as they crashed, obliterating everything and everyone in their path. It was a scene of utter devastation, a nightmare come to life.

Millions of lives were suddenly snuffed out, leaving behind a trail of destruction and despair. The once bustling city now lay in ruins, its streets littered with twisted metal and charred remains. And as the dust settled, the survivors were left to grapple with the harsh reality that their world had changed forever.

Transportation had come to a screeching halt. Cars sat lifeless on the roads, their engines fried by the electromagnetic pulse. The few that were still running had caused chaos and carnage, colliding into each other and anything in their way. The highways and interstates were now graveyards of twisted metal and shattered glass, a haunting reminder of the chaos that had ensued.

Even the trains, once a reliable mode of transportation, had fallen victim to the destructive force of the EMP. Some had toppled over and slid off their tracks, while others had exploded into fiery wrecks. The ones that remained were useless, their power source cut off and their tracks overgrown with nature's reclamation.

And as if that wasn't enough, communication had completely broken down. Phones were useless, their circuits fried by the EMP. Cellphone towers stood silent, their once powerful signals reduced to static. The world was now a silent, disconnected place.

In the midst of this chaos, President Glama declared Marshall Law and began rounding up residents to take them to PUMA camps. Those who resisted were met with deadly force, their homes no longer a safe haven. But for some, the thought of leaving their comfortable homes was unbearable, even in the face of such desolation and despair.

One young man, known only as Clay, refused to be taken to the camps. He had learned the hard way that survival without technology was grueling and unforgiving. But he was determined to persevere, to find a way to thrive in this new world.

Years passed, and as nature slowly reclaimed the city, Clay adapted and survived. His once neat and orderly world now overrun with moss and vines, but he found comfort in the chaos. He became a skilled hunter and gatherer, relying on his instincts and wits to survive.

But beneath his tough exterior, Clay still longed for the world he once knew. He had lost loved ones in the chaos, and the memories of their final moments haunted him. Yet, he refused to give up, determined to find a way to thrive in this new world, no matter how dark and unforgiving it may be.

In the year of 2016, everything had changed. The world was in chaos, and President Glama's death had only added fuel to the fire. The Russian leader, fueled by greed and power, had taken his life, leaving Babylon in ruins. But in the midst of all this destruction and despair, one young man had emerged as a symbol of hope and resilience.

Cord, once a naive and carefree boy, had grown into a strong and determined man. His eyes, once filled with innocence, now held a steely determination. He had faced unimaginable challenges and had come out stronger, with a deep scar etched in his heart.

But despite all the pain and loss, Cord had found solace in a woman's arms, and together they had brought three beautiful children into this broken world. They were his reason for living, his source of strength and hope.

And yet, on that day, as he watched the Novembers of the President's still reigning army returning to his land, Cord's heart was gripped by fear. He knew he had to find his family, to protect them from the impending danger. But he also knew that he had to face his past, a past that he had been trying to escape for so long.

As he sat in the smoke area at GuideStar, Cord's mind was filled with thoughts of his younger brother, Clay. He wondered if he was still alive, or if he had been lost in the flames that had engulfed Babylon. The mere thought of facing him made Cord's heart ache with guilt and regret.

"Cord, you okay?" Cullen's voice broke into his thoughts, and he looked up to see his friend joining him in the smoke area.

"Yeah, just thinking about my little brother," Cord replied, his voice heavy with emotion.

"But Triton is here with us," Cullen said, trying to comfort him.

"No, I'm talking about Clay. He's only twenty-one, and the darkness fell before he could even experience life," Cord said, a hint of bitterness seeping into his voice.

"Then why don't we open the shield and find him?" Cullen suggested, taking a sip from his old mason jar.

Cord's heart skipped a beat at the mere thought of seeing his brother again. But before he could reply, Aronik appeared out of nowhere and sat down next to Cullen.

"Why would you think that we want to talk to you?" Cord asked Aronik, his voice laced with disgust.

"True," Aronik said, momentarily taken aback by Cord's hostility. But then a realization dawned on him, and he understood why Cord was so angry with him.

As the three of them sat there in silence, their minds filled with conflicting emotions, the world around them seemed to fade away. For a brief moment, they were just three lost souls, brought together by fate and bound by their shared experiences. And in that moment, their bond grew stronger, unbreakable, and forged in the fires of adversity.

Just shy of four years ago when they all left Aronik standing with his back turned towards them. The sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow over the abandoned building. As he watched them depart, he felt a pang of jealousy and resentment. It wasn't over yet, he thought, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

Vengeance, hot and fierce, burned inside him as he watched Cabe be happy with his wife and have another child. He had everything that Aronik wanted and could never have. But it wasn't just vengeance that consumed him, it was also jealousy. Latem could no longer talk, his love's body rotting on the ramp outside the shield, with the dead Novembers. And his children, his own flesh and blood, barely wanted anything to do with him. Each passing day only fueled his madness, his anger towards Cabe growing stronger.

At dinner one night, he couldn't take it anymore. As they all sat around the table, laughing and enjoying their meal, Aronik stood up suddenly and pulled out a gun, pointing it at Cabe. Sitting in the seat next to him, Cabe had taken Aronik's usual spot, now occupied by his new baby's bassinet. Tracia had placed it there so she could watch over and feed their child as needed.

"Really, Aronik? You're going to shoot me in front of my family at dinner?" Cabe's words were calm, but his eyes betrayed his fear.

Aronik's grip on the gun tightened as he pressed it against Cabe's head. "I should have done this a year ago when you shot me, you bastard." His voice was low and filled with rage.

But before he could pull the trigger, Cord's voice cut through the tension. "Aronik, stand down." The gun went off, and blood splattered on Tracia's face as Cabe's body fell into her lap. She screamed in horror and grief, holding onto her husband's lifeless body.

As the days passed, Tracia's pain only grew. She spent most of her time lost in her own mind, unable to escape the searing pain of losing her husband. Even the nights spent with her children, trying to find comfort in their warmth, were not enough. Eventually, she couldn't take it anymore. She left her children in the care of Circe, her friend, and asked her to take good care of them.

"Please, take good care of them." Her voice was broken as she walked away from Circe, disappearing around a corner.

Tracia climbed to the highest point of GuideStar, the roof. She stood on the edge, the wind whipping her hair around her face. In that moment, she felt like there was nothing left to live for. As she gazed out at the darkening sky, she could almost feel the monsters with their decrepit hands reaching up from the roof, whispering to her to jump. The voices grew louder, urging her to end the pain. But then she thought of her children, and she stepped back, away from the edge. She couldn't leave them alone, they needed her. And she needed them. She took a deep breath and turned to leave, determined to find a way to live with the pain.

Circe's heart raced as she watched Tracia's silhouette disappear around the corner. Fear crept up her spine as she realized her friend was in danger. Tracia was climbing to the highest point of the roof of GuideStar, and Circe knew she needed to stop her. But as she ran towards the building, the voices in her head grew louder.

"Jump," they whispered, their decrepit hands reaching out to her. "It's the only way to end this suffering."

Circe's belief in her friend's strength wavered as she saw her standing on the edge, seemingly contemplating her next move. Her mind raced with thoughts of all the things that could go wrong if Tracia jumped. But a small part of her couldn't help but wonder if it would all be easier if she just let go.

As she reached the roof, Circe's internal battle reached its peak. She knew she had to go against her morals and convince Tracia not to jump, even though a small part of her wanted to give in to the voices and let her friend end her pain.

But as she looked into Tracia's tear-filled eyes, Circe knew she couldn't let her make this choice. She begged and pleaded with her, doing everything in her power to make her see that life was worth living. But as she saw the struggle in Tracia's eyes, Circe couldn't help but feel like she was failing.

In the end, it was Tracia's own strength that stopped her from jumping. But Circe couldn't shake off the guilt of almost letting her friend make such a terrible choice. She knew she would have regretted it for the rest of her life if she hadn't intervened.

As they left the roof, Circe couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and regret. She was relieved that her friend was safe, but she couldn't help but wonder if she had made the right choice. Would things have been easier if she had just let Tracia jump? The thought haunted her, but she knew deep down that she couldn't have lived with the consequences of that decision.