It seems like forever since the bombs fell. Only now has the radiation diminished to somewhat less dangerous levels, and we can finally leave the bunkers and look for what little’s left. We have spent our days preparing for this — gathering intel, practicing at the target range, learning survival skills — all for this journey, searching for the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.
As we leave this place, wasteland’s all around us, far as the eye can see. Alas, perhaps this planet is no longer suited for us humans. Luckily, the radio indicates not all was lost — there’s an old launch pad nearby, with potentially functioning spaceships. This might be our ticket out of this desolate land.
On our way to the site, the rumors of less fortunate folk prove true. Spending so many years in a bunker pales in comparison to what they seem to have endured, losing their minds and bodies to the slow process of radiation. These are the survivors, while surely there were those who did not endure. While some raiders are merciless, and other mutants show some functional adaptations, we’re still able to surpass these hurdles. We cannot be reckless, but can’t dawdle either — surely there are others who also set their sights on these ships to leave this place behind.
Weary from our travels and the trials along the way, we reach our destination. It is now in fate’s hands: let us hope this spaceship works, our training is enough to pilot it to another planet, and that a better life awaits us on the other side of this trip. Godspeed.
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