A lone man stood high above the wasteland world, his grip tightening around the talisman at his neck - a bone of some long extinct creature. Many years ago there were a people. They did many glorious and beautiful things but the scale and repercussions of which they were ignorant. For the people only heard and witnessed what they wanted to.

　　Within those people were some who spoke for those who could not speak for themselves. Those who fought the battles of those who could not defend themselves.The author`s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

　　And when the people stood atop their mighty accomplishments and gazed out at the world they had created they were overwhelmed by the silence. Those who spoke and fought for those who could not had vanished.

　　For like that which once was, was no more and never to return.

　　Only then did the people realise that those who once spoke had spoken the only words ever worth listening to.As he lamented the choices of his people a small tear rolled down a weathered face. For he was the last one left and those that could hear would not listen and those who could not speak no longer existed.