About the Work
Lepro is a surface scavenger. He gets badly injured and is left to die in the heat of a scorched future where a malignant sun has driven humanity underground. He is found by entities that look angelic. Perfect bodies. No suffering. No end to their existence. They take him underground and offer him the same. He sees what it actually is.
Story
Reddened skies hail forth; the clouds have all been blown away. In exodus, they have all taken their forms and left their barren homelands. Light, unlimited, they were inflated folk; they lived as projections rather than material. They have gone and left nothing in their place, a voiding cardinal canvas encompassing all. Figuring themselves to be worthless, to have, in their perversion, been deemed without value, they migrated away from the heavens. Such was the weight of the crimes that man had committed; he, in his transgressions, was left without a sky to conquer.
Few roamed the desolate lands; in the flames that had wrought the end of time, few had survived. But, akin to the roach, man lived on. Even in his segmented and rotting limbs, he retained animation. Small colonies, scattered across the marred globe, dared to rise above the rubble. Primitive tribes, they were forbidden the wings that their predecessors had ripped from the angels, and in such, were mortal and quick to perish. Folly, in the sense of miserable continuance, was their purpose, dwindling and continuing until the maimed land had been rendered entirely infertile.