John and I hiked through the long tunnel. Though just wide enough for two humans to fit through, my grandson told me that it was the same tunnel I travelled through in a van 23 years ago, just squashed under the tectonic shifts of the land. Burnt out electric lamps still hung on the wall, but the only source of light came from our torches, showing the way with cones of white. Our feet crunched the damp earth beneath us, the air cold from the frosted misty breaths I breathed. The dripping of water played in the background.

I asked him, “So, you're what? Twenty six?”

“Twenty seven,” John replied. “Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering, you know.”

“Why?”

“Why are you asking why?”

“Just curious,” he replied matter-of-factly, which was the same answer I would have given. “My mom says I got it from you, curiosity.”

I wanted to remind him that that was not physically possible, but remembered what Newt said about families sharing faces after a time, even if we aren't related by blood. “And I got it from my grandfather,” I instead said. “Runs in the family.”

“Yup. Skipped Milly though.” We continued walking a distance with no sight of Amelia or any of the other soldiers. “She just charges through.”

I held up the watch that I had pulled off Borris's corpse. I wondered if I would be able to feel nausea at his death, now that my mind and gag reflexes has been severed. And if not, does the fact that I did not vomit on the spot show a sign of some sort on sociopathic apathy? “So what are you guys? Tikika soldiers?”

John remained silent and continued walking, and I knew I had hit a rusted nail. It should have been the point where any normal person under normal circumstances should back away. But I can confidently say that not only was I not a normal person, being a cyborg. And the conditions we were in were far from normal. At least, for me. Not to mention that I was his grandfather.

“You're definitely not from The Forum. Hillbury? Roagnark? Lucinda? Penstine?” I pushed.

With a sigh, he replied, “Milton. There aren't any cities left.”

Stunned, I said, “You don't mean...”

From further down the tunnel, Amelia shouted rather casually, “Everything is gone!”

And following immediately after with incredible synch, John added, “The Forum's and us are the only one left. As far as we know anyway.”

I slowed down my pace and John slowly slipped out of my sight as I pondered the implication of the sentence. I could still see the light from his torch and I followed it diligently. “Who's us?” I asked.

“Bunch of small groups. Wanderers, rovers, small villages in other Mist free natural formations. Most of which are just area smaller than a basketball court. It's been like this for about five years now,” he replied grimly. I could only listen lamentably that everything Joan had did for the world had been buried under within the past decade. “At the start, The Forum just used the machines to sort of barricade themselves away from the rest of the cities. Self sufficiency. Then suddenly, the robots started attacking.”

I managed to catch up with him, sighting his back. “What happened after that? You're saying all the rest of the cities fell to robots from one place? What about the armies?”

“Sure, we put up a fight at first,” he continued, not turning around to face me. “But they are robots. When we destroy one of them, they'd just pick up the pieces and put themselves back together. We didn't stand a chance against them. Immune to Mist and able to resurrect themselves. It was insanity. An endless army.”

From there though, I couldn't think of anything to ask further. It was a pretty clear cut situation. The world had a war. And we, the humans, lost.

From the front of the line, Amelia shouted, “John! Mask on! We're near the exit.”

Listening to his sister, he put his mask back on before turning to me to offer his spare.

I accepted it, but not without asking, “Is this necessary? I already have Mist poisoning.”

She must have heard me for Amelia yelled, “It's a precaution, you idiot!” Her angry voice echoed down far behind and onwards. “We don't have many doctors left to treat your condition so we've got to take as much care as we can!”

I huffed somewhat childishly, “Fine...” And wore the mask. Though it was a simple rubber cap mask, I had some trouble with feeling its position on my head and had to slow down to manually adjust it. It was then I was reminded how all these small simple actions are hindered by my physical numbness. I asked John, “Is she always like this? I don't remember anyone in the family as hot headed as her.”

“Yeah, well again, sorry about that. She was four years after me. Born just right at the end of the year after you were bought here.” As we continued our way to the exit. “So unlike me, she wasn't around your Cryo-Tube at all. Didn't really see your existence. To her, the stories of you were mostly just that, stories. She has a lot to live up to with very little motivation to do so. Imagine growing up in a hopeless world surrounded by people with stories of hope. It can drive you up the wall sometimes.”

“Huh...” was all I replied and wondered how much difference not being around me could actually make a person.

He swung his pack around and rummaged through it, pulling out a black ball of cloth. “Here,” he tossed it to me.

Reflexively, I caught it. Unfolding the bundle revealed a black canvas hoodie.

“Zip up. There's a pair of glove in the sleeves. Wear the jacket into the glove. Let's try to reduce the amount of Mist exposure you get.”

I did as I was told, but again, somewhat rebelliously replied, “Couldn't you have just gotten me one of those suits of yours?”

“Yeah, well, these things are kind of hard to come by. What you see is what we have,” he explained. A glow appeared from the end of the tunnel and the surrounding was slowly lit up with a faint teal. We turned our torches off. “Don't worry though. We're not travelling far. We have a vehicle just outside the cave waiting for us.”

“Cave?” I wondered, remembering that right outside the path was just one of the side road of the underground highway. How was it possible that we will walk through a cave if the other end was equally beneath the earth.

As the light grew brighter and brighter, I could hear the lenses of my camera eyes adjusting their irises to compensate for the change in brightness. I could see the edge of the tunnels ending as John stepped into the light. As I felt the answer to my question dawn on me, I followed out into the Mist covered sun before a conclusion was drawn, and could only stand breathless, shoulders slumped, at the sight that appeared instead.

To my left and right were the remains of the underground highway. Dark and emptied, debris filled the roads. The painted lines had long since been rubbed away by time. But right in front of me, where a wall and ceiling should have been, was instead a hole the size of a...well, I don't know. I had nothing in my life to compare it to. Perhaps the entire length and height of the original chamber that housed the Cryo-Tube. That was how large the hole was. Blown inwards, the remains of the walls were crunched as rubble on the road before us. A smooth, curved, half-pipe dirt incline, about a hundred meters in length, stretched up and out to the ground world above, revealing the faint sun behind the thick Mist. A glowing glob in the sky.

“What the hell happened here?” I asked, stunned at what laid before me.

“War,” Amelia said as we caught up to her. “War happened. Beyond here is the battlefield of Tikika. And this crater was part of the last desperate bombardment attempted to put a stop to the Forum.”

I felt out of my depth. More so than all the other times before. I was in the aftermath of a war zone, fought nearly half a century from the point in my life where all the madness started. In a foreign world, with people I only knew for a few hours. I suddenly felt inexplicably alone.

“Not just any war,” John continued. “It's the Last War. The last of the wars that we will ever fight as the human race.”