In the age of steam and glory the world was supposed to be a better place. Great empires had sprung up to protect their people and ensure there was food, warmth, and shelter for all. No one wanted for anything, and poverty was a foreign concept. In those charmed years the world was a utopia, and no one could imagine their blissful lives coming to an end. But, as in all things, perfection could not last. Powers grew restless, eyeing their neighbouring lands greedily and wishing to expand their own influence. In secret they began developing weapons and building armies, biding their time until the moment to strike came.
It happened seemingly overnight. One day the world was as it had always been, the next bombs were falling on their perfect cities and bodies littered their streets. Not expecting to be attacked, they were defenceless and afraid. Panic struck quickly, neighbours turning on neighbours, and families divided in their loyalties. Rot in the old ways or fight in the new. Those who refused to accept the ways of war were killed or imprisoned, and those left behind were forced to scrabble to survive, fighting for scraps and desperate for the shelter they had once taken for granted.
It was the children who adapted first, creating new ways to make a living without going off to a war they could care less about. These ways would last for several generations, until one man took exception to them.