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[20 May 2010|04:23pm] |
 | Wars are often fought, and often forgotten, and on Arbas al Uat this is not simply a fact of life, but life itself.
Pulled away from worlds, families, and missions they do not remember, twenty teams of Blanks fought against each other. They made alliances and enemies, killed and died, and in the end one team stood victorious over the rest. They were returned their memories. They were returned to their homes.
That was eleven rounds ago. At the start of the twelfth round of the War, only nine teams yet remain. Once again they have forgotten everything but the fleeting sense of camaraderie with their own team, and the instilled distrust of all others. This is War, after all, and even without recollection of the previous eleven rounds, they tire of the endless loop. Fight, steal, deal, survive, and always always try to get ahead. To be better means to escape. The best teams won early, and escaped long ago, but now to be the best of the worst still means a chance at freedom. At home.
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