>A dead light rises over the waste. 
>You look up and squint, the light hurts your eyes.
>Peaking over the edge, you see the silhouettes of shattered trees.
>The last stubborn vestiges of nature. Determinedly clinging to the earth.
>The light falls slowly, the shadows lengthen.
>The light comes to a rest. Darkness consumes the waste once again.
>You sit back down, back against the wall.
>Someone brushes past you.
>And another.
>Pale eyes glint in the moonlight. Badges and buttons glint silently.
>Someone grabs your shoulder. Yanking you into the press.
>Into the flow and press. A human river of sweat and fear.
>All of a sudden it stops. The men to your side turn and face the wall.
>The light returns. They can see the fear on your face.
>A howl like a dragon is followed by another.
>Distantly you hear the fruits of their exploits. An unceasing drum beat.
>At the first whistle your step forward.
>The second you grip the ladder, no more than a few nailed together planks and branches.
>The third you start to climb.
>Your first step into the waste. Light by the pale light.
>Forwards to whatever awaits.