You think you know the truth.
You don’t.

It is the Year of our Lord 1949 and the world is in flames. The human race screams in agony as open war rages unchecked around the planet. Nations die and hundreds of millions perish as the thin veneer of civilization cracks then splits and is finally utterly consumed in a global orgy of savagery and rage.
The battlefields of Europe, Asia, and Africa are mass graves haunted by countless dead and stalked by the hollow-eyed shells of things that once were men. Weaponized chemical agents pollute blasted trench lines and the ruined charnel houses that were once great cities. Toxic clouds of ash and smoke swirl about the skeletal remains of capitals and cultural centers where the spirit of optimism and hope is consumed by desolation and the hot burn of atomic radiation. Massive armored behemoths stride into battle like deities of myth and legend spitting fiery death from their fearsome guns. Hard-faced men put their faith in gas masks and bullets because the gods do not answer their prayers.
It is widely believed that these are the end times, that this is Ragnarök, the final battle and that the very gates of hell yawn wide to disgorge demons and ruin. Old evil things shake off the dust of centuries as they crawl forth from their dark lurks to join in the murderous frenzy. Humanity buckles and drops to its knees, bathed in the sickly glow of the twilight of the gods.
This is Götterdämmerung.











