The way was long and hard. There has been casualties. Longtime friends which has been left. Maybe lost for ever. Trustworthy. But when I first laid eyes on this beautiful wonderland, I’ve known that it was worth it. The sadness of having friends left behind was overshadowed by the pure joy of finally setting foot on the magical kingdom of Macland. I’ve known that I had no right to be there. I grifted my pass to Macland. And on every step I took, the natives let me know that I wasn’t one of them. Sure, they were friendly and helpful. But I could tell from their looks what they really thought. Their arrogant little smirks, looking down on me when asked for directions. I would show them. I would become the master of this domain some day and then I would be the one looking down.

The shady dockworker, back in Wintown, that set up the deal to traffic me and my little companion iLMD to Macland, pointed me to a little enclave of refugees like me that was located in a run down town called Insanelyngen. The streets were full of outcasts and fugitives. All the natives saw was the sediments of Macland. The unwanted ones. But I saw a army. Those were not only revolutionists against the terror regime of Dr. Wingate. Those were revolutionists that made it. Those were man and woman that fought and won. Practical darwinism at it’s best.

A bright future indeed.