Текст: Forty Days Rain. Temptation Of Our Own Demise. Zero Hour.

Security in faceless hands. Minds plugged into a dying host. Creation by the mock creators who commit us to certain downfall. The dark millenium unfolding slowly. Silhouettes of the children born of the vitual world left to wander in the blue hue of a world in doom. Moving backwards as the countdown begins. Billions invested to save the dying mind. A brainless interactive span of global info education that was never meant to last. The rains begin to fall. The faceless screen grins contently