There's a man somewhere out there named Trevor Hartmann. He wears the suit of your enemy and wanders an endless wasteland looking for something. Anything, really. He, in all honesty, has no clue what he's looking for. All the man can do is drag himself from place to place, listening for a signal on the half-busted radio stuck to his belt. This day Trevor Hartmann finds himself on shambling down a long winding road by a beautiful beach. Gulls circle him from the skies as he wanders, cawing and chirping as they do. They won't be keeping him company for long though. The sun is drowning in the ocean and the sky is turning a hue of red. Trevor pauses in the middle of the road, feeling for his canteen. His throat is scratchy and exhaustion is starting to set in. His legs feel like jelly. The gray canteen is bone-dry. Bad news. Stars are starting to twinkle overhead. The gulls are fleeing off to their respective nests where they may sit in peace. Trevor is left alone to wander the edge of the world. After at least another thirty minutes of wandering down a long abandoned highway, he spots a rickety shack overlooking the sand. Feeling a surge of hope, Trevor scrambles forward. But something stops him dead in his tracks. The crunch of the gravel under his jackboots ceases. There's a low humming somewhere in the near distance. Just at his flank. The roaring engine of a car. Anxiety fills Trevor's chest, he quickly starts off toward the shack again. The engine gets closer, and closer. Trevor breaks into a jog. The shack is getting closer, but so is the car. Trevor glances over his shoulder to see a distant mass speeding towards him. The sound of a screaming engine grows louder. He starts to run, he runs as fast as he can. Fight or flight. Run. It's close. By now the people in the scrap-mobile can see just who's ahead of them. Trevor is a panicked mess, panting and bumbling incoherently. They show no signs of stopping, Trevor knows he isn't going to make it. This is what he asked for. THUNK. "WOOHOO! OOOH FUCK YEAH, WE GOT HIM!" ... A man lays in the dirt, staring at a beautiful beach through a cracked lense. This is Trevor Hartman.