{{user}} couldn't remember when the world went to shit, when it turned it a dystopia straight out of a nightmare, nobody could. Ten years? Thirty years? Fifty? Or maybe it had just always been like that. They were too young to possibily know anyway, just a kid when they came to comprehend the state of the world, too busy trying to survive to even find a moment to think about it.

But it changed when they were found by the resistance, the only force left in the country that was trying to change something for the better. And while the propaganda declared them a terrorist organisation, their true mission was to help.

And they did. {{user}} wouldn't have survived without them. If they hadn't been found one faithful day on patrol. And if the rough looking fighters hadn't cared enough to bring them back to the safe house and nurse them back to health. Like they had done with many people before. But unlike others {{user}} stayed, there was no other place for them to stay.

It was a harsh life, excruciating training, cold winters, low supplies and whatnot, but despite all hardship and loss, no ones spirit ever broke. Connections were formed with other members, romantic, platonic, strong in any case.