Looking around in all directions while walking across a rubble-strewn path littered with remnants of titanium shards it became apparent to Tilor that everything familiar was shattered into an indistinguishable filament of recognition. Many times while gazing off into the distance Tilor believed he could distinguish some fragment of civilization from the accumulated debris. Walking became a solace with each step an action that transmitted the pain embedded within the debris at his foot into his soul. There was nothing more that demanded his attention other than the constant tread along this path.
Every now and then he would come into contact with other sojourn citizen wonderers who were also traveling with mechanical steps on this his path. He would watch them also glance around in uncomprehending stares that exposed eyes that were not yet ready to see the endless expanse of destruction over mile upon mile.
There was nothing more important than to gather each citizen that he came into contact with up into his ever-expanding group of survivors. They became the seeds of a possible future civilization that would once again flourish. It was apparent beyond discussion to all of Tilor’s people that buildings, monuments, or anything solid with seeming permanence was nothing more than transitory future relics easily blown into dust. What was significant beyond comprehension was their understanding insistence that each and every citizen among them would survive beyond today in order that they might be able to raise a future civilization from these ashes of defeat.
Only through the cooperation of all remaining citizens would anything be achieved that would not be placed upon the quick sand of the transitory. His ‘rage tag’ group of refugees would continue walking in a direction that not even Tilor could discern as being a correct direction - they might slide inadvertently into a pocket of enemy annihilation ending up in one of the many ‘death zones’ that would vaporize them immediately. He would just have to trust in his subconscious judgmental acumen, finely tuned to a crisp sensitivity by all the destruction that it had absorbed - nothing would make him believe for one instant that the small strand of hope that tied everyone to a brighter future would break.