Letter: A Hopeless Soul

During the last couple of days, many friends asked why I looked so terrible, and how I got these dark circles around my eyes... I thought about it and believe it was not a big deal. I guess it's that beaker I broke. If we really need the details, I'd blame the beaker I tossed in the trash.

I couldn't stand the beaker. It kept asking me questions, so I smashed it.

It kept asking me how long. How long would these days last?

I looked at that rift, and saw ... nothing...

How long must we languish in this terrible fog?

My gramps told my dad that once we breach the rock stratum, we'd excavate even more ores. The wealth would eventually help us build a paradise at this very place.

My dad told me to get the science done and make Originium technology better for our civilization. The knowledge we gain would eventually help us build a paradise at this very place.

However, father...

The skies. They are gray.

The sky is gray.