.

Year One

The first shot of the emergence,

An image long preserved.

The first latch of sealed fate,

Fate perhaps well deserved.

...

The pictures do not show the dead,

Yet still the dead we mourn.

Some killed on Emergence Day,

Others by Hammer's Dawn.

...

The images, they pile up,

As does the Locust Horde.

Their visages in every frame,

Their visages abhorred.

...

The pictures weave the threads of time,

Of the Locust War's first year.

Killing children, men and women,

Destroying all that we held dear.

...

Yet it was we who finished this,

Drowning Sera in light.

We thought it'd give us back our dawn,

But it only led to night.

...

The fight goes on, we will prevail,

At least that's the COG's lie.

But we who know the bitter truth,

Simply wait to die.