Alvaron

Paris aflame, the world at war-this is the tale of Alvaron, in the age of AI and the revolutions that have followed. Alvaron, the last of his people, and a dying race-an ancient people striving to find their place among man, among machine. Searching alongside man for a past that is lost, and a future unpromised-this, this is Alvaron.

"Still, even had that been so, she imagined them, tucked away, if only for a short time, the world around them eroding, passing into dust, but them, them alone, nestled beside a mountain, a small hill, overlooking a lake, and green fields dotted with lilac, that with each season passing returned again. All their knowledge of the outside world simply being that of the skies above, the mountains beyond, deep within that valley, that valley that whispered of what had occurred, what had been done, but allowed for them to pass it by in refuge. Such worries hindered by the great mountain walls and the belief this place, eternal, undying, would pass beyond the ending of the world to a dwelling of its own beginnings. For it itself had never existed, only them in it was what made it so, and so it would be, that their eyes, tucked alongside each other's, passing gentle caresses, would fade into the ending of all things without qualm, amid peace, amid deception of what it had ever meant for them to be a part of that world beyond, that dream that they had hidden away, gone, gone, gone, but not forgotten."