Long ago, in a forgotten prehistory, the Earth was ravaged by the so-called Demon War. A time traveller, named Chatravati, stands on a plateau and reminisces about a future in which he is yet to be born.
The warm breeze carried with it the scents of the plateau below. It was an acrid smell of sweat and decay, of gunpowder and poison and of corpses that rotted in the sweltering heat beneath the thunderclouds.
It had been said that the demons were constructing temples out of carcasses, enormous ziggurats of flesh and bone and face.