After the waters rolled back, and the shadow ran from the light, the bones of the fallen crawled up to the surface from beneath the ground. The bones welled up to the surface from beneath the plain, turning it white. There was blood in the veins and in the marrow, in this living field of pain. To look upon it is to look upon eons of death and destruction, violence and violation. To walk upon it is to live the nightmare, to feel and to know the nightmare, in every minute detail. Tears are the rain that fall on this field. Dread and depression are its even mood, terror and fear are the brighter side. It is where we live forever, where we were born and where we can never die. Our troubles linger here, haunt and wait for the next resident, fresh meat, flesh, blood, and emotion. It is the cradle of humanity, the true garden of Eden.