modern day the future!]
A horrid hellscape where traces of life are rarely apparent beyond the odd skittering insect. The air is choked by fluttering debris and the smell of offal. A solitary figure, faintly visible in the distance, hove into view.
Matt Millen: Maaaaaatttttttt-E
[A lone plant begins to peak out of the barren soil]
[Millen runs over it with his treads]
[He scoops up a bunch of trash into his torso and spits out another highly touted rookie bust before scurrying along]