I shall begin by telling you how this planet died.

One day, in the summer of a year in the distant past, one country was testing it's nuclear arsenal. Unbeknownst to them, a force beyond their control tore it's system apart, sending it wildly towards another: legend has it that it was called China. After China began decaying into extinction, it's neighbouring countries began accusing the one who fired the missile - this country was tiny, some say it was named Choreeah - accusing them of foul play.

Days passed into months where the world was tested to fracturing. The strongholds in the south and west began to obliterate the east into rocks. In return, an eastern fortress of Russia released plagues upon the western forces, wiping them out in less than a week. Eventually, even the central countries of Europe couldn't sit and watch any more, and eventually, the entire world was consumed.

The people died out. Legend has it that the last people on this world fled to a far away landscape known as Antarctica to survive. Some people still believe that we are the descendants of those last settlers. From the earth, the land of Contania arose. In the summer, the light stays out all the time, while the winter stays shrouded in darkness.

The lands beyond the sea are inaccessible since nuclear extinction. We are all that survives of this planet. Or so we thought. This is the story of the Youthful Flesh, and of how one choice made long ago, has written our destiny in time. I am Carmen of the southern mountains.