Prologue
London, 2035.
Stars danced in the night sky forming new constellations like a painting on a blank canvas; each a brilliant masterpiece. The moon took its place as guardian, watching the Earth below its God like presence. All was quiet: too quiet. No bombs fell from the sky, like rain falls from the clouds. No missiles darted through the air. The streets were empty; no aliens patrolling alongside the human army. Instead there was nothing. Nothing but silence. Surely this was not a good sign. Fifteen years of bombs and missiles invading the Earth and then nothing. It could not end as easily as that. Wars are more complicated than that; some sort of an agreement has to be made at least. There is no way this could ever be the end of the war. Not tonight.
The Earth was a completely different place compared to how it used to be. The older generation often tell tales of the Old Earth, where aliens were yet to be discovered and when they were, all evidence was covered up. The new generation did not believe those tales of old, they wanted proof but there was none to give. Since the war started, all records and archives, books and even the World Wide Web was destroyed. Earth became a world of war. A battle field. Death and destruction covered the world: no hope could be found anywhere. The future looked bleak, soon there would be no one left to carry the fireā¦
One legend gave people hope, only for a while. A legend that would travel the world: spoken and told in every language known to man. The legend of a man and his team so great, that battled against alien threats everyday risking their lives to save the world. Torchwood. A team of ordinary humans who were chosen by the immortal man: Captain Jack Harkness. If ever the team were in danger, Captain Jack Harkness would always die for them, only to come back to life shortly after. But how could they give people hope? The legend supposedly came from the year 2008 and there is no evidence of whether they truly did exist. Just a note. One single note left in every city in the world. Torchwood will always carry the flame. Just believe. No one knows who left the notes, but whoever it was they must have been a great man or completely insane. Supposedly the Torchwood team all died: all except Jack and a woman. But the hope soon died once people realised Torchwood was never coming back to help.
One man and his team with their alien technology. If only they were alive now to see how the world had become. Some people still believe they will find us and save the world once more, you can see it in their eyes. Just a glimmer of hope, that one day soon our lives will be saved and the Earth shall be free from alien threats. Hope that will only lead to disappointment. No one could save us. Not even Torchwood. This was the end of the world as we knew it.
