Literature
My book
The war began after the era of flying cars
when machines took on a life of their own. The time of the great Dogs, red machines that tower over the tallest of trees, eyes glowing deep as fire. They ravaged the earth, enslaving our kind, killing the old, the weak, and the ones that resisted. The few of us that escaped found refuge in the barren, forsaken places of the world. Our guardians, the half dogs
gray beasts neither human nor machine, fought for our freedom and us. Yet in the end, nothing mattered. They fell as we did
and as the last of them perished, we reverted back, back to the old ways. Before machines., when