A young man was sitting with his legs on the couch, his shoulders leaning against the back. It was evening. The sky changed color from orange to crimson and was getting darker closer to the horizon. A lilac haze was creeping from the eastern side of the celestial sphere. The clearing in front of the living complex was gradually drowning in darkness. There were only a few moments left before the external lighting turned on, and all the magic of twilight would shatter. This was his favorite time of day, a special hour when the ancient luminary star hides beyond the horizon while the Earth continues its rotation around the axis and towards the night.

A soft, warm blanket covered his legs. With his cheek rested on his hand, he traced his bulging stomach with his fingers in anticipation of the next impatient kick from the inside.

And so – the streetlights blinked and began to light up. He sighed, turned away from the window, fished out a tablet, and quickly ran his fingers across the screen.

“Greetings, young generation! Finally, nothing distracts me from sharing the latest news that changed the course of our history. For the ‘who-knows-for-what-time’ in a row, this has been happening so often over the past thousand years, that I won’t be surprised if I witness another few eras change before this upcoming Christmas! Things escalated so swiftly that even I, a representative of the ‘renewed race’, still cannot wrap my head around all this. However, everything is real. And you have the right to know exactly how things are now and how they used to be. After all, you will not hear this from some kind of outside observer or a green humanoid. I, myself, will tell you everything. I'll tell you my story. I’ll tell you about your story. I’ll tell you the story of Earth after the cleaning. And how we gained hope for a rebirth from the fall of the entire human civilization.”

He read the introduction a few more times, frowning and biting his lip. Well, it could be worse. That sounded slightly snooty in his opinion, but he had no desire to fix anything right now.

A key recognition alert beeped in the hallway. His features smoothed, a smirk ran across his lips, and a mischievous spark lit up his eyes. He heard a rustling noise in the next room, and then the guest proceeded to the bedroom, where, in fact, the beginning chronicler – our hero of the story – was waiting in darkness. Their glances crossed: milk chocolate met black bottomless abysses.