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We were once mankind.

We were humanity.

And now...

We're no more than pests.

Vermin.

They came here to exterminate us.

They took our history and culture.

They covered our landworks in dying humanity.

The wail of the dying carried for miles.

They're building some kind of breeding facility

for those that survive.

People that have defected say it's worse than Hell,

humans becoming some kind of surrogate incubators

for the alien young.

They killed us in waves when they first arrived.

They built these megastructures that spew methane,

manufacturing their atmosphere.

They've sown their crops,

snuffing out our plant life,

raising the global temperature, causing our cities to flood.

They waged war on Earth.

They set fire to our forests.

It's already hard to breathe...

impossible to breathe if you are close to the stacks.

Rats...

insects...

humans...

they hack into our psyche,

into our minds,

paralyzing us,

taking control of the cerebrum and the limbic system,

rendering us slaves.

We've been able to design a brain barrier

that protects us from their influence.

They know we can't produce enough of these for everyone,

that it's just a matter of time

before the entire planet is theirs...

but we're survivors.

Scrounging enough to eat...

gathering enough morale to fight.

I wonder if deep down,

each person knows we're already dead.

I wonder if only one, sick, primordial instinct

keeps marching us forward aimlessly.

Every rational thought tells us it's over.

Every vile, deceptive, chemical emotion

tells us it isn't.

We are sold a different story by our politicians.

Come with us!

Do not be afraid!

They want what's best for us!

Come on.

They have built a conservatory for us!

Paradise!

Put down your guns!

There it is.

Come on, freaky-faced fuck. Come on.

Come with us!

Do not be afraid!

They have built a conservatory!

Come with us, friends!

Come on, come on, come on.

...paradise!

I'll go to the new conservatory.

Take me with you, please.

There it is. There it is.

Every once in a while, something goes our way.

Just one in a thousand.

Just enough to keep fighting.

A glimmer of hope.

People will pay for this.

They always do.

Even for small victories,

it would seem that everything was lost.

Humanity would soon cease to exist.

Until they arrived,

like angels carried on the rays of the Aurora Borealis.

Like a biblical salvation.

The new world altered everyone.

Adapt or die, it was as simple as that.

In the old world, Nosh would have been locked up.

A pyromaniac, a bomb-maker...

but here, he not only survived, he thrived.

Nosh could make just about anything out of scavenged junk.

Bombs, brain locks... anything.

We needed him, and he knew it.

How many you got?

Uh, four.

No.

We need more than that.

Sure, yeah.

And payment?

You can do the usual?

Yeah, yeah, sure.

What about the...

the item?

We've heard about it.

Yeah, um...

It's not for sale.

You piece of shit.

You don't fuckin'...

Wait.

My friend...

we need your help. You know that.

Yeah.

Everything has a price,

and we can pay you.

Sure.

Hmm.

Hey, Jasper.

I'm glad these fucking things came here.

They mean that I get to burn whatever I see.

Every day.

Every night.

No laws.

No fucking jails.

The fire...

The fire.

What is it with you and the fucking fire?

Fire!!!

I'll die and perish in the fire someday.

You say you need my help?

For what?

For a fucking hope for things to go back to the way they were?

Just give me... gimme some bait.

Some bait?

I just need some bait,

some of your people...

some of your people,

some of the sick you don't need.

I'm two seconds away

from blowing this motherfucker's head off.

Oh, it would be so good. So much fun.

Just a little more!

Gimme some bait.

Gimme some bait.

It'll make the "boom" bigger.

I'll take out an entire convoy.

That'll help you, right?

I have enough ordnance to make this fire breathe.

You're an interesting person, Nosh.

Have fun in the fire.

Oh, I will.

Some sick people in exchange for Nosh's item.

In peacetime, such an offer would be insane.

Immoral.

But now... anything's possible.

Ma'am, we've done everything we can.

He's not responding.

All right. Let's go.

We picked up Amir in Sector 7.

At first, they thought he was dead,

some refuse from one of their experiments.

Amir?

Amir?

Amir... Hey.

I'm not going to hurt you.

Look at me.

You can help us.

Kill him.

Just fucking kill him.

All that shit they put in his head.

-He's not even one of us-- -Stop.

I'm not going to hurt you.

I know what they did.

It's okay.

Let's get this off.

There.

You're free.

We've gotta check the wounded, ma'am.

Okay.

It's okay.

I'm Sarah.

I need to ask you for a favor.

I give you food,

you do me a favor.

Okay?

It's okay, it's okay. It's fine.

I need to see what it did to you.

It's okay.

This world had changed all of us...

but Amir had been reborn...

with something entirely new.

You see all these men?

They're going out to fight.

To try to make it how it was before.

To stop those beasts from doing more of this...

What is it with her

and that fucking thing?

Her daughter is gone.

Everyone's daughter is gone.

The ones that are experimented on,

who survive...

the very few...

Her theory is

it's because they have some kind of predisposition.

They're savants of some kind.

And Amir is like that.

These men are trying to stop the genocide.

Alpha team! Move out!

They're ready to sacrifice themselves.

Let's go!

They don't have to die tonight.

Help us.

Please.

Tell me what futures you see.

Turn to the left.

Incoming!

You can help us turn the tide, Amir.

We can beat them.

Threat down in Fox Squadron.

Threat down.

All right, everyone, triple-check those brain locks.

I don't want anyone looking at it,

and keep out of its line of sight, right?

What do you see?

Do you see us winning, Amir?

Go! Go! Go!

Can we learn to hunt them?

Can we make them fear us?

Go! Go!

Amir...

Do you remember what they did to you?

They do experiments all day and all night.

They tear people apart.

It's wounded!

That fucking thing! Don't let it get away!

Billions die...

No one lives.

Not through that.

But every once in a while, a miracle happens.

One in ten million, like you.

Someone who somehow survives...

Their cruelty.

Those things have given you an amazing power.

A gift.

Beyond man.

Don't look at it!

Look away!

You can do the things they do.

Put it down, Martinez! Put it down!

Don't do it, Martinez!

Don't do it!

Amir...

Please tell me...

What futures do you see?

Cut its fucking head off.

Amir, it's tine.

You have to use what they gave you.

It's not a choice.

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