My grandfather once told me stories of living metal, metal with souls. He said his ancestors lived through war and peace with the mechanical creatures. He called them Transformers, or Autobots in many cases. They were made of a metal scientists named Transformian,  an element found nowhere on Earth.

I didn't believe him, how could I? We lived in an age where metal was used for arrowheads and knives, and even then it was very rare. I was lucky enough to have my one small hunting knife, something I had discovered on one of my small adventures.

My grandfather told me that such creatures had once existed though. That they had been exiled and hunted down to extinction like many creatures on earth.

Before world war three there had been another war hundreds of years prior, the war of the Transformers.

"In this war," he told me, "Man had created it's own transforming machines. It's own transformers using the pieces from the Autobots they had hunted down and brutally murdered."

"Grandfather," I would tell him every time he told me this story, "This was over two hundred years ago. How could you know this?"

"Because my ancestors have passed this story down from generation to generation and now I am telling you."

I would stand up, kiss his cheek and them smile sweetly at him. "Okay Grandfather." And then I would leave to do better things than listen to my elder and hear his crazy stories of Transformers.

Since world war three the earth has been trying to heal itself. The Russians had launched multiple nuclear attacks which backfired when three of their own missels jammed and exploded in their own country. Millions upon millions were killed and thousands more were left injured beyond repair. All hell broke loose as people began to try and survive only to kill each other in the end.

Now, small villages and nomadic tribes of people are scattered over the earth, learning on their own how to survive like our ancestors hundreds of years ago.

New traditions, new medicines, and a new way of life is what keeps the earth turning. But somewhere, deep within our planet, she wants to remind us of what happened years before. Sometimes she wants us to repeat history against our own free will. And she gets what she wants one way or another.