Time is marked by the passage of the moon.

Sanity is measured by the beat of the heart.

There was no warning, just cold, heavy boots pounding across the hard tiled floor.

John was focused on his cards. Finally a good hand, he had been dealt rubbish all afternoon. Now something good had come his way and winning would brighten his weekend, but they were cards that he would never get to play.

The hand that fell on his shoulder was heavy with fate and marked the end of the winning streak he was yet to have. No explanation, just the name of a person he barely knew. He was taken to a place the military called the Bastion. A fortified wall dumped in the middle of suburbia to segregate the clean from Bedlam.

As the reaper moon took charge of the suburban sky, millions of years of evolution were being wiped out. Death didn't walk the streets, it galloped. It didn't hide in the shadows; it unashamedly dressed the streets in carnage. Looking into Bedlam from the wall was a vision of insanity and showed a dark future.

At the epicenter of the chaos was the only beacon of hope. Babylon. The five chosen for the mission are not a team. Each member has their own agenda and can't be trusted. John is alone and time is running out, for everyone.

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