Thirty years ago, there was a war. Yes, as long as humans had existed, wars had come and gone with the ages, but this one seemed to differ from others before it. This war set a course for humans, being the first war to be fought between Earth and outer space. It all started on that day in February, the day that was called "Valentine's Day". I myself was born several years after the event, but I am still marveled by it nonetheless. That day was reputed for starting as any normal day, with people living their lives as they always did, and life generally being tranquil. But then it happened during that night: a great flash that lit up the dark sky like the birth of a second sun. A light that simultaneously captured the attention of every human being around the planet. A light that forever marked the change of an era.

Since that great flash, nothing had ever been the same since. The once tranquil days that were enjoyed by the humans on this planet had ended, as the conflict between the two nations of Earth and Space had finally broken into a violent struggle. The sound of explosions and gunfire, as well as the sights of blood and destruction seemed to have become normality when watching the news. There wasn't a day where images of mobile suits marching down a destroyed city, soldiers firing at an unseen target with their machineguns or some form of fighting wasn't shown to the public. The war engulfed all humans, no matter what nationality or race. Even the neutral nations were affected in some way. Nobody officially won that war, as it all led up to the nations expending their resources and growing too thin in strength to continue.

That war came and passed like the ones before it, having been decided at the fortress Jachin Due. Peace soon followed and once again the days had become tranquil. However, the influence of that war did not cease, as like a great and terrible hydra, other wars had risen up where the last had left off. These wars were even more devastating than the last, as more atrocities were committed across the Earth than ever before. Not long after, the original rulers of humanity had been swept away, followed by the tyrants that attempted to rise in their place. Without anyone to lead the planet, everything soon dropped into chaos. And even after the nations had ended up exhausting each other for the second time, the fighting did not end, as it had grown out of the control of politicians and the military like a wild fire. Renegades grew more in number, weapons that had once been in the hands of militaries soon found their way into the hands of rogues and bandits, and things that should not have been forgotten had become lost one way or the other.

The world had become a far more dangerous place than it had been before.

There have been times as of late when I look up into the sky once more, searching for the light that shown brightly Thirty years ago among the stars. If it shown again on this devastated planet, what kind of change would it bring with it? Would it bring the peace that had long since past? Or would it throw the world into a deeper chaos? All I know is as I look up at the sky, watching for the briefest sign of light, the world continues on…

but to what?