it was a long year, living underground-- working by the moonlight and the hum of the street lights overhead. I spent every hour running from the units, evading their every move and trying to reach the coast. I had nothing left. Using the scraps of old 8 bit technology, I pieced together a machine capable of recreating the sounds of the resistance; something powerful. Before it finally collapsed and self-destructed, I had assembled the data I needed. With the disk in my hand, I fled to the hills. My only communications were, under an assumed alias, with a small troop of bandits via the internets. Now, this disk is everywhere. Don't sleep. Keep the furious fires flaming on fire. Afoot.