Desert Nomads

It's been 200 years since the collapse, long before my time. I've only ever seen twisted and rust-devoured parts of an engine. Nobody survives in these wastes forever, and I need to find a way to the promised land, if it even exists. My father used to tell me stories of the nomads that worshiped the machine gods. Legends say that they roam the desert dunes in a machine larger than life. A machine that lives and breathes. Perhaps they can lead me to my destination. The time has come for me to leave, as I've been preparing for many suns and moons. If you're reading this note then I have embarked on my journey. May your own adventure have a destination, and don't let the raiders catch you. -Vince