In the near future, the world has become a vast desert of death and spoils of already poverty-stricken countries. For the New World, where the dog eats the dog, and peace is a distant memory, long since devoured by the shadows of the past, a world of crime has arisen. Manipulation and destruction instilled dominance upon vast plains of sand that were once dubbed America, no lay under the rule of the infamous Sharps and their bloodthirsty leaders. However, in the shadows of Chicago's impoverished streets, a rebellion is rising. And their ringleader, a sly, yet equally as sharp Fox.

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Only a mere half-century after the resuming extermination of Castors atop American soil, a young girl stumbles across the blood-drenched streets of Chicago amidst the fighting. Just as she is nearing her time of death from sickness, she is rescued by a certain sharp-eyed Fox for all the wrong reasons.

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A distant drum,

A bugle boy blowing the horn of warning.

The sparkling blades of the soldiers are raised,

The commander voice of thunder booms,

Let blood be shed and victory be gained under the sun's holy rays.

War of blood,

War of death,

War which the devil's hand applaud.

A distant drum,

A bugle boy blowing the horn of warning,

His coat crimson with the prizes his sword has earned him.

The once sparkling swords of soldiers who now lay dead,

The silver black as the crimson staining it dries.

The commander flees away shamefully into the distance,

And with every last bit of cowardly breath he cries,

No victory is won,

And our sun has long gone.