I've thanked God for this mask more times than I can count. It reflects most everything; keeps me on the safe side of whatever's coming at me. Most times…

Dust storm left me no recourse. Came to a small encampment of refugees from Freehold, now buried. Most of them were workers at the old BrayTech facility, none too happy to see an Exo. One of them began to play a rueful tune on a cobbled-together string instrument. To this day, I haven't forgotten the words he sang:

Let me tell ya now
Bout the time the Devil walked through my door
Said oh, let me tell ya now
Bout the time the Devil walked through that door
Ain't nothin', nobody
Could hold me down anymore

It was mine, all mine
Devil gave me that golden ring
It was mine, all mine
Devil made me laugh and sing
But little by little
The Devil took my everything

It was wailin' and gnashin'
When the Devil did his dirty work
Just wailin' and gnashin'
When the Devil did his dirty work
Oh, what a fool had I been
Thinkin' I was above the dirt

In the dirt, they were buried
Made me blue to see that red
In the dirt, they were buried
Made me blue to see that red
Devil took no pity
Left me no place to rest my head

Lord, help the Devil
How'd he get to be so cruel
Lord, help that Devil
How'd he get to be so cruel
That mean old Devil
Was just some other devil's fool

This mask reflected the gaunt faces of the survivors, but it didn't hide me. I could feel hot tears stream down my cheeks. They saw their own pain in me. The accusatory glances stopped then, and a sad understanding remained. Because we all knew, this place will never be the same.