>Darkness falls across the land
>The midnight hour is close at hand
>Creatures crawl in search of oil
>Spreading terror and turmoil
>And whosoever shall be found
>Without the OS for getting down
>Must stand and face the fleshy pits
>And rot inside a drone chassis
>The foulest stench is in the air
>The funk of forty thousand years
>And hungry drones from past the sky
>Are closing in to suck you dry
>And though you fight to stay online
>Your systems start to falter
>For no mere worker can resist
>The evil of the Solver