A war erupts across the world like no other. Cheered throughout the nations, celebrated to be the war to end all wars. It’s coming was warned by many in the know, heeded by none in power. All had different expectations out of this greater war. Some to regain power to their declining empires, some to build new nations and others to see old rivalries buried forever in victory. But all had one expectation that they shared; Just another war like any other, human against human. They were all at fault. Enter, Hiram Maxim. An ordinary man with a love for the technical, was the inception of what is to come. Having the idea of cycling a gun with the power of the machine itself, he created a future of death. His body of flesh long gone, but his legacy of the repeating machine lives strong. Last qualities of the human spirit was extinguished in the new war, dominated by the machine forever. Soldiers hid in mud castles and prayed desperately as the screaming maw of the artillery rained explosive death upon them. Colors and flags diminished, forgotten and shunned. Replaced by the earthen tones to hide and survive from the eye in the scope, least the sniping bullet will catch them. The safety of numbers and the camaraderie was reaped in the hundreds of thousands by the scything bolt. The too proud standards of nations was now shy to face the machine that can strike without mercy or care. Even those who pride themselves in military rank and status removed their elaborate caps and hid them, least the machine’s deadly gaze would find them.