It emerged from the haze of the desert—a hulking, brutalist mass of darkened metal, silent and slow. They named it the Trogan, an ominous relic drifting just feet above the fractured, pink dunes. No signals, no lights, and no sound betrayed the immense power contained within its reinforced hull.

Its purpose remains the greatest unknown. Is it a vessel of forgotten technology or a new form of machine consciousness? The Trogan advances, a colossal, indifferent monument to a future that offers no answers. It is the silent question mark on the horizon, inexorably crawling toward what little humanity remains.