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.