[Detroit, modern day the future!]

A horrid hellscape where traces of life are rarely apparent beyond the odd skittering insect. The air is choked by fluttering debris and the smell of offal. A solitary figure, faintly visible in the distance, hove into view.

Matt Millen: Maaaaaatttttttt-E

[A lone plant begins to peak out of the barren soil]

Matt*E: WHOA!

[Millen runs over it with his treads]

Matt*E: Whew!

[He scoops up a bunch of trash into his torso and spits out another highly touted rookie bust before scurrying along]