This is a rough craft of a story I've been thinking about. It's basically a part of the first chapter I originally wrote it in finnish, so some things may have been lost i translation, but If you want more... I'd be happy to write more. If there's no response, I'll just quit. For any response, I give thanks in advance and continue. So in essence, if you want more, just ask for it.

I’m awake.
My eyes aren't open, but I'm aware of my state of consciousness. There are flashes of green, red and purple on black background that are frequently washed away by waves of different shades of red, orange and yellow. There's a meaning behind these colours. A profound meaning about our current being of existence. They say the eyes are the mirror of the soul. Is my soul messaging me about what's happening. What would be the point of that? Our existence is for us to excercise. There's no knowing what will be, so in essence, we're tied to what we do and when we do it. Life is a complicated matter... life is-
Then I wake up again but still remain my eyes closed. The forest is getting less dense. The sun makes its way through. I imagine the dead branches reaching up in the sky. Towards the sun. As if an attempt to get a grasp of the life it gives; and the irony that it was it that killed them in the end. Not the bombs. Not the human nature. But, absurdly, the giver of life itself. We were only a catalyst in the creation the condition. Our destructive habits could not destroy the profound. And the harm was caused only to ourselves. The trees do not care. The sun doesn't care. The nature comes out as she wills.
And none this matters. Not the past wrongs nor the future to be. What matters, is now.
We're moving. The rear end of what used to be a van bounces on degraded pavement. This means the sandstorm of last night has passed. The brahmins give occasional moos. As if discussing. A commentary of the situation from one head to another; and from one pair of heads to antoher pair. The priest and the ghoul are discussing something I can not quite hear, but I presume it's about religion. As allways between those two. The caravan steadily moves towards the giant facility of Greenville, and I am slowly waking from between various boxes and containers under several brahminskins.

The young mother, with little Lucy in his lap, asks: "What is this Greenville like?" And as there is no immediate answer, she continues, but this time only mumbling to herself: "I'd hate to settle down in yet another hive of scum and rapists."
"It's not an ideal place to raise children, if that's what you mean", the ghoul says finally. "It is a decent place to survive for a small while, though."
"What does that mean?"
"There's a lot of mischief there. At least before you get inside." The ghoul pauses for a moment, and then continues: "But that might take a while."
"Inside what? Why does it take time?"
"Inside the city itself. The outskirts are guarded, but the sensibilities of the supermutants isn't... well, not as eloquent as ours can be. The random selection policy is what causes the time. You may not see the insides of the city ever in your life. It has happened before." The ghoul scratches its gums from where the upper lip should be. "Poor Paul." A pause. "Anyway. As it is, you'd be better off in some of the neighboring settlements."
"But I've heard so many tales about their expertise in medicine. I've heard they provide clean food and water. And protection."
"That's only on a superficial level. It is mostly true, or... used to be. The outskirts these days are more like a gangterritory under the surface. On the top it looks like a nigh perfect place to settle down, but once you're there, the true nature of the area tends to become painfully apparent. People linger there in hopes of getting inside the city, which may happen at any point if you're chosen and pass the tests, but other than thatm, it's a hideous place to live your life."
The young mother sounds as if in the verge of tears: "[censored]! [censored] this. It never gets any better for me. I'm doomed to live as a vagrant to be exploited."
"There, there, child" the priest suddenly says in a calm, comforting voice. "You can always seek sanctuary from the church of the holy mother. Our community does not turn its back for those oppressed by the harsh qualities of living in the wastes."
"Yeah, you just brainwash the people and exploit their devotion in your own ways." The ghoul chuckles. "Please do not poison the mind this young life with your superstition. She has a child. She doesn't need the additional 'burden of redemption' on her back."
"The little you know" priest says. "The way of-"

"Don't give me that [censored]." The ghoul distracts. "We all know what religion is. It's just another form control." He then turns to the young mother, and continues: "See, religion is based on beliefs on something you can not prove right or wrong. You get claims that a higher power created what you hold in your hands and see around you, but it can not withstand questioning and when you start to question things, you are cast out or get some [censored] explanations about how what you question is suddenly 'indirectly' a cause of this higher power. It relies on a book written almost 3000 years ago, the writers and writing process of which are shady to say the least. Wars were waged, people were tortured and killed, nations were eradicated; all in the name of this 'holy ghost', and still they claim that God is forgiving and gentle lord." The ghoul gleams at the priest, who remains silent but has a smug smile over his face, and then continues: "Once you start to question things, and find out about them, the excuses expand. 'The lord works in a mysterious ways' they say. And like I said, it's a form of control. Much like how parents pose a control over their kids who still believe in Santa Claus. 'Be good', they say 'or you get no presents'" the ghoul waves his finger in the air as if to say, 'naughty, naughty'. "'Be bad, and you do not get any presents.' And it's the same with religion. 'Believe, and your sins are forgotten and you got to heaven', 'Do not believe, and you are punished.' Peoples minds are filled with this blind ignorance, and then the ones in charge, who well know the deceit in their form of operation, exploit those beliefs. Human mind is generally weak and comfortseeking. You are promised solace, and you go for it if you're desperate enough. Did you know, that before the old world was born, people thought ecliplses of the sun were cause by a malicious god, but further down it was proved that it was actually just the moon passing from between earth and the sun? Ah, never mind that, that's ancient history. But religion feeds from the despair and destruction of human mind. Some - like our good priest here", the ghoul points a finger at the priest, "say the great war was gods punishment for our sins and lack of belief. And it serves the religion to say this, because - to repeat myself - religion feeds from despair and destruction. The world used to be almost rid of superstition, science had proven most of it to be what it is. [censored]. But then we destroyed almost everything, and now it's all in the rise again. A fertile ground for religion to flourish was created once again. But I am not one sided with this. Any for form of obsession over what ever belief can be harmful. The mankinds strife over greater understanding of itself and its surroundings was what caused the great war in the first place. There was nothing to find out anymore, just refining what was already out there, and the planet was stripped dry. The intention surely was not to destroy everything, but the need to secure the means to keep going, is what did it. 'Curiosity killed the cat' says the old saying; but in our case, the cat had competition and means to destroy. We were greedy, and wanted it all, and we wanted it fast. So when the means started to run out, we erupted in a form of despair. Everyone wanted what was left, and because man strives from destruction as much as the religion strives from the aftermath, we caused something we could not control. Did you know that most of the greates human innovations were created because of war?"

"This may take a while" the priest says to the young mother, "it's a fascinating story, but a dull one. You should take a comfortable position and probably a nap."

The young mother is about to say something but she doesn't get a chance when the ghoul starts to speak again.

"Says the man believing in ghosts" the ghoul chuckles, "Now where was I, oh yes, most of the greatest innovations of man were creations of war either directly or indirectly. The typewriter, the radio, the radar, penicillin. Human kind has always excelled when it was about destroying one another. Think about it. The early human beings fought over pieces of meat and best 'nesting' places. Then one of the early beings discovered the use of tools. Warfare was immensly improved, and along with it, the quality of life. Man desire to destroy is the first and foremost fuel for his desire to create. But we went too far. We didn't understand what our actions would cause. And here's where the nature of human comes in; there was nothing to discover anymore, so we destroyed everything to once again be able to discover. It was unintentional on the conscious level, but our subconscious desires drove us to this. Man was never suppposed to progress beyond the dark ages - not the way we did. Then there's the nature. It has a tendency to balance things out. When ever an aspect becomes too dominant, the nature takes it out. Think about how dinosaurs were destroyed, think about the ice age, the black plaque, and now this great war. Nature isn't just the wildlife out there around us, it is also within us. Nature covers basically everything. See how in destroying everything, we've created something that never existed before. We now have insects and arachnids the size of a car. We have reptiles of the same size, we have multiheaded animals that defy the norm, and then we have the fungi in the forests near the Greenville. We have basically created a whole new ecosyste we can not yet control or predict. We can not destroy the profound, the life. We can only destroy the existing to create something new. We-"

The ghoul takes a pause and the young mother finally has a chance to open her mouth:
"What's a... Santa Claus."
The priest bursts out in furious laughter. "This is too much!" he coughs behind his unstoppable laughter.
The ghoul looks exhausted and flabbergasted. "Oh [censored]. It's of no use. We're in the dark ages again."
I crawl out from behind the boxes where I slept. "It's been..." I look around, both the priest and the ghoul, "...an interesting morning. Once again. By the way. Bob? Was it" I ask fromt he ghoul. "You have this strange contradiction to you that there is no higher power, but you insist on fate or nature dictating what is to come."

"No, you're wrong." ghoul-Bob says. "I believe in facts. I believe in history."
"Never mind that. But look" I point my finger up the road. "We're reaching the Legion border, there's the last outpost."
The caravan master comes to us and says: "Ok, folks" we're about leave Legion territory. The trek has been calm so far, but it may get a bit more rough up ahead."
"Tell me about it", the ghoul mutters to himself.
"What do you mean, 'rougher'?" the young mother asks with worry in her voice.
"It means we're at the mercy of nature" ghoul-Bob says.
The caravan master says: "Be calm and cooperative. The centurion might let us go without a bribe if we appear as firm Legion supporters."
"Nothing escapes corrupion. The further we get from the center, the higher it goes. There's no escape from human greed" ghoul-Bob mutter to himself again.
"But why didn't we go crosscountry if these legionnaires are to be fraid?" The you mother asks.
"Ma'am. I have business to run. My guards are probably enough to fend off the wildlife and raiders we're going to face, but I do not have the recources to manage those 'and' the legion in crosscountry tarveling. If we're lucky, they'll let us pass without compensation."
"Oh." The you mother seems baffeled. She's obviously traveled very little. "Bob?" she asks the ghoul, "Tell me about this 'Santa Claus'" she says.

Bob-the-ghoul frowns. "I've seen the previous world, I know of important historical events, I can, through calculations, roughly estimate what comes, and you want to hear about a superstitious figure that brings gifts at certain dates?"
"It calms me down. Please."
The ghoul-Bob shighs deeply. "Well okay. But you must promise me, no matter how good or well this sounds, you do no start to believe in it."
"I may be a vagrant, and I may be uneducated as you are, but I am not stupid." the young mother says.
Bob starts to explain Santa Claus to the young mother when the priest asks me: "Young man, are you a man of god? Can you, at least, be trusted?"
"Leave me alone" I say, "What I believe, is not of your concern."
"The god will recognize his own", the priest says and looks a bit annoyed, then turns away.
We steadily close the Legion camp and from a distance, I see the local Centurion takin his place at the middle of the road. We move on.