EXT. EARTH'S ORBIT

From afar, the Earth with a vast gray ring. The moon is pock-marked with gigantic black scorch marks and countless new craters, specked with evidence of annihilated cities.A dwindling trail of rock debris curves outward and into the ring. A view from within reveals that the ring is not simply geological: it is a vast gravitational assemblage of combat wreckage.

Vast numbers of destroyed orbital drones, the gutted-flesh insides of powered-armor mecha, burn carcasses of military and civilian transports. Cracked helmet visors and caved faces of artificial and organic soldiers of all affiliations: national servicemen, PMC mercenary squads and security forces, radical insurgents andrevolutionary fronts. Crumbled horizontal architectonic networks of massive, hyper-concentrated vertical cities in orbital elevators, communications antennae frozen in permanent anticipation. The suburbs, main streets, urban boulevards and shopping malls, all mass graves of gassed and charred civilians, mixed among them the dead remains of armed urban guerillas and soldiers. The vast linkages of informatic communication and control partially destroyed, the remainer left running by the dead.

Functioning satellites, many old, some conspicuously new-looking, maneuever alone in the post-industrial wastes. Brief jets of burning fuel ejaculate from their propulsion systems. Trash balletically deflects and splinters off from force fields.

POV - SPY SATELLITE

Death Valley, Arizona. The ground is mysteriously carved into a vast series of large, square paritions, in total spanning outwards for nearly a mile in every direction. Each pit is filled with something obscene.

EXT. DUMPING GROUNDS - DEATH VALLEY - MIDDAY

The ring faintly towers above in the sky. A near-defeaning BUZZING. In the pits, naked, rotting,  anthropic biomass, nearly-inscrutable piles of tangled, corrupted limbs, torsos, and organs growing out of each other, covered in flies. Hints of once-emerging faces can be seen: undeveloped eyes, cancerous protrusions of gum and teeth, random, deformed patches of hair.The pits are bordered by bright-crimson walkways with chromium safety rails.

At the corner of the grounds stands a small structure containing the top floor of the facility's manned interior, riddled with machine-gun fire and lined with desert sand. Inside lie the long-rotted, bullet-ridden carcasses of private security forces and industrial workers clad in hazmat suits. At the top lies the decayed corpse of a partisan guerilla clad in brown fatigues, impaled on what is left of a complex communications array. A discarded AK-47 augmented with broken gadgetry and a weathered red flag lie partially submerged in the sand directly beneath him.