We never considered why we did what we did, only that we were doing it because it led to a better tomorrow. Turns out that better tomorrow was the brightest spark right before the whole place goes pitch black. "Automate everything" - that was the dream. And we did, for a time. Crops grew and maintained themselves, sending an endless supply of sustenance to waiting coffers...never mind that excess molded and rotted away before we ever came close to using it all. Ores were shattered and crushed in an ever-growing cacophony of grinding and milling, ingots of precious metal overflowing barrels in every room as we stripped the ground bare.
It was subtle at first. Crops grew a little less each day, dwindling so unnoticeably that we gave no heed to the changes. The machines ran a little slower, processed a bit less, filling our once-overflowing storage with lesser and fewer ingots as time passed. The monsters outside, once easily-defeated and predictable, became more savage and bloodthirsty, the darkness becoming ever more predatory by the week.
And then one day...it all stopped. The machines that gave us life and riches ground to a halt as power faltered and resources dried up. We'd lived an ideal life so long that we never considered what to do if it shattered like glass around us.
Our people were unprepared, defenseless...and the night was hungry.
We fled across the endless expanse of barren, depleted wasteland that our economic empire had wrought, wondering how it had come to this as we left behind the blighted remains of our grand kingdoms. Our numbers became fewer every day, scores of the undead and legions of monsters beyond imagining flooding the surface and forcing us to hide lest we be consumed.
We vowed one day to return, to pick up the pieces of our shattered empire and learn from the mistakes of the fallen.
Today is that day. Soon, we will follow the sun into that endless horizon above.
--Yukiko Amagi, Grand Chronicler