The landscape unfolded like a haunting tapestry of desolation, where jagged silhouettes of crumbling skyscrapers pierced the cloudy sky, remnants of a once-thriving city now reduced to ruins. The air was thick with an eerie stillness, broken only by the distant echo of metal clashing and the faint whir of machines, remnants of Skynet's relentless pursuit. Rusted vehicles lay abandoned in the streets, their paint peeling and tires deflated, serving as ghostly reminders of humanity's past. Overhead, dark clouds loomed ominously, casting a pall over the scattered debris and shattered glass that littered the ground. In the distance, flickering fires danced among the rubble, illuminating the faces of weary survivors who scavenged for hope amid the chaos. The landscape was a testament to both destruction and resilience, where nature began to reclaim its territory—vines creeping through cracks in the concrete, and weeds sprouting defiantly from the ashes. It was a stark reminder of the war that had ravaged this world, a somber stage for the eternal struggle between man and machine, where every shadow held the potential of danger and every flicker of light hinted at a glimmer of hope.

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