The First World was up above in the sun.
We were the Second World.
If one was born defective,
one was cast below.
We lived to serve our masters in the sun,
cleaning their sewers, feeding the fires of their machines.
We had revolted many times,
but were always cast back down.
We found a virus in the deep dark depths.
One that could survive the fires and kill the First World.
We put the virus into the great furnaces.
When all the master were dead, we walked into the sun.
(Song lyrics? A one page comic? Perhaps both? A collaboration?)