I am Clovis la Britannia, and I'm here to ask you a question. Is a man not entitled to the sweat of his brow? 'No!' says the man in Australia, 'It belongs to the poor.' 'No!' says the man in Kyoto, 'It belongs to God.' 'No!' says the man in Russia, 'It belongs to everyone.' I rejected those answers; instead, I chose something different. I chose the impossible. I chose... Area 11, a city where the artist would fear the censor, where the scientist would not be bound by petty morality, Where the great would not be constrained by the small! And with the sweat of your brow, Area 11 can become your city as well.