The continent itself was an enormity. Its immense ruddy desert allowed for little life, and that life which did survive was rendered twisted and cruel. Poison was the norm rather than the exception. The asphalt tendrils of civilization mattered little, merely connecting the few desperate humans who eked out a living on the fringes of their land. Why did they not flee, later historians would wonder. Did some enchantment hold them fast? Did none foresee their doom? Only the desert knows now.

So… this is like a Mad Max thing, or just a description of Australia as it is now?