Post by Darklady5 on Jan 31, 2013 16:51:27 GMT -5
Four days. It took four days for the world to end.
Day one was filled with words. Harsh syllables slapping between the members of the United Nations. Accusations. Incriminations. If anyone looked closely they could see the signs. The signs of their peace dissolving. The cracks building. But nobody, no matter how hard they looked, would have seen the result.
Day two... day two was filled with fire. Fire that swept through the streets, riding in small cylanders aboard birds born of fire, reflecting fire. Fire in mens hearts that fed and grew until there was no room for anything else. The flames of hate.
Day three was filled with rain. Rain that swept down our faces as we mourned what we had done, that swept through the streets again, but in a new shade of red, taking with it the wasted life we had thrown aside so casually.
There was nothing left on day four. Weapons wasted, our greatest warriors grief-stricken and crippled or else dead, we had no hope to protect from what happened next. Nobody really remembers what happened, though the oldest claim wild stories of avenging angels in the form of spheres of light fell to the earth in a wash of green and blue and yellow clouds that choked and strangled and like a wave washed over the land, felling great towers of steel and crushing people under its weight. But the closest claims are those who watched from afar, because those who fell under this supposed weight... those things are beyond reason now. Those are the 'waste-beasts' and the 'full-muti'. You can't talk to them.
Years passed and the Humi, who had hidden below ground and survived, cautiously moved above once more. The centuries had passed, and only a shortage of resources had pushed their numbers above. It was then they crossed paths with the Muti, and war unfolded once more. Muti and Humi fought viciously, until it was certain they would wipe one another out. Then a new threat arose. Full-muti were becomming a threat to both Muti and Humi alike. Some Humi banded with Muti, some refused. This was the birth of the factions as ideals split us once more. Muti who did not live amongst Humi discovered they became full-muti. But now, a new threat is arising. The factions war amongst eachother, but rumors rise. Will this new enemy be the end of all things? The final blow to our fragile existance? Or can we finally become as one, and not just survive... but live. Here, in whats left, The After Zone.
Day one was filled with words. Harsh syllables slapping between the members of the United Nations. Accusations. Incriminations. If anyone looked closely they could see the signs. The signs of their peace dissolving. The cracks building. But nobody, no matter how hard they looked, would have seen the result.
Day two... day two was filled with fire. Fire that swept through the streets, riding in small cylanders aboard birds born of fire, reflecting fire. Fire in mens hearts that fed and grew until there was no room for anything else. The flames of hate.
Day three was filled with rain. Rain that swept down our faces as we mourned what we had done, that swept through the streets again, but in a new shade of red, taking with it the wasted life we had thrown aside so casually.
There was nothing left on day four. Weapons wasted, our greatest warriors grief-stricken and crippled or else dead, we had no hope to protect from what happened next. Nobody really remembers what happened, though the oldest claim wild stories of avenging angels in the form of spheres of light fell to the earth in a wash of green and blue and yellow clouds that choked and strangled and like a wave washed over the land, felling great towers of steel and crushing people under its weight. But the closest claims are those who watched from afar, because those who fell under this supposed weight... those things are beyond reason now. Those are the 'waste-beasts' and the 'full-muti'. You can't talk to them.
Years passed and the Humi, who had hidden below ground and survived, cautiously moved above once more. The centuries had passed, and only a shortage of resources had pushed their numbers above. It was then they crossed paths with the Muti, and war unfolded once more. Muti and Humi fought viciously, until it was certain they would wipe one another out. Then a new threat arose. Full-muti were becomming a threat to both Muti and Humi alike. Some Humi banded with Muti, some refused. This was the birth of the factions as ideals split us once more. Muti who did not live amongst Humi discovered they became full-muti. But now, a new threat is arising. The factions war amongst eachother, but rumors rise. Will this new enemy be the end of all things? The final blow to our fragile existance? Or can we finally become as one, and not just survive... but live. Here, in whats left, The After Zone.