20
Post by Digit on Jul 26, 2010 19:21:00 GMT -8
Ttile: The Black Star Theory: Quixotic Quantum
Background: Not much bg. Just a story. Here:
Work:
Prologue.
A world captivated by love, peace, happiness, and order; humans wanted to believe that this fragile idea lie inches away from their greedy hands, that they have found their perfect utopia at last. Plummeting out of a catastrophic Earth during World War V, where brothers turned against fathers and sisters killed mothers; people fought against their own kind wanting power and stability, each fondling their own interpretation of perfection. The world has decayed and its existence was ticking down the days of life. War-stricken ground and acidic air plagued the conditions of Earth's atmosphere; a place they couldn't stand to call home. Some things are better left unsaid, and in this instance, the case prevailed that humans couldn't face their own bitter truths; the single truth that they couldn't comprehend was their own doing for their fatal downfall. The signs were true; the world was ending. It was coming sooner than what they predicted, but it was right: there was an end of time. This punctual marking struck terror through every coursing vein living on this planet, yet many mistaken that it only referred to Earth. The end of time was only in mankind's universe. There was something beyond what humans have contemplated as the universe. Yes, it is true that there are other planets, but they didn't expect that only the third dimension was to be tragically scattered into a million little pieces.
Throughout history, scientists have explored the natures of the world. Humans were so naive to the idea of dimensions, but the signs lie before their eyes: mirrors, water, reflections, inverses, and black holes. Black holes, the absolution of nothingness in a never-ending abyss, incomprehensible to fathom without leading to an unwanted headache. Scientists knew that black holes were eating up the universe because of Entropy, but they didn't know where the black holes led to. They were hesitant to risk their lives to enter the black holes and explore what lies beyond the blackness; but there was always a possibility of being molecularly splattered into an oblivion of nonexistent pieces. But the decades passed swiftly and scientists used the proper technology to enter the eye of the abyss.
The Hex-septa dimension exists beyond the third dimension, right in between the sixth and seventh dimension where native creatures gained the ability to look around objects, no more of the nuisance of turning around. Beyond the black hole transport was a world slightly altered from the Earth that mankind has familiarized themselves with; this place was called Nowhere. This place was infinitely resourceful, nonetheless suspicious. Nowhere was a world of mysteries, unrevealed by humans who yet need to explore the depths of its nature. Basic laws applied to the third dimension universe were altered and scrambled in this dimension. Land structures were manipulated into floating islands against the black backdrop of the sky, and below was unseen to the human eye. Smoggy mist and smoke blanketed what exists below the islands. Above the horizon of Nowhere, the sky glowed gray by the radiance of an everlasting moon, called The Shadow. Shining in its brilliant hues and saturations, humans used this planet to queue the time of day. But the reflections of light cascaded past particles of mist, that light was altered into a fluorescent saturation, obscuring the intensity of their vision. There was something about the chemicals and elements that existed in Nowhere, giving this place its own life support. Scientists were quick to figuring out that Nowhere sourced a lot of natural resources and plants that existed on Earth, but nutrients and minerals in the soil consisted of unknown material; this was the conclusion of extraterrestrial and mutated organisms.
This didn't stop the humans; they always seemed to find a way. In no time, a kingdom, named In Particular, sprouted on one of the continents, allowing humans to claim a secure home that replicates the one they've once treasured back on Earth. A government, called Macro Synn, emerged to adhere order and peace within the walls of the kingdom. And just like that, as humanity sprouted into Nowhere, people flooded into this world to gain a taste of exhilaration and excitement; to be one with something unknown, something dangerous.
Certain creatures called Verans lurked the shadows of Nowhere, preying upon the humans. No evidence was found of what these creatures exactly did to feast upon flesh, but some have witnessed what they looked like, catching a quick glimpse before these monsters flashed in a blink to swipe a weakling into the abyss of darkness. Macro Synn deliberately responded with the actions of In Particular's Science and Research Lab.
Far off in the west wing, research of these creatures inhabiting Nowhere was hunted down and taken to the lab to explore their nature. In the beginning, their main focus was to record these creatures and understand their way of life so the humans could domesticate them; this was impossible. Nowhere's creatures were wild, immoral, and violent. After years of experimentation, scientists strayed away from the main focus and began to mess around with the creature's DNA, fusing it together with human stem cells. Immediately, their new experiment was to create chimeras of hybrid human and Veran DNA in attempt to enhance the population with the Veran's high quality traits. They wanted a population of Chimeras to emerge, thinking the human race would be better off if all weak traits of man kind were eliminated. Yet, they've failed to notice the increasing instability of Veran traits.
Razor sharp teeth glittered in the shadows of one of the quarantine centers. The slicers glided against its chapped lips, piercing the weak exterior to produce trickles of blood. The inhumane blood of a Chimera was a shiny metallic substance, flowing down the creature's chin with the viscosity of water. Its slivery tongue licked away at its blood, infesting its mouth with the taste of bitterness. Breathing in and out slowly, the thin nostrils not far above the mouth expanded and settled, like the notion of a wave swaying in and out from shore. The creatures chest rose and deceased and the faint clinking of chains ringed in unison of its respiration. Silence sliced straight through the room, killing off peace; its breathing stopped. Chest still, nostrils halted, golden dilated eyes peering through the darkness intently. It waited patiently.
KA-KLICK. The hatch unlocked, followed by a piercing squeak of the door hinges. Light peeked through the quarantine, until a switch clicked and high intensity of light flooded with the blink of an eye. The monster screeched in pain as its eyes blinked off and on. Readjusting its eyes, the black pupils shrinked back in displeasure. Its blurry vision straightened right away, and the sight of a scientist in a pure white coat approached it.
The scientist looked down upon the horrible bare sight. The monster consisted of scars and stitches, as if all the transgressions and sins in the world collaborated into a physical form, on the border of spilling out all its sorrow by one loose thread. Its leathery pale skin was on the verge of decaying for the Veran DNA clashed against the human's for the terse quality. Fully gazing upon this sight, one could claim this creature to be a woman, for its frail nature and feminine structure. Her jet black hair roughly cascaded over her face, veiling the stitching upon her cheeks, but her eyes would catch anyone's attention by a single hesitant glance. The scientist stepped forward with a syringe attached to a needle in his hand, projecting it forward, the chimera growled to warn him with the flash of her teeth. Its brilliance sparkled in the light; just one shred or bite it would take to catch a mouthful of salty blood. She would have ripped his face off with one sweep of her claws, but she was imprisoned within a set of cuffs. Without the proper diet and daily exercise, she was in no state to break through the metal and make a scene.
The needle lowered slowly and just before it penetrated the surface, the scientist sneered. He stabbed the needle into her arm and slowly dragged up her metallic blood. Growling and kicking, her face scrunched and her nostrils flared in anger. Her high pitch screams couldn't scare him away. Her temper tantrum took hold and she swung her arms about.
KLINK! The handcuff broke free, and just then, the scientist fell back in horror. His black eyes full of terror. She slashed her hand in the air, and in that slight second, she could see his life flash across his eyes.
Chapter I.
Background: Not much bg. Just a story. Here:
*these are some songs that inspired the plot for Quixotic Quantum. They are in no particular order according to the story*
Knife Party by Deftones
Change by Deftones
Hole in The Earth by Deftones
Diamond Eyes by Deftones
Fell Into Your Shoes by Chevelle
Roswell's Spell by Chevelle
Highland's Apparition by Chevelle
The Fad by Chevelle
Jars by Chevelle
Antisaint by Chevelle
Straight-Jacket Fashion by Chevelle
Sleep Apnea by Chevelle
Wake Up by Coheed and Cambria
Pearl of The Stars by Coheed and Cambria
Far by Coheed and Cambria
Here We Are Juggernaut by Coheed and Cambria
Welcome Home by Coheed and Cambria
The Suffering by Coheed and Cambria
Favor House Atlantic by Coheed and Cambria
33 by Coheed and Cambria
Made Out of Nothing by Coheed and Cambria
Time Consumer by Coheed and Cambria
Ten Speed of God's Blood by Coheed and Cambria
Guns of Summer by Coheed and Cambria
The Running Free by Coheed and Cambria
World of Lines by Coheed and Cambria
Justice in Murder by Coheed and Cambria
Feathers by Coheed and Cambria
*more to come*
Knife Party by Deftones
Change by Deftones
Hole in The Earth by Deftones
Diamond Eyes by Deftones
Fell Into Your Shoes by Chevelle
Roswell's Spell by Chevelle
Highland's Apparition by Chevelle
The Fad by Chevelle
Jars by Chevelle
Antisaint by Chevelle
Straight-Jacket Fashion by Chevelle
Sleep Apnea by Chevelle
Wake Up by Coheed and Cambria
Pearl of The Stars by Coheed and Cambria
Far by Coheed and Cambria
Here We Are Juggernaut by Coheed and Cambria
Welcome Home by Coheed and Cambria
The Suffering by Coheed and Cambria
Favor House Atlantic by Coheed and Cambria
33 by Coheed and Cambria
Made Out of Nothing by Coheed and Cambria
Time Consumer by Coheed and Cambria
Ten Speed of God's Blood by Coheed and Cambria
Guns of Summer by Coheed and Cambria
The Running Free by Coheed and Cambria
World of Lines by Coheed and Cambria
Justice in Murder by Coheed and Cambria
Feathers by Coheed and Cambria
*more to come*
Work:
Prologue.
A world captivated by love, peace, happiness, and order; humans wanted to believe that this fragile idea lie inches away from their greedy hands, that they have found their perfect utopia at last. Plummeting out of a catastrophic Earth during World War V, where brothers turned against fathers and sisters killed mothers; people fought against their own kind wanting power and stability, each fondling their own interpretation of perfection. The world has decayed and its existence was ticking down the days of life. War-stricken ground and acidic air plagued the conditions of Earth's atmosphere; a place they couldn't stand to call home. Some things are better left unsaid, and in this instance, the case prevailed that humans couldn't face their own bitter truths; the single truth that they couldn't comprehend was their own doing for their fatal downfall. The signs were true; the world was ending. It was coming sooner than what they predicted, but it was right: there was an end of time. This punctual marking struck terror through every coursing vein living on this planet, yet many mistaken that it only referred to Earth. The end of time was only in mankind's universe. There was something beyond what humans have contemplated as the universe. Yes, it is true that there are other planets, but they didn't expect that only the third dimension was to be tragically scattered into a million little pieces.
Throughout history, scientists have explored the natures of the world. Humans were so naive to the idea of dimensions, but the signs lie before their eyes: mirrors, water, reflections, inverses, and black holes. Black holes, the absolution of nothingness in a never-ending abyss, incomprehensible to fathom without leading to an unwanted headache. Scientists knew that black holes were eating up the universe because of Entropy, but they didn't know where the black holes led to. They were hesitant to risk their lives to enter the black holes and explore what lies beyond the blackness; but there was always a possibility of being molecularly splattered into an oblivion of nonexistent pieces. But the decades passed swiftly and scientists used the proper technology to enter the eye of the abyss.
The Hex-septa dimension exists beyond the third dimension, right in between the sixth and seventh dimension where native creatures gained the ability to look around objects, no more of the nuisance of turning around. Beyond the black hole transport was a world slightly altered from the Earth that mankind has familiarized themselves with; this place was called Nowhere. This place was infinitely resourceful, nonetheless suspicious. Nowhere was a world of mysteries, unrevealed by humans who yet need to explore the depths of its nature. Basic laws applied to the third dimension universe were altered and scrambled in this dimension. Land structures were manipulated into floating islands against the black backdrop of the sky, and below was unseen to the human eye. Smoggy mist and smoke blanketed what exists below the islands. Above the horizon of Nowhere, the sky glowed gray by the radiance of an everlasting moon, called The Shadow. Shining in its brilliant hues and saturations, humans used this planet to queue the time of day. But the reflections of light cascaded past particles of mist, that light was altered into a fluorescent saturation, obscuring the intensity of their vision. There was something about the chemicals and elements that existed in Nowhere, giving this place its own life support. Scientists were quick to figuring out that Nowhere sourced a lot of natural resources and plants that existed on Earth, but nutrients and minerals in the soil consisted of unknown material; this was the conclusion of extraterrestrial and mutated organisms.
This didn't stop the humans; they always seemed to find a way. In no time, a kingdom, named In Particular, sprouted on one of the continents, allowing humans to claim a secure home that replicates the one they've once treasured back on Earth. A government, called Macro Synn, emerged to adhere order and peace within the walls of the kingdom. And just like that, as humanity sprouted into Nowhere, people flooded into this world to gain a taste of exhilaration and excitement; to be one with something unknown, something dangerous.
Certain creatures called Verans lurked the shadows of Nowhere, preying upon the humans. No evidence was found of what these creatures exactly did to feast upon flesh, but some have witnessed what they looked like, catching a quick glimpse before these monsters flashed in a blink to swipe a weakling into the abyss of darkness. Macro Synn deliberately responded with the actions of In Particular's Science and Research Lab.
Far off in the west wing, research of these creatures inhabiting Nowhere was hunted down and taken to the lab to explore their nature. In the beginning, their main focus was to record these creatures and understand their way of life so the humans could domesticate them; this was impossible. Nowhere's creatures were wild, immoral, and violent. After years of experimentation, scientists strayed away from the main focus and began to mess around with the creature's DNA, fusing it together with human stem cells. Immediately, their new experiment was to create chimeras of hybrid human and Veran DNA in attempt to enhance the population with the Veran's high quality traits. They wanted a population of Chimeras to emerge, thinking the human race would be better off if all weak traits of man kind were eliminated. Yet, they've failed to notice the increasing instability of Veran traits.
Razor sharp teeth glittered in the shadows of one of the quarantine centers. The slicers glided against its chapped lips, piercing the weak exterior to produce trickles of blood. The inhumane blood of a Chimera was a shiny metallic substance, flowing down the creature's chin with the viscosity of water. Its slivery tongue licked away at its blood, infesting its mouth with the taste of bitterness. Breathing in and out slowly, the thin nostrils not far above the mouth expanded and settled, like the notion of a wave swaying in and out from shore. The creatures chest rose and deceased and the faint clinking of chains ringed in unison of its respiration. Silence sliced straight through the room, killing off peace; its breathing stopped. Chest still, nostrils halted, golden dilated eyes peering through the darkness intently. It waited patiently.
KA-KLICK. The hatch unlocked, followed by a piercing squeak of the door hinges. Light peeked through the quarantine, until a switch clicked and high intensity of light flooded with the blink of an eye. The monster screeched in pain as its eyes blinked off and on. Readjusting its eyes, the black pupils shrinked back in displeasure. Its blurry vision straightened right away, and the sight of a scientist in a pure white coat approached it.
The scientist looked down upon the horrible bare sight. The monster consisted of scars and stitches, as if all the transgressions and sins in the world collaborated into a physical form, on the border of spilling out all its sorrow by one loose thread. Its leathery pale skin was on the verge of decaying for the Veran DNA clashed against the human's for the terse quality. Fully gazing upon this sight, one could claim this creature to be a woman, for its frail nature and feminine structure. Her jet black hair roughly cascaded over her face, veiling the stitching upon her cheeks, but her eyes would catch anyone's attention by a single hesitant glance. The scientist stepped forward with a syringe attached to a needle in his hand, projecting it forward, the chimera growled to warn him with the flash of her teeth. Its brilliance sparkled in the light; just one shred or bite it would take to catch a mouthful of salty blood. She would have ripped his face off with one sweep of her claws, but she was imprisoned within a set of cuffs. Without the proper diet and daily exercise, she was in no state to break through the metal and make a scene.
The needle lowered slowly and just before it penetrated the surface, the scientist sneered. He stabbed the needle into her arm and slowly dragged up her metallic blood. Growling and kicking, her face scrunched and her nostrils flared in anger. Her high pitch screams couldn't scare him away. Her temper tantrum took hold and she swung her arms about.
KLINK! The handcuff broke free, and just then, the scientist fell back in horror. His black eyes full of terror. She slashed her hand in the air, and in that slight second, she could see his life flash across his eyes.
Chapter I.
The Legacy began in the hollows of an underground subway, deep beneath miles of bitter dirt. The core of Earth's sphere was manipulated into a headquarters; a station to be exact. Remaining humans that walked the cold corridors of its core wandered aimlessly on the dull cement, waiting for their chariot to heaven. The human population decreased dramatically since the unstable plates in the Earth's crust wiped out many continents. Now, human species exist in the measly number of 500,000; half of them swiped away to the hex-septa dimension. That was their final destination; their only goal left in existing in this world.
It seems that ever since this catastrophic event had occurred, society has turned their back upon their beliefs. Their words of wisdom were hushed, their chins lowered in pitiless dignity, and their thoughts too troubled for contemplation. It was quite ironic to witness such a hypocritical devastation overcast a large group of humans that claimed to be dominant species. But one thing was for sure, this was only temporary. Humans were known for their nature to corrupt under limitless power, and to plead mercy when life got merely tough. They were a hopeless species, wrangling their way through obstacles in life, cheating the corners of knowledge, peaking for answers about things they just couldn't understand. Now, it was like a terrible horror movie plot, waiting and watching for their death day to come, witnessing their idiotic failures, and anticipating to put them out of their misery. It just took time, almost ninety minutes too long.
As human morale and identity was lost in an oblivion of smoke, frail hope incessantly flickered on and off in a neon red and green. A glowing stoplight flashed repeatedly, reflecting its fluorescence upon the metallic transport orbs. Yes, it only took one orb ticket, a luggage, and an empty glass orb to swish away to another dimension. Once humanity settled down in Nowhere, they were quick to fixing up an orb station. Its platinum barriers, orb parkers, ticket booths replicated a mere train station. But, an orb transporter was much more special and advanced than a few box cars and a coal-operated engine. Orb transporters used fuel from the high radiation of the black holes, this allowing the glass to successfully pop into another dimension without facing the dilemmas of being warped into nothing.
Orb transportation being the only possible way to reach Nowhere, the halls and main entrances were filled with people who looked rather lost. Their lackadaisical movements dragged along in an orderly line, shuffling left and right, fidgeting back and forth. Whizzing past the winding pillars, many people awaited the approach of orb transporters. Anxious Eyes were focused on the dark tunnel, leading the way into obscurity. The escalating rails clanked along in unison, ushering the hopes of people into an unseen path. It was impossible to see where the path began and ended. A light breeze rushed past the terminal, fiddling through the mazes of people, and just as the red light blinked excitedly, the cold ground rattled in its shell. It was coming.
Awakening from the depths of its slumber, a fresh row of orb transporters grumbled on the track. The rails screeching against the platinum floorings and the neon blue flames brushing the platinum conveyor belt presented its superiority in translucent admirers awing. Lining up one by one, they halted, allowing the newly green light to cascade upon its exterior. People gazed in amazement of the crystal clear ornaments, then huddled around the conveyor belt to graze their fingers against its luminosity. The glass doors zoomed open and orb conductors rallied up passengers one by one. The rule was one person per orb because of its minimal space and the high risk in-take for large capacity orbs. After the hours of waiting and walking, the process proceeded nonchalantly. Exhausted from their own journeys and conditions, people robotically approached to get their turn.
"Next!" an old measly orb conductor, dressed in a uniform navy blue coat and felt hat, coughed beneath his gray whiskers. The next line of orbs appeared one after the other; the lines stepped up simultaneously, except a lagging footstep of a discrete young man. His black tethered dress shoes were off by one second, although it was the slightest movement, his mistake was precise compared to the rest. He didn't falter, but camouflaged into the meticulous crowd he has studied for the past few hours. Clearly he wasn't one of them. Their dispirited, grieving strive, weakened mind, impaired knowledge, and naive understanding sickened him. It was not that he deemed himself any higher than the minuscule position humans existed in, he just expected more in life. He had standards for himself; more like restrictions to keep himself straight. But to be accepted in this high-end society, he was merely a facade.
His gray eyes flashed green and red as the stop lights reflected upon his irises. He stared tentatively at the lights, noticing that it only took a single blink to order masses of armed forces to charge through the tunnel; it was brilliantly ordered and structured to obey discipline. Being an offspring of a nomadic counterculture group from the west lands of the former United States, he never understood what inner angst could implement such obedience to a hypocritical government; but this was something he has grown to not judge, let alone think about. He believed that humans couldn't judge one another without being testified as a pietist who does nothing but question his own nature unintentionally to ridicule others. No, there was no more energy for anyone to judge; people only accepted what was before them.
The next row of orbs slid through the black cave and the lines proceeded one step. Being the first in his line, his pressed hands in his trench coat shuffled through its contents. He found his ticket and citizen ID then placed it into the orb conductor's empty white, gloved hands. The conductor's gray whiskers twitched as he lifted the ID to the light for a better look. His brown eyes sitting behind a pair of spectacles narrowed at the man and shook his head.
"Please stand aside, sir," the conductor shoved the man to the side of the line and turned away from the line.
"What is the matter?" he asked the conductor lightly, figuring that there would be some kind of problem he would face on his way to Nowhere. The conductor lowered his chin, allowing the rim of his spectacles to slide to the tip of his bulbous nose.
"Roswell Lee?" the conductor held up the iD to his eye level and squinted in attempt to read the printed name on its plastic exterior. He peered up at the man's mysterious face features: the prominent nose bridge, stern eyebrows shielding his gray piercing eyes, rigid lips, and a blanketed shadow created by the black fedora hat tightly planted over his fawn colored locks.
"Mhmm…" a faint murmur passed through his tight lips as the man, Roswell, inspected the conductor's eyes. Just maybe, he could read the conductor's intentions through his glossy brown eyes.
"Macro Synn orders that all interns for In Particular's Science and Research Lab is to use IPSRL orbiters," he informed, tucking the ID back to Roswell. Flipping on a holographic transmitter, the conductor spoke through the radial dispatch as a blue light flickered up. The conductor muttered into the transmitter and turned his back away from him. Roswell stood there, glancing about at the lines slowly proceeding up until each person disappeared into an anonymous path. Curious eyes stared at Roswell's situation, but he shunned them away with a disgraceful glance at the ground. He never wanted to reveal a prodigious social level than the poor souls who suffered just to survive. Roswell had to face his own conditions as well, but he knew for a fact that others have endured a just as hard complication in life compared to his. Everyone had their own problems; he could see it in their eyes. When he glanced at saddened expressions of grief and sorrows, it was as if their whole life played across their pupils in a projected film. These pictures of hardship was the major factor in conveying their soddened faces they portrayed.
"Mr. Lee?" the conductor's white hand hovered over Roswell's shoulder, making him slightly jitter to the sudden awakening. He turned around to face the same conductor and a middle-aged plump man wearing a familiar uniform.
"I prefer to be called Roswell," he corrected the old man, but he didn't answer and just turned back to the line he once accompanied. The plump man was a clean cut ginger with a slight spark in his green eyes. With a welcoming large hand, the man led Roswell away from terminal eight.
"You are to be directed towards Section Twenty-one, where most workers of IPSRL meet their transportation," the man's deep voice tended to die quickly against the concrete walls. The plasma lights suffocated the air, and all sound were cut off in this narrow pathway. The terminal behind Roswell disappeared as they walked deeper into the hallway. At the very end of the hallway lied a steep staircase, sitting in the bask of a pulsating light bulb on the verge of dying out.
It seems that ever since this catastrophic event had occurred, society has turned their back upon their beliefs. Their words of wisdom were hushed, their chins lowered in pitiless dignity, and their thoughts too troubled for contemplation. It was quite ironic to witness such a hypocritical devastation overcast a large group of humans that claimed to be dominant species. But one thing was for sure, this was only temporary. Humans were known for their nature to corrupt under limitless power, and to plead mercy when life got merely tough. They were a hopeless species, wrangling their way through obstacles in life, cheating the corners of knowledge, peaking for answers about things they just couldn't understand. Now, it was like a terrible horror movie plot, waiting and watching for their death day to come, witnessing their idiotic failures, and anticipating to put them out of their misery. It just took time, almost ninety minutes too long.
As human morale and identity was lost in an oblivion of smoke, frail hope incessantly flickered on and off in a neon red and green. A glowing stoplight flashed repeatedly, reflecting its fluorescence upon the metallic transport orbs. Yes, it only took one orb ticket, a luggage, and an empty glass orb to swish away to another dimension. Once humanity settled down in Nowhere, they were quick to fixing up an orb station. Its platinum barriers, orb parkers, ticket booths replicated a mere train station. But, an orb transporter was much more special and advanced than a few box cars and a coal-operated engine. Orb transporters used fuel from the high radiation of the black holes, this allowing the glass to successfully pop into another dimension without facing the dilemmas of being warped into nothing.
Orb transportation being the only possible way to reach Nowhere, the halls and main entrances were filled with people who looked rather lost. Their lackadaisical movements dragged along in an orderly line, shuffling left and right, fidgeting back and forth. Whizzing past the winding pillars, many people awaited the approach of orb transporters. Anxious Eyes were focused on the dark tunnel, leading the way into obscurity. The escalating rails clanked along in unison, ushering the hopes of people into an unseen path. It was impossible to see where the path began and ended. A light breeze rushed past the terminal, fiddling through the mazes of people, and just as the red light blinked excitedly, the cold ground rattled in its shell. It was coming.
Awakening from the depths of its slumber, a fresh row of orb transporters grumbled on the track. The rails screeching against the platinum floorings and the neon blue flames brushing the platinum conveyor belt presented its superiority in translucent admirers awing. Lining up one by one, they halted, allowing the newly green light to cascade upon its exterior. People gazed in amazement of the crystal clear ornaments, then huddled around the conveyor belt to graze their fingers against its luminosity. The glass doors zoomed open and orb conductors rallied up passengers one by one. The rule was one person per orb because of its minimal space and the high risk in-take for large capacity orbs. After the hours of waiting and walking, the process proceeded nonchalantly. Exhausted from their own journeys and conditions, people robotically approached to get their turn.
"Next!" an old measly orb conductor, dressed in a uniform navy blue coat and felt hat, coughed beneath his gray whiskers. The next line of orbs appeared one after the other; the lines stepped up simultaneously, except a lagging footstep of a discrete young man. His black tethered dress shoes were off by one second, although it was the slightest movement, his mistake was precise compared to the rest. He didn't falter, but camouflaged into the meticulous crowd he has studied for the past few hours. Clearly he wasn't one of them. Their dispirited, grieving strive, weakened mind, impaired knowledge, and naive understanding sickened him. It was not that he deemed himself any higher than the minuscule position humans existed in, he just expected more in life. He had standards for himself; more like restrictions to keep himself straight. But to be accepted in this high-end society, he was merely a facade.
His gray eyes flashed green and red as the stop lights reflected upon his irises. He stared tentatively at the lights, noticing that it only took a single blink to order masses of armed forces to charge through the tunnel; it was brilliantly ordered and structured to obey discipline. Being an offspring of a nomadic counterculture group from the west lands of the former United States, he never understood what inner angst could implement such obedience to a hypocritical government; but this was something he has grown to not judge, let alone think about. He believed that humans couldn't judge one another without being testified as a pietist who does nothing but question his own nature unintentionally to ridicule others. No, there was no more energy for anyone to judge; people only accepted what was before them.
The next row of orbs slid through the black cave and the lines proceeded one step. Being the first in his line, his pressed hands in his trench coat shuffled through its contents. He found his ticket and citizen ID then placed it into the orb conductor's empty white, gloved hands. The conductor's gray whiskers twitched as he lifted the ID to the light for a better look. His brown eyes sitting behind a pair of spectacles narrowed at the man and shook his head.
"Please stand aside, sir," the conductor shoved the man to the side of the line and turned away from the line.
"What is the matter?" he asked the conductor lightly, figuring that there would be some kind of problem he would face on his way to Nowhere. The conductor lowered his chin, allowing the rim of his spectacles to slide to the tip of his bulbous nose.
"Roswell Lee?" the conductor held up the iD to his eye level and squinted in attempt to read the printed name on its plastic exterior. He peered up at the man's mysterious face features: the prominent nose bridge, stern eyebrows shielding his gray piercing eyes, rigid lips, and a blanketed shadow created by the black fedora hat tightly planted over his fawn colored locks.
"Mhmm…" a faint murmur passed through his tight lips as the man, Roswell, inspected the conductor's eyes. Just maybe, he could read the conductor's intentions through his glossy brown eyes.
"Macro Synn orders that all interns for In Particular's Science and Research Lab is to use IPSRL orbiters," he informed, tucking the ID back to Roswell. Flipping on a holographic transmitter, the conductor spoke through the radial dispatch as a blue light flickered up. The conductor muttered into the transmitter and turned his back away from him. Roswell stood there, glancing about at the lines slowly proceeding up until each person disappeared into an anonymous path. Curious eyes stared at Roswell's situation, but he shunned them away with a disgraceful glance at the ground. He never wanted to reveal a prodigious social level than the poor souls who suffered just to survive. Roswell had to face his own conditions as well, but he knew for a fact that others have endured a just as hard complication in life compared to his. Everyone had their own problems; he could see it in their eyes. When he glanced at saddened expressions of grief and sorrows, it was as if their whole life played across their pupils in a projected film. These pictures of hardship was the major factor in conveying their soddened faces they portrayed.
"Mr. Lee?" the conductor's white hand hovered over Roswell's shoulder, making him slightly jitter to the sudden awakening. He turned around to face the same conductor and a middle-aged plump man wearing a familiar uniform.
"I prefer to be called Roswell," he corrected the old man, but he didn't answer and just turned back to the line he once accompanied. The plump man was a clean cut ginger with a slight spark in his green eyes. With a welcoming large hand, the man led Roswell away from terminal eight.
"You are to be directed towards Section Twenty-one, where most workers of IPSRL meet their transportation," the man's deep voice tended to die quickly against the concrete walls. The plasma lights suffocated the air, and all sound were cut off in this narrow pathway. The terminal behind Roswell disappeared as they walked deeper into the hallway. At the very end of the hallway lied a steep staircase, sitting in the bask of a pulsating light bulb on the verge of dying out.
Roswell's nostrils flared in retaliation as the ventilated air of Section Twenty-One creeped into the crevices of his most sensitive senses. It wasn't the cool artificial air that was sending chills across his fingertips; it was the murder scene laying before his eyes. This murder was extra-ordinary; none like any other. It wasn't a bloody scene, with corpses splattered against the concrete and guts sprawled upon the ceiling; it was an ethical genocide. Vivacity was skinned alive from the exterior of their bodies, sanity decapitated with a slick razor, and their spirits curdling from their still, profound mouths. In result of this 'man-slaughter', doggedness and conformity crawled their way into these empty-shelled bodies like a parasite, feasting upon its host for existence. They were transformed into robots.
They spoke, they moved, they thought in unison. Was this truly what society has succumbed to? Has society finally faltered into an overpowering government? Roswell couldn't understand this; it was beyond what he had imagined. Upon contemplating his thoughts, he failed to realize the conductor, who led him, had said a few words to him. The man struggled to catch Roswell's uneasy glance about the terminal, until he woke up from his quixotic dream. Roswell stared deep into the man's eyes, reading his face of discontented neglection.
"What?" Roswell asked clueless, resulting in the man's defeated sigh.
"I said, line up over there," he pointed to a short line to the left "show your ticket and ID, then you're good to go."
"Thank you," Roswell nodded slightly and excused the conductor to leave through the hallway they once entered from. His curious eyes lingered upon the flickering lights that would dance to the beat of the rumbling terminal. The orb transporters were flowing in one by one onto the conveyor belt. As each person entered their individual orb, the glass door would slide close and a skirt of blue flames would ignite. The green light flashed on, followed by the clanking of the conveyor belt, erupting into motion.
He walked over to the diminishing line with his ticket and iD in hand. As he approached the line, he couldn’t help but notice a young girl standing at the end of the line. She was merely a child, yet she acted as if she knew the place inside and out along with the fact that she was all by herself, without a parent or guardian. Roswell trailed behind her and lowered his suitcase onto the floor with a thud. She looked back at him through the auburn locks veiling her black eyes. With a curious glance, she turned back to face the front of the line. Roswell inspected her every move, intrigued by something he couldn’t put his finger on.
The line shortened as trails of orbs came and went quickly. A meticulous conductor stood by the conveyor belt, nonchalantly checking tickets and observing the people. He had a particular interest in the girl Roswell stood behind. The conductor’s shiny eyes, lying behind a shady grin, shifted back and forth in an uneasy effort. The young girl was two people away from acquiring an orb, when she turned around towards Roswell. Her worrisome eyes gazed up at him.
“You can go ahead of me. You see, this is my first time… and… I’m a bit scared,” the girl’s delicate voice contemplated behind a conceiving intent, but Roswell pitied her. He nodded with a slight smile spreading across his face.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. Orb transportation is the safest transportation yet created by humans,” Roswell reasoned.
“You mean Macro Synn,” she corrected with a glint of pride shining at the corner of her eye. Roswell narrowed his eyes upon her, never understanding why humans would fall under such an anarchist power. After years and years of fighting for a democratic government equal throughout the nations, it was unbelievable to see all their efforts collapse into this power.
“Yes… Thank you,” his detached words choked off at the end. How depressing it was for him to see such an individualistically-looking girl turn out to be manipulated by the government at such a young age already. Her patented shoes clicked against the concrete as she stepped back, allowing him to go ahead. With his suitcase tightly clung to in his hand, he dragged his feet to the front of the line.
“Ticket and ID,” the conductor’s distorted voice cracked as a twisted smile curled upon his lips. Roswell took nothing of it oddly, but simply handed him his ID and ticket. The conductor inspected it shortly and handed back the ID.
“Your orb awaits, Doctor,” his white-gloved hands sprawled out towards the shiny orb sitting patiently before the two of them. Roswell nodded and walked into the vacant orb. The doors slid close and the buttons and lights glowed on all together. He looked out of the glass to see the girl happily watching him as if she awaited something to occur, but the conductor pulled her aside. The rest was unseen to him, for the transparent glass dimmed into a black tint. Everything went black, but he could feel the conveyor belt tremble beneath him as the orb was carried to the warp.
He sat snugly onto the metal chair, his only safety net if anything went wrong. But what was he thinking? Nothing was more safe than orb transportation. Why would he let a little childish thought, like the girl's, haunt him? As the orb carried him along, he couldn't tell which way he was going or if he had entered the black hole yet. But as his nerves began to diminish, a holographic screen flickered on. It was projected against the front view glass, now a black back-drop. There in the overplayed recording, standing calmly in the screen was a formally dressed woman. Her bright-eyed gaze and shining smile stared straight through him. He looked past her elaborately mechanized ruffle-collared blouse and excessively worn jewelry obtaining rare gems from the dimension of Nowhere. Instead, he intently watched the script hidden behind her hands at the bottom of the screen, apparently a failed attempt.
"Welcome, colleague of the In Particular Science and Research Lab. Guaranteed for your gratitude towards Majesty Crowell and Saym's blessings, we expect exceptional results from bright interns like you. Here in the beautiful kingdom of In Particular, nothing but happiness and fulfillment awes every heart of our citizens. The Macro Synn government desires nothing but Macro-ism, this embedding the goals toward achieving a position in the world where humans can tread the ground with triumph and pride without anything in its way. And to achieve this, all measures are not exempt to consideration. We must eliminate all interjecting elements that can stand in the way to achieve these far-fetched goals. There are no limitations, because as humans nothing is too far or too lowly for us. But, we cannot reach that goal without the dedication of the people itself. Therefore, we as humans need to work together to conform to a society where humans can be one with another, a society in which everyone is the same. This is what Macro-ism is aim towards. And with Macro-ism, we believe that the most impossible goals can be reachable. A utopia for mankind. We as humans are dominant, masters of all species. Conform to gain, Conform for power…." the woman's face disappeared after a flicker of the screen, and pictures appeared in place. Sceneries of an industrial kingdom surrounded by miles of cement walls. There were slides of the science research lab and its glory of size, then there were other pictures of the spotless city streets where examples of people in their society wandered the streets behind plastered smiles and forced happiness. He could see everything past the surface for what they were. He knew they couldn't be that happy. Roswell continued to watch the holographic pictures, awaiting to see a slight glimpse of the wilderness of Nowhere, where creatures prowled freely compared to the cooped up experiments in the IPSRL west wing and unknown elements lurked in suspicious spirits and magic. No, not once was a single picture shown of the world outside those cemented walls.
"You will now be entering the black warp zone. There is a warning for a high radiation in the black holes, but with these stable orb transporters there is no harm of getting molecularly scrambled. Please, hang onto the side rails on the right and left walls of your orb transporter. Thank you and have a safe trip-" the screen shut down and a glowing blue light flickered above him.
The rumbling of the orb erupted beneath him as it fell off its conveyor belt, thrashing him against the wall. He held on tightly to the rails on the wall and held in his breath as his stomach tossed and turned from the elevation and free fall. The orb was falling at an emaculate rate into the black hole below. But it wasn't until meters within the black hole that the orb transporter could stabilize and successfully be sucked through to the hex-septa dimension.
Roswell hung on patiently, counting down the seconds, for he knew that it only took a minimal amount of time to stabilize. Something went wrong in his calculations; the orb transporter wasn't stabilizing. It continued to rock back and forth as if crashing against walls in a small room. He felt out of place, almost like he was on the wrong track of some sort. Fumbling around in the small orb, he banged his head against the roof as the orb somersaulted a couple times. Then the lights killed. The holographic screen flickered on and off in a fuzzy array of confusion. He cringed in pain from his aching head; he could almost feel a stinging from an open wound, hot liquid slowly leaking down the side of his forehead. He was held speechless from his pain-stricken groans as the woman reappeared on the screen. The recording was jumbled into a mass of nonsense. The words of her previous introduction fumbled in static noise.
"Welc-c-c- t-t-yyyy. Citizzz… Fzzzz…Bzzzz… Grrrr. El-im-im-im--" her words choked in every other syllable. The orb continued to shake and crash and swirl. Froooooommm…..A leaking sound caught Roswell's attention. The sound of winds from outside were cackling through a tight little crack at the top of the orb's glass. How could this possibly happen? Orb transportation is the safest transportation out there. Pressing his body against the farthest end from where the crack leaked, he attempted to stay away as far as possible.
"Co-Co-C-C-oonform t-to guh-guh-ai-ai-in. Cooooon-f-form f-f-for pow-pow-eeeer," the woman repeated. Roswell fists shook in anger, what an ironic situation he was placed into.
"Conform to gain, Conform for power," zzziiiip! she rewinded "Conform to gain, Conform for power."
"Conform to gain, Conform for power. Conform to gain, Conform for power. Conform to gain, Conform for power. Conform for gain, Conform for power…"
"Aggghhh…" he finally let out his breath, caving into the chaotic noise. He cupped his hands over his ears and curled up in retaliation. The noise, the heat, the pain. The noise repeated over and over with the single words he had despised his entire life. The curdling pain he couldn't endure from the single element of a burning heat. Every five seconds the orb would tumble back and forth from ninety to a full three-sixty degree revolution. He tossed and turned in his orb, searching for some kind of security. There were none, for orb transportation was the safest transportation.
"Conform to gain, Conform for power. Conform to gain, Conform for power…"
They spoke, they moved, they thought in unison. Was this truly what society has succumbed to? Has society finally faltered into an overpowering government? Roswell couldn't understand this; it was beyond what he had imagined. Upon contemplating his thoughts, he failed to realize the conductor, who led him, had said a few words to him. The man struggled to catch Roswell's uneasy glance about the terminal, until he woke up from his quixotic dream. Roswell stared deep into the man's eyes, reading his face of discontented neglection.
"What?" Roswell asked clueless, resulting in the man's defeated sigh.
"I said, line up over there," he pointed to a short line to the left "show your ticket and ID, then you're good to go."
"Thank you," Roswell nodded slightly and excused the conductor to leave through the hallway they once entered from. His curious eyes lingered upon the flickering lights that would dance to the beat of the rumbling terminal. The orb transporters were flowing in one by one onto the conveyor belt. As each person entered their individual orb, the glass door would slide close and a skirt of blue flames would ignite. The green light flashed on, followed by the clanking of the conveyor belt, erupting into motion.
He walked over to the diminishing line with his ticket and iD in hand. As he approached the line, he couldn’t help but notice a young girl standing at the end of the line. She was merely a child, yet she acted as if she knew the place inside and out along with the fact that she was all by herself, without a parent or guardian. Roswell trailed behind her and lowered his suitcase onto the floor with a thud. She looked back at him through the auburn locks veiling her black eyes. With a curious glance, she turned back to face the front of the line. Roswell inspected her every move, intrigued by something he couldn’t put his finger on.
The line shortened as trails of orbs came and went quickly. A meticulous conductor stood by the conveyor belt, nonchalantly checking tickets and observing the people. He had a particular interest in the girl Roswell stood behind. The conductor’s shiny eyes, lying behind a shady grin, shifted back and forth in an uneasy effort. The young girl was two people away from acquiring an orb, when she turned around towards Roswell. Her worrisome eyes gazed up at him.
“You can go ahead of me. You see, this is my first time… and… I’m a bit scared,” the girl’s delicate voice contemplated behind a conceiving intent, but Roswell pitied her. He nodded with a slight smile spreading across his face.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. Orb transportation is the safest transportation yet created by humans,” Roswell reasoned.
“You mean Macro Synn,” she corrected with a glint of pride shining at the corner of her eye. Roswell narrowed his eyes upon her, never understanding why humans would fall under such an anarchist power. After years and years of fighting for a democratic government equal throughout the nations, it was unbelievable to see all their efforts collapse into this power.
“Yes… Thank you,” his detached words choked off at the end. How depressing it was for him to see such an individualistically-looking girl turn out to be manipulated by the government at such a young age already. Her patented shoes clicked against the concrete as she stepped back, allowing him to go ahead. With his suitcase tightly clung to in his hand, he dragged his feet to the front of the line.
“Ticket and ID,” the conductor’s distorted voice cracked as a twisted smile curled upon his lips. Roswell took nothing of it oddly, but simply handed him his ID and ticket. The conductor inspected it shortly and handed back the ID.
“Your orb awaits, Doctor,” his white-gloved hands sprawled out towards the shiny orb sitting patiently before the two of them. Roswell nodded and walked into the vacant orb. The doors slid close and the buttons and lights glowed on all together. He looked out of the glass to see the girl happily watching him as if she awaited something to occur, but the conductor pulled her aside. The rest was unseen to him, for the transparent glass dimmed into a black tint. Everything went black, but he could feel the conveyor belt tremble beneath him as the orb was carried to the warp.
He sat snugly onto the metal chair, his only safety net if anything went wrong. But what was he thinking? Nothing was more safe than orb transportation. Why would he let a little childish thought, like the girl's, haunt him? As the orb carried him along, he couldn't tell which way he was going or if he had entered the black hole yet. But as his nerves began to diminish, a holographic screen flickered on. It was projected against the front view glass, now a black back-drop. There in the overplayed recording, standing calmly in the screen was a formally dressed woman. Her bright-eyed gaze and shining smile stared straight through him. He looked past her elaborately mechanized ruffle-collared blouse and excessively worn jewelry obtaining rare gems from the dimension of Nowhere. Instead, he intently watched the script hidden behind her hands at the bottom of the screen, apparently a failed attempt.
"Welcome, colleague of the In Particular Science and Research Lab. Guaranteed for your gratitude towards Majesty Crowell and Saym's blessings, we expect exceptional results from bright interns like you. Here in the beautiful kingdom of In Particular, nothing but happiness and fulfillment awes every heart of our citizens. The Macro Synn government desires nothing but Macro-ism, this embedding the goals toward achieving a position in the world where humans can tread the ground with triumph and pride without anything in its way. And to achieve this, all measures are not exempt to consideration. We must eliminate all interjecting elements that can stand in the way to achieve these far-fetched goals. There are no limitations, because as humans nothing is too far or too lowly for us. But, we cannot reach that goal without the dedication of the people itself. Therefore, we as humans need to work together to conform to a society where humans can be one with another, a society in which everyone is the same. This is what Macro-ism is aim towards. And with Macro-ism, we believe that the most impossible goals can be reachable. A utopia for mankind. We as humans are dominant, masters of all species. Conform to gain, Conform for power…." the woman's face disappeared after a flicker of the screen, and pictures appeared in place. Sceneries of an industrial kingdom surrounded by miles of cement walls. There were slides of the science research lab and its glory of size, then there were other pictures of the spotless city streets where examples of people in their society wandered the streets behind plastered smiles and forced happiness. He could see everything past the surface for what they were. He knew they couldn't be that happy. Roswell continued to watch the holographic pictures, awaiting to see a slight glimpse of the wilderness of Nowhere, where creatures prowled freely compared to the cooped up experiments in the IPSRL west wing and unknown elements lurked in suspicious spirits and magic. No, not once was a single picture shown of the world outside those cemented walls.
"You will now be entering the black warp zone. There is a warning for a high radiation in the black holes, but with these stable orb transporters there is no harm of getting molecularly scrambled. Please, hang onto the side rails on the right and left walls of your orb transporter. Thank you and have a safe trip-" the screen shut down and a glowing blue light flickered above him.
The rumbling of the orb erupted beneath him as it fell off its conveyor belt, thrashing him against the wall. He held on tightly to the rails on the wall and held in his breath as his stomach tossed and turned from the elevation and free fall. The orb was falling at an emaculate rate into the black hole below. But it wasn't until meters within the black hole that the orb transporter could stabilize and successfully be sucked through to the hex-septa dimension.
Roswell hung on patiently, counting down the seconds, for he knew that it only took a minimal amount of time to stabilize. Something went wrong in his calculations; the orb transporter wasn't stabilizing. It continued to rock back and forth as if crashing against walls in a small room. He felt out of place, almost like he was on the wrong track of some sort. Fumbling around in the small orb, he banged his head against the roof as the orb somersaulted a couple times. Then the lights killed. The holographic screen flickered on and off in a fuzzy array of confusion. He cringed in pain from his aching head; he could almost feel a stinging from an open wound, hot liquid slowly leaking down the side of his forehead. He was held speechless from his pain-stricken groans as the woman reappeared on the screen. The recording was jumbled into a mass of nonsense. The words of her previous introduction fumbled in static noise.
"Welc-c-c- t-t-yyyy. Citizzz… Fzzzz…Bzzzz… Grrrr. El-im-im-im--" her words choked in every other syllable. The orb continued to shake and crash and swirl. Froooooommm…..A leaking sound caught Roswell's attention. The sound of winds from outside were cackling through a tight little crack at the top of the orb's glass. How could this possibly happen? Orb transportation is the safest transportation out there. Pressing his body against the farthest end from where the crack leaked, he attempted to stay away as far as possible.
"Co-Co-C-C-oonform t-to guh-guh-ai-ai-in. Cooooon-f-form f-f-for pow-pow-eeeer," the woman repeated. Roswell fists shook in anger, what an ironic situation he was placed into.
"Conform to gain, Conform for power," zzziiiip! she rewinded "Conform to gain, Conform for power."
"Conform to gain, Conform for power. Conform to gain, Conform for power. Conform to gain, Conform for power. Conform for gain, Conform for power…"
"Aggghhh…" he finally let out his breath, caving into the chaotic noise. He cupped his hands over his ears and curled up in retaliation. The noise, the heat, the pain. The noise repeated over and over with the single words he had despised his entire life. The curdling pain he couldn't endure from the single element of a burning heat. Every five seconds the orb would tumble back and forth from ninety to a full three-sixty degree revolution. He tossed and turned in his orb, searching for some kind of security. There were none, for orb transportation was the safest transportation.
"Conform to gain, Conform for power. Conform to gain, Conform for power…"
10!
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