I have had this idea for a while, and while this _is_ rough, I don't know
when I'll be back online..plz C&C.
Act 1: "O, Brave New World"(666x4=2664)
The sky. It's so gray. It's always gray, like the city, a large,
metallic, thorn in Gaia's side, has drained all the life and warmth from
the heavens as well as the earth. But, How am I to know of that? All we
know is what we are taught, of the times the sky was blue and cloudless
and bright. Of the times the Animates and Mundanes were equal, that anime
was an art form, of all things. Those times are far from the year 2664.I
lose myself so many times in the past. Or at least my colleagues say I
do. I don't know why. But then, many things confuse me in this year of
2664. Not the least of which the Holocaust we have declared. I know much
of the past. If the Squads knew that I had such information on our
history, I would be wiped. But why would I care? Perhaps it is better to
have such memories which cause me to foolishly believe such preposterous
notions like that life could be better, the Animates are our friends,
that I could 'make a difference', to be wiped so that I could focus on my
work, and love God always, like I should. But I am getting ahead of
myself, even as I reminisce about the past while getting ready for
work.Perhaps I do lose myself as much as I am told I do.After the last
Impact, Mankind created a new "Manifest Destiny"- to go out among the
stars and conquer and rule, as Christ would want his children to do, in
His name(that whole 'separation of church and state' mentality had
obviously been one of the major causes of the last Impact). And why not,
really? It has been done before. Instead of drawing crosses on our
shields and sacrificing lambs, we laser-etch crosses on our military
crests, and sacrifice all those who oppose us. Besides, the war has
become a national sport. Live video feeds of battles always get high
ratings, and even higher profits for whatever advertisements that got
through the censorship board- not to mention that one could make a living
off the gambling industry alone.However, there was one thing in the way.
Actually, two. The Advanced Humans, nicknamed Animates for their
appearance and culture, were considered an abomination, and Anime(a very
broad term, at this point) were outlawed as unnatural, pornographic,
stimulants which promoted the Animate lifestyle, which itself had been
called unnatural and pornographic. All Animates must now be 'processed'.
Many are never seen again. Some are taken as slaves(though I hear prices
are up since a couple seasons back for teenage girls), some are
'reconditioned' and put on the battle field. No one knows exactly what
happens to all of them; no one cares. They are just glad to be safe from
such (quote, unquote)'perverse, violent, freaks of nature'.
Sometimes, I can gather my courage and hate them, hate them for the sins
of the world, but I always feel guilty afterwards, like I've done
something wrong.I feel like an alien whenever I try to see our world
with an open mind, like I'm some kind of freak compared to everyone else.
I guess I am a freak. I guess that's the price I pay, to see the world as
it really is. I board the 'magbus. I can hear the helicopters flying,
the security 'mechs patrolling the street, the endless marching of the
Squads, even here. Others are used to it. After all these years, I still
do not. I look out the window; a Squad leader has found two Animate
refugees; an asian, dark-haired man and a young pink-haired girl with an
unusual hairstyle. My heartbeat begins to accelerate as I find myself
unable to turn away. The graysuit[graysuit: popular term for Coalition
National Squad members when in normal uniform] looks at the man with an
expression of contempt and revulsion as he asks him for his papers. Then
he sees the little girl, and his face suddenly turns into a predatory
smile. I still can't look away, no matter how much I want to. Graysuits
are the worst, because they're bitter from not being accepted into the
military and becoming heroes, and have the tedious task of policing the
streets and taking care of "The Animate Problem." These men are far from
a final solution. I now believe they vent their frustrations on their
quarries.They drag the two out of the car. The leader graysuit says
something(I can't hear what) and then grins in a feral way, which looks
quite ugly on his bloated, meaty, face. One of his subordinates points a
large gun[like (DominionTankPolice)Leona's] and fires it, point blank, at
the unsuspecting man, who couldn't have been much older than I was. A
gutshot, I believe the term is. He explodes in a shower of blood, his
steaming entrails falling out as he collapses. Even now, the troops are
grabbing the girl and pushing her up against the wall. As she feebly
tries to fight back, her hair flies in the air and I could almost swear
it looks like a bunny's ears, a great big bunny. My stomach hurts, all of
a sudden.
I finally tear myself away from the window, and have to repeat to myself
it's only an Animate, Animates are beneath us! Why do I feel this way?!
They are our creations, right? They deserve what coming to them!!!What's
wrong with me?
Next Time: Act 2: People of the Sun
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