Apocalypse

The Supreme Leaders Chamber:

Pain, death, decay, annihilation - what fuels and plagues the human condition. From the onset of the war there was never going to be a victor. All factions involved wanted to seek total power, no pulling punches, no regret. Continental countries, neighbors by deposition, banded together and formed alliances in hope that they could become the supreme overloads of the now barren earth. Their fool's war was never about a lack of resources, it was about absolute power. Some countries never wanted the war, they simply reacted.

What would you do when your beloved country was riddled to death by bombs from far off lands? Stand idle or galvanize your people and fight back? And what would you do when oppressed all your life and stripped to your bare bones, now granted the opportunity to retaliate against those who despised and abused you. Sparked by radical, red-eyed leaders who filled your head with hate and your hands with lead. Sharpened and directed your hate against people now called your oppressors. Would you stand idle or galvanize your brothers and sisters to arms and fight the people who left your land barren? The Alkebulan Federation was born from the later. The African continent eventually banded together by common hate towards the people that left their worlds barren.

Although the Alkebulan Federation started the war, they were far from winning it. Families now forced underground and pinned down by bombshells, huddled together to protect them from above as more wicked deviation began below them.

I hadn't but a few things to do when freed from civilization, so I found a weird sense of joy from watching these Lost Civilization recordings. In particular, this one. However, if I was being completely honest, I would say it scared me. It reminded me about how if left to our device's humans had the ability of concocting evil, thought absolutely gripped me in a manner that made me excited. Soon the recording began.

In a bunker, far underneath earths scorched crust, an elevator door slid open and there he walked out. Alkebula's last hope to win the war. He briskly walked into the room and the camera focused on him. He wore the look of a brave young man fueled to his brim with a divine sense of justice and calling. He stood in front of the camera in an oval-shaped room with plaque covered weathered-white walls. Black-idle LED poles stood to his left and right. In front of him stood a panel with two rods protruding out. The huge room held nothing but silence until a voice spoke through the PA system.

"I believe you know why you're here today?" The disembodied voice said. The boy nodded.

"Good, the camera in front of you is for information gathering purposes for the meta-human trial division 1 number 13."

The boy instinctively reached for his neck and brushed his thumb over a pendant that had the face of an old woman before saying,

"I'm ready to become the instrument of their destruction."

"That's the spirit. Let's begin, shall we?"

He makes his way to the panel and grips the rods. A sharp mechanical whir echoes, followed by his body cramping up. The poles to his sides began their calculated start up sequence. They slowly cascaded from one pole to another, lighting up his sides before flowing down behind him. He held a stoic grimace at this point, obviously feeling pain, he stood tall and on cue, the poles began speeding up. Tapering away from him faster and faster as the level of pure energy being shot straight into his body increased. Despite that, for some reason, he stayed steadfast. His body, not only pinned down by his firm legs splayed apart but by a strong belief in something or someone, stayed firm. Perhaps it was in believing he could be the weapon to end all future wars, or the blinding white fuel of revenge for a loved one taken from him by this godforsaken war, maybe a mother. Whatever the reason, it kept him standing wave after wave of pure nuclear energy being siphoned into him.

The room began to shake and pressure pipes began exploding and falling from the roof, the scientists could only watch in awe as their catalyst for destruction went into the pains of labor – ready to birth their world buster, their apocalypse. His eyes, igniting like spark plugs, began to flicker before slowly turning pure white. At this point the light poles began to blow row after row followed by the lights of the room. The room, now encompassed in darkness, had only the light from the blinding white rods, who the boy still fiercely death gripped, and his glowing eyes. Suddenly, in a frightening display, his head burst into flames. Eerily and equally white as well. Soon gritted teeth parted into an empty scream prompting the emergency siren to blare and the room to be purged into crimson red. The screen goes black, and the words end of tape float on the screen. I lean back into my seat and wait a beat before starting the tape over again. Fueled by the desire for power and control.

On a field, Amidst the trees, A gentle breeze, whispers through the leaves, And the world, seems at perfect ease. The birds again, And the grass below, of nature's chance. The sky is white, The sun is warm, a brilliant light, And all around, there's peace and calm, A soothing balm, in a world so fraught with harm. In this place, where beauty reigns supreme, There's no need for struggle, no need to dream, For in this moment, everything is right, And the world, is bathed in pure delight.

I start the tape over again, The recording flickered on the screen, casting an eerie glow. Pain, death, decay, annihilation - the all-too-familiar facets of the human condition. I repeat to myself; the war was never going to end, the war was never going to end.