[WP] Humans once wielded formidable magical power but with over 7 billion of us on the planet now Mana has spread far to thinly to have any effect. When hostile aliens reduces humanity to a mere fraction the survivors discover an old power has begun to reawaken once again.



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7 Dec 2017 12:39 - +4003
Part 1 | [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/jraywang/comments/7i53fr/reaper_part_2/) --- I wouldn’t call it a war. Extermination maybe. Though I’d more aptly describe it as a harvest. By the time they reached our world and penetrated the stratosphere, people sought them out in droves to be harvested. Of course, they knew what that actually meant. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have been so eager. Ten years before the *Angels* descended from the sky, they had already sent what some referred to as divine retribution: a virus. Though this virus in particular only targeted women. It spread faster than a wildfire and had a 100% mortality rate. Worse yet, it was completely undetectable. In our desperation, we became animals. We locked our wives, daughters, and mothers deep underground under the constant shine of UV radiation and still they got infected. Within five years, the last woman had died leaving the rest of humanity to slowly die with her. By the time they arrived, we welcomed them with open arms into every one of our major cities. Most bowed their heads and practically begged to be killed. Some fought against them. These were the ones that still remembered the pain of watching their daughters, wives, and mothers die. They couldn’t hope to survive, but at least they could enact their own version of divine retribution. Looking back at it now, I know that the *Angels* planned for them. They wanted us to retaliate. Otherwise, where would be the fun? Men charged at them by the millions. Some to die. Some to kill. To the *Angels*, it was all the same. Until we killed the first one. Back when I used to write, I always made sure to name my hero something memorable. If not a strange name, then certainly a strange title. Evan the Incorruptible. Matthew the Harbinger. But in real life, heroes rarely have titles, some don’t even have names. That was the case for humanity’s last hero because nobody knew who he was. We had only stories. The stories ranged from fantastical to downright fiction, but they always ended the same. We had killed one. The *Angels* must’ve been as skeptical as we were because they refused to change their tactics. They kept all our major cities and welcomed anyone to try and take it back. By the fifth dead *Angel*, they learned of their miscalculation. Soon, we learned of it as well. Human beings shared mana and with it, we could do wondrous or terrible things. Magic no longer belonged to the realm of fiction. The elements bent to our will. Lightning struck where we pointed, tornados formed where we stood, the ground swallowed up entire cities as we willed it. Suddenly, men stopped volunteering to be harvested. With their newfound power, they decided to fight back, even if victory had already been stolen from us. They had turned us into animals and then backed us into a corner. Foolish. And that was good enough for us. Looking back, I wonder if we were as foolish as the *Angels*. We, who were content with dying in our little blazes of glory, having accomplished nothing but thinning their ranks by just a bit. It was selfish, but what is there to expect from men who had nothing else to live for? None of us had the vision you had. The vision you have. --- --- Tyler put the pen down, staring at the word *you*. He wondered if his letter would ever find its way to this certain *you*. While humanity had become animals, one man had gone even further. He had been called a monster by both *Angel* and man. Nobody knew which side he fought for, only that he killed both indiscriminately. If Tyler were to write his story, he wouldn’t know whether to make this man the villain or the hero. Oh how he wished he could’ve written this story, but the only way this story continued was if he died. Beside his letter and pen, sitting at the edge of his wooden table was a silver revolver. The single lightbulb above him glinted off its barrel. A small grin spread across Tyler’s face. He grabbed the gun, its metal like ice, and pressed it to his temple. Enough humans had died where he could stop the bullet with only his thoughts. The bullet couldn’t even hurt him unless he wanted it to. But he did. For the sake of humanity, he needed the bullet to kill him. With his free hand, he picked the pen back up. --- --- As the last storyteller on Earth, I bestow you the title of Reaper. A monster. A villain. Our last hero. Go forth, Reaper, my death as an offering. With my passing, there will be only four humans left. I have already contacted two of them and they will die with me. The last I’m sure you will easily find as your powers will have increased two-fold. By then, your mind will stretch the globe, perhaps even the stars. And when you become the last human alive, I cannot even fathom how powerful you will be. Show our *Angels* how fragile they are in the face of a god. --- --- Tyler pulled the trigger. --- /r/jraywang --- Part 1 | [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/jraywang/comments/7i53fr/reaper_part_2/)
7 Dec 2017 12:34 - +289
I awoke in the night, the distant sounds of screams altogether too familiar. It didn't sound isolated - they must have found a safe-haven. Hundreds would be massacred. It was just like I said; don't bunch together. Don't rely on each other for support. Survival is all about laying low, keeping quiet and hoping that luck was on your side. I'd been having a strange dream. It wasn't a nightmare, which was rare already; it was more of a premonition. I'd felt a burning sensation in my hand, as if there were energy coursing through it. The feeling still stuck with me, and I focused on it to try drown out the screams. ******** There were more of them now; towering beasts, eldritch monstrosities. We'd imagined aliens as these advanced beings, visiting us with technology that we could not even comprehend, bestowing knowledge and gifts. But no. They were unimaginable nightmares, drifting in through space, landing on our forsaken planet and hunting us mercilessly. Our combined efforts only took down a few, and the ensuing nuclear winter only made things worse. And now they hunt us down without rest. It doesn't seem to be for sustenance - they ignore other animals, though they will harm them if it is in their way. No; it feels like eradication. And more come every day. But the the dreams won't go away. What little sleep I have is filled with feelings of flame and fury; of ominous premonition, of terrifying power. I feel that energy more and more. I suspect that I am going mad, but I'd rather be mad than dead. And judging by my travels, it seems that I am one of the few left with the privilege of choice. Sleep comes to me eventually, the incessant chittering of the aliens filtering through my dreams of intrigue, of primal power. ***** I awoke to a sound of crashing, of beastly lumbering. *I've been found.* I sprinted from my lair, a crumbling ruin, just as a jagged tentacle pierced through the foundations. Rubble collapsed around me as I leapt through a window, landing on the floor below in a clumsy roll. There was no time to think about the pain - only escape. I ran as fast as I could, praying that it was only one, praying that it could not keep up. There were many different forms of alien, and most of the massive ones were slow in the city. They could run at least as fast as a man, but the buildings and ruins proved ample obstacles. With a bit of luck, I could survive this. I had done so before. A sudden crash to my right sent glass flying just ahead of me. An arthropod the size of a large dog landed in front of me, its razor-sharp legs digging into the floor. There was no chance of running from it. But if I climbed the building to avoid it, my pursuer would destroy it as if it was a cardboard box. I had two choices, but either led to death. My right hand burned, a sharp red glow emitting from my palm. It felt like trapped electricity. Like every bit of primal power focused into a single thought. A choice: Shall I **fight**, or **flee**? **** [Part II](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/7i4fn8/wp_resurge_ii/) | [Part III](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/7i4p1p/wp_resurgence_iii/) | [Part IV (new)](https://www.reddit.com/r/CroatianSpy/comments/7i65tc/wp_resurgence_iv/) It's a 'Choose Your Own Adventure' story! Vote on whichever choice you like best, and I hope I won't disappoint :) /r/CroatianSpy
7 Dec 2017 13:25 - +151
All us helpless billions watch on our little glowing rectangles as our fellow humans die in droves. They fall screaming, choking, burning. The internet’s bad in the house, so we hunker on the steps of the chicken coop. Together we watch the end of the world. Our breath clouds and storms around us. But we do not notice the cold. Our hearts and bones are lead. My siblings don’t make a sound. I look between the three of them and the black, faultless sky. I wonder if the afterlife looks like night, or if just looks like nothing. I wonder if I’ll find out soon. Somewhere far away, death shrieks scarlet overhead. Ships with roving eyes swarm the sky like an army of locusts. Bodies, whole and unwhole, strewn out one atop the other, left where they fell. Entire skyscrapers collapse like dominoes. News anchors weep, openly, if they’re on the air at all. My sister flicks restlessly through live streams, unable to pick which tragedy to behold. We crowd my oldest sister’s phone, barely able to watch yet unable to look away. She stops at the live press conference from the president. His voice is grave and hollow; he speaks to us from a dark room in some bunker somewhere. He says, “—at this point we have little hope. We will defend ourselves to the end, but tonight, please, stay inside, stay with your loved ones—” My brother Aaron has his head between his knees. When we were kids he ran screaming after the cougar that took his puppy. (Aaron didn't catch it.) I never believed fear was an emotion he had. “Turn that shit off,” he gasps. “Ignoring the aliens invading our fucking planet won’t make them go away,” Maya snaps but she switches to Facebook. Not that any of her friends would have time to post *oh shit I’m dying*, anyway. Out here, under the unblinking stars, surrounded by a chorus of crickets and coyote, I can’t fathom what waits out there. “Someone has to tell Papa,” Jackie murmurs. She is my twin, but you can’t tell. People always seem disappointed that there’s such a thing as non-identical twin sisters. “You’ll just scare him.” Maya, the oldest, has always been the unofficial boss of all of us. She made it official when Dad started mistaking her for our mother and trying to scramble uncracked eggs. “He deserves to know,” she insists. “If they come here,” Maya says through her teeth, “we’re not getting a panicked old man into the truck without hurting someone, alright?” Her words hang frozen for a moment. “Do you think they’ll come out here?” I whisper. I am the youngest by eight minutes, and I am good at the part. “No,” says Jackie, quickly. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.” Aaron pulls his beanie over his eyes. “I wouldn’t rule it out, Jack.” Maya gasps into her fingers. “Oh, god, they’re in Spokane.” Bile shoots up my throat. That’s barely a hundred miles from here. Not even a particularly large city. I wonder if they’re hunting us one by one. Like rabbits. “Shit, is that Maddie’s—?” Aaron snatches the phone from her hands. I lean over his shoulder to see. My sister’s friend has pressed her phone lens to the window of her dorm room. In the background, she speaks in rapid, panicked whispers with her roommate. Outside her window mortars plummet in blue and yellow streaks, big as bowling balls. I hear her cry, “Are they bombing us?” as the first one connects. It blooms soundlessly, a pale yellow locus, and then the power of it explodes outward. It takes Maddie maybe six seconds to die. She has enough time to say, “I need to call my mom,” as the wall of smoke and debris rushes toward her like a sulfurous tsunami. The window shatters. The video goes black. I don’t even realize what I’ve seen until Maya starts bawling into her hands. A strange fire tingles in my palms, my belly. I feel the urge to move. To rise and fight. “We have to do *something*,” I say. Aaron looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Like what?” My fingers dance against the leg of my jeans. I know I should be scared as hell, but something in me is restless. Hungry for something very old, and long-forgotten. I stand up and face my siblings. I look them over carefully, in case this is the last time I see them. “We will not just watch.” I point at the house. “We won’t just let them kill everything and everyone and just stand here and *watch*.” Just south of us, down beyond the hide of the mountain, the sky turns red with fire. Tears stream down my brother’s cheek. “I can’t believe this is fucking it.” I shake my head, insistently. Insanely. I don’t know why, but I can’t accept that this *is* it. That this is truly how we fall. I ball my fists up at my sides. A furious heat snaps at the bars of my ribs, yearning to set on those who dared attack our home, of all places. Our dad, of all people. I let the hate and heat fill me. Flame chases down my forearm, over my knuckles. The white hot of anger. My fist is a coal and my flesh is carved from the mountain, and I will destroy anything that threatens the ones I love. “Elektra,” my brother says, oddly calm, "why is your hand glowing?" I look at my palm and grin. The fire finds my belly now. The chaos delights some new-awoken part of me that I had never known I possessed. It is like catching my reflection in an angle I have never seen before. I am myself, but different. “I think...” I laugh, despite the clouds of smoke rising from town. It rises out of me like a bird. I have never felt smaller or stronger. “I think I did it on purpose.” *** /r/shoringupfragments ~~Doing part 2 right now~~ update: I accidentally deleted what I was working on. I'm going to go angrily eat cupcakes and try again.
7 Dec 2017 13:44 - +28
First contact was made almost ten years ago. They seemed well versed in warfare, in less than a day there wasn't a satellite left in the sky or a cable under the sea. Communication between nations fell to old ground bounce long range radios pulled out of mothballs. Conventional weapons proved to be ineffective and the nuclear option didn't fare much better. Eventually even the old analog radios where jammed. Steadily they started to wipe us out. Great mechanized beasts roamed the land, directed energy weapons reduced any caught in there sight to ash. Slowly word began to spread of old legends come to light. Wizards, witches even warlocks making pacts with demons to gain power. Men and women alike where seen calling fourth searing bolts of lighting from the sky. Ripping the ground open to devour and crush any of the aliens creations that wandered to close to the last bastions of humanity. Liquefying the great metal monsters with conjured fire. Even death was no relief to our fallen comrades as the necromancers raised forth gargantuan armies of the dead. Crushing the invaders with the sheer mass of rotting meat and gleaming bone. As our species continued to fight for our existence more of the things that go bump in the night started coming to light. At first they appeared to be fellow humans but it soon became clear that was not the case. The first were the Werewolves, nigh unkillable but by blessed silver. Transforming into great beasts they used claws and teeth to rend through armor only magic could penetrate. These furry juggernauts relied on humans not for food as in the old tales but as breeding stock. As we continued to dwindle in number they could no longer stalk the shadows. Though small in numbers they made up for it in shear brutality. Soon all of the others concealed in the shadows made themselves known. The vampires where less well received than the wolves but in the end they needed us. Becoming a donor for one elevated ones physically abilities for a time. Though to somes disappointment, crosses, sunlight and garlic did not faze them. The Fae became another ally though much less trustful, one had to be cautious when speaking with them. Never make an open ended bargain with one, it never ends in your favor. Whatever the invaders mechanized army consisted of it was not iron and they seemed to take much glee in the wanton destruction they could wield. Many hopped the elves and dwarves of some fairy tales would come to be but to this day none have materialized. Though the dragons made there presence known they more are focused on what little territory they still held and if you happen to occupy it you have one hell of a home security system. Rumblings of the old gods walking among man once more have been heard but not verified. As of now hope has yet to completely die for humanity and its newly rediscovered allies. While the dragons and invaders still rule the skies we have done much to retake the land. The current status of humanity as a whole is still not truly known, while magic is useful as a weapons it does not give it self over willingly to be used to pass missives. Communication over the oceans and across continents is still a slow process and we are just starting to retake the seas. -Field Commander, 3rd Magus Division, Capt Jasper D. Wulf
7 Dec 2017 13:27 - +19
There were some that called it a sign from God, another purging of humanity like the great flood. I never cared, all that I needed to know was that they were smart, and didn't like to go underground, best place for safe houses in my opinion. I was in one of these so called safe houses, if a sewer tunnel filled with lamps and sleeping bags counts as a house, that I first heard these claims. Left that particular house after that conversation, it wasn't safe. The bastards killed everyone there, by the time I returned the tunnel had collapsed. No signs of life anywhere. 4 weeks ago humanity was attacked by a race of unknown origin. Humanity fought back but it was useless. These things, or "clickers" as the survivor colonies refer to them due to their habit of releasing a strange clicking sound, ever seen that movie Predator? Like the predator clicks. Anyway these clickers were ruthless and brutally efficient. Russia was the first major nation to go down, falling in only 7 hours, soon all of Asia was conquered. Fast forwards 4 weeks and humans have become rats, running through tunnels, breaching the surface only for food or water. Under earth is safer than above it. I don't know why but they hate it underground, they won't search through tunnels too often. But if they know someone's there they will come. On this particular day I was sleeping in an above ground safe house. More accurately in one of the cars of an abandoned military train. The thing was perfect, armored, still functioning partway so it was warm and could lock up very tightly. I was bundled in my sleeping bag in a car that had the doors sealed tight. I had awoken from a sound I had heard outside. Namely the gunshots. That was about 30 minutes ago. But 2 minutes previously I thought I had heard a familiar clicking. I inhaled and sure enough the stench of motor oil and salt water hit my nostrils, an odd odor that clickers emitted. Suddenly the side of the car rattled as someone, or something, tried to open the door. It rattled a few more times before there was a bang that blasted the door into pieces. The clicker regarded me, I don't actually know what the things look like, they're always wearing the same armor, rectangular slabs of metal. It raised a serrated blade and charged. I stumbled backwards and my left hand fell into an open control panel full of wires I had to cut to disable the alarm systems on the cars. There was still electricity in those cables. I was expecting a massive pain, I'd maybe to blackout. What I wasn't expecting was for the energy to travel down my arm and then blast from my other hand straight into the clicker. Whatever metal that armor was apparently conducted electricity as the clicker shrieked, then collapsed into the ground, smoke pouring from in between the plates. I looked at my hand, blue energy danced from my fingers, suddenly a loud howl broke the eerie silence, a howl that meant a clicker had heart the blast. The things were slow, I likely had 5 minutes. I had packed my bag and was about to go when I glanced at the dead clicker. Curiosity struck but I still needed to get away. Do I: Run or Investigate the Body Edit: continuing story. I ran over to the thing, maybe finally a chance to see what they looked like, that metal was probably valuable as well. I looked all over the armor and finally found a small blue pad on the neck, I pressed it and with hissing steam the plates folded away revealing the front of the thing. I understood now why they covered their faces. The skin was like tanned cow hide, it was covered in what looks like blisters. The eyes were dark and hollow. The worst part was the mandible jaw. Strangely if the mandible jaw was closed the creature might look human. The howling got louder. I remembered I was on a schedule, I grabbed anything that looked useful. An odd device that looked like a flashlight with a grip and trigger, a few plates of armor, and the blade it had held. A blade that resembled a knife sized serrated Khopesh. Now I had picked up a few tricks since this whole thing went down, one of which was that most clickers with the exception of a few that has been wearing red plates instead of black, seemed to be blind. A scientist I had met in the first week said the clicking was echolactation, wait that wasn't it... Oh who cares. They relied on smell to distinguish each other and that armor still had the salty oil smell. I put the plates back into place, with a groan hoisted the dead clicker out, lay down in the armor and pressed the blue button. The layers closed down and everything was dark, of course if these things things were blind a visor wasn't needed. The second thing I noticed was that there was still a LOT of electricity surging through the armor. Now I'm no scientist but I'm fairly certain I should have been cooked alive. No time for that now. I tried to tear the helmet off and somehow succeeded. I sprinted out of there, the armor surprisingly light, snagging my pack under my arm as I ran. 7 years, and many incinerations, electrocutions, crushings, and drownings later the clickers finally retreated. Leaving behind only a strange gold box, oddly resembling an Egyptian coffin. Nobody could open it. I walked up to it and slid the blade I'd carried for seven years into a small slot in the box. It clicked and opened and I was staring at my own dead body... Roger woke with a start. "Okay that's it, no more pizza before sleep."
7 Dec 2017 17:39 - +15
"Hang on, so there's some fixed amount of power and it's divided equally among all humans?" "Yep." "And you, a strange alien creature, have culled the human population in order to increase the power granted to any one individual?" "Exactly. Do you want to try out your new powers?" "I've a few questions first actually -- as a more advanced intelligence you're certainly aware of evolution, of the fact that all life forms here on earth share a common ancestor, of the fact that distinct species arise by a process of natural selection, where only those which adapt best to their environment survive?" "Go on..." "And you're telling me that the human species possess some special access to magical powers, with the magnitude of each individual's access _depending explicitly on the number of other alive humans_? "Yeah. Is there a problem?" "You bet there's a problem. What we call human life is unavoidably arbitrary. If we draw up the family tree showing the ancestry of all humans, at some point we make it back to some gross slime that definitely isn't human, and so at some point between today and whenever the slime was around we need to choose some generation and say 'Ok, after this we're human'. Maybe before we were neanderthal, or what have you, but neanderthal is just a label we made up too, every species is. You're telling me that whether or not an organism is labeled human actually has (1) some effect on the organism, and, worse, (2) some effect on every other organism we call human. But as I've argued, these labels are completely arbitrary." "You know you can fly now? Don't you want to try that out?" "We even have a maximally human organism, against which all other organisms are compared to test their human-ness? It's Carl Linnaeus -- in honour of all the work he did on species [we locked his skeleton up somewhere](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Type_(biology)#Lectotype) and granted him the title of Ur-human. Which means that everyone alive today is slightly less human than some family of Swedish nerds in the 1700s. And if we'd happened to have chosen someone else, we'd have a different ordering of humanity in terms of human-ness." "You can teleport! You could go somewhere else, somewhere far far away, _right now_. Wouldn't that be fun?" "Worse, we haven't stopped evolving. At some point in the future we'll be so far from Carl Linnaeus that we'll need a new label to describe us. Do those powers disappear then? Once we arbitrarily decide to call ourselves something else? Seems hard to believe really." "Oh My God do you know this is why no one has bothered to contact you people all this time? I'm leaving. Do us all a favour and don't go developing any sort of space exploration program. If I see a human come anywhere near our star system I will see to their Zapping myself." "How will you decide whether the organism is human or not?" [See also](http://slatestarcodex.com/2014/11/21/the-categories-were-made-for-man-not-man-for-the-categories/)
7 Dec 2017 13:22 - +9
Kevin listened to the Oracle while sitting on the cloth that covered the pile of rubble beneath it. He's heard the tale more times than he can count: on that fateful day, 25th December of the year 2017, fleets of starships darkened the sky, and leveled the human civilization. The oracle spoke of times when humans were plenty, the time when people would gather in the weekends for drinks, the time when people fought amongst themselves over petty differences… They're all gone now. The aliens wiped them all out. All those years of hard work, all the things they have learned over time, the monuments they managed to build were all erased when the fleet arrived, and, according to the Oracle, “glassed the planet”. The oracle never spoke about how many were killed, perhaps even he doesn't know. He did however, spoke in detail as to the destruction of civilizations: How the tallest buildings erupted in flames, how the people simply turned to ash without even burning, how none managed to find out a way to deal with the aliens despite many of them spending thousands of hours practicing how to fight them… The next part always dreads Kevin. The oracle would move close to him, ignite the candles in the hut with a motion of his hand, and tell Kevin it is his destiny to overthrow the aliens, before telling him to put out the candles without leaving his seat. Kevin sat as still as he can. This is going to be another failure, another time he would disappoint the Oracle and his people… It's not like he doesn't have any idea on what the oracle wants him to do. Kevin knew the oracle meant for him to create a gust of wind with his mind, similar to how the Oracle lit the candles with his mind. “Oracle…” Kevin said while lowering his head in shame, “you know I can't do it, I've been trying since the first time I was here. There's just nothing I can do...” Kevin remained in his seat, concentrating on creating a wind to put out all the candles. He had been doing this dance every week since he was ten. And now, five years later, he still hasn't been able to accomplish this simple feat. Kevin continued to think of the wind, a strong breeze came through the door, blowing out all the candles. Just as Kevin was wondering whether this meant success for him, the Oracle signaled him to hide under the rug he was sitting on, before doing so himself. Kevin knew the alien patrols are nearby. Unlike putting out the candles, hiding from aliens is never something he had trouble with. Although he is having a tingly feeling, something is not right. And then he realized, none of them packed the candles. He pondered what he should do, as he heard the footsteps of three aliens jumping onto the ground. Each step they take, their greaves make a sound that warns everyone nearby of their presence. The message is clear -- be out of their sight, or be killed. The footsteps growing ever closer. The aliens will search the area when they see the candles. Kevin thought of his next step. There are none. Had he been able to put out the candles earlier… The scream of the Oracle pulled Kevin back to reality. As he peeked from a hole in his cover, he saw one of the aliens, in his shiny silver armor, holding the Oracle in the air. The other two were stand next to him, crossing their arms, probably enjoying the sight of their comrade killing an old man. Kevin thought of what he should do: continue to hide, and let the aliens take his mentor? Or would he try to fight them, and die. The Oracle would never wanted him to throw his life away for anyone, that he knows. He is important to overthrowing the aliens. But what good would he be if he didn't save the man that taught him everything. What good would he be if he died here... Another scream. Kevin two pieces of debris, got out of his cover, and hurled them at the aliens. The aliens stood steadfast, letting their armor deflect the rocks. Kevin picked up another one, threw it at them again, nothing. Another one, and another… Until his arms grew tired and his couldn't pick up anymore rocks. The aliens looked at one another, as one of them produced a pistols from his holster, and began taking aim at Kevin… *Why am I so useless* Kevin thought to himself as he stared the alien in the eyes, prepared to die, he is useless anyway. The alien squeezed the trigger, a blue bolt of energy launched at Kevin. He instinctively raised his hand at the bolt. Just as the bolt was about to hit him, he felt a warm wave of energy concentrate on his hand, flowing to his palm, and outward to the incoming projectile. The bolt hit his hand, but it didn't hurt. And the feeling of warmth continued flowing through Kevin. Kevin concentrated, looking at the aliens who are going to kill his friend. He let the energy wave concentrate on his hand again. Except this time the feeling is much more intense. He looked at the aliens one more time, and unleashed the wave of energy at them. He watched as his assailants come into contact with the wave of blue energy, and burned to ash in mere seconds. Kevin rushes towards the Oracle and helped him get up. Together, they packed up their camp and headed home.
7 Dec 2017 15:04 - +7
Turns out the universe isn't cold and uncaring. Turns out the universe actually wants to give us what we want. Turns out 8 billion people all projecting their wishes out into the fuzzy warm-hearted void of existence confuses the heck out of the old machinery. What I mean to say is of the bunch of us humans shouting at mama universe, those who got what they were wishing for were few and far between; the odd miracle here and there, a “lucky toss” once in awhile. You get it. It's different now. When the culling began, I...no, let me skip this part. Slowly, during the months after the event, people thought they were going crazy. Some of the surviving doctors called it PTSD or something. The more susceptible started hearing this background chatter emerge from the white noise narrated stream of consciousness. Took us another 4 billion lost for the first to get it. They were hearing the fearful calls of their brethrens’ minds. Some of the resistance’ stands got 'lucky’. Nothing sustainable, remotely helpful in the big picture; not that any even put it even together until way later anyways. On the way down to the last wretched few all of this got stronger, more noticeable until even most doubting could no longer deny having joined their fellow men (as few of us as remained) in a shared mind. Some called it God, some Gaia, some just called it magic. It really don’t matter. Once you figure out that you dreamed up this world together, it's not a huge stretch of imagination to imagine the intruders gone. Wasn't even a fight anymore. Billions lost, just a few ragged men and women with the power to raise cities from the oceans. We prospered fast, as they say we did before. But we also grew fast. Now, only very few can still hear the voices of mind and even fewer can get their small wishes heard by the void. **** The old man harrumphed, happy with his audience's captivated gazes. He sharpened his mind’s words into a needle tip of will and let it fly, making the fire in the cave in their midst flare, just for a second. His tribe exclaimed with exaltation at the power their shaman wielded.
7 Dec 2017 14:18 - +3
Waking up it felt as if i was on fire, like electricity was burning my soul away. Piece by piece it was being ripped away in time with the rhythm of my heart. As soon as i felt that i could not go on something resonated with my mind. All of a sudden that burning was replaced with a tempered heat as if my soul itself was being reborn within those fires. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As i laid there for the next couple minutes it felt as my body was rebooting itself, my senses slowly turning back on. The first thing i noticed was the smell of smoke all around me. Struggling at first, i pushed myself off the ground to try to find the source of the smell. Walking closer to my front door the smell increased in intensity as i neared. As I opened the door i felt a rush of hot air to meet me. Outside the embers of the world that i once knew danced upon the wind like the stars in the skies. The city i had grown up in was on fire, blazing like the gods themselves dropped hell fire upon the world. Suddenly there was a massive explosion and i felt a new way of heat as i was forced to close my eyes against the light. As i the light subsided i traced the sound to the rend that part of the city once occupied. Looking up from the destruction my heart stop, on the horizon a colossus of a ship had teardrops falling on to the ground that the city once laid. Ice filled within my gut as i gazed upon the damage that the ship had brought. Dread gripping my heart i could only think of one thing, escape. ------------------------------ After that night i began to question myself, what right do i have to live with all those that surely were lost within the eradication of the city. Why was i still alive while all those people were dead. After a few more days i began to hears whispers as the tempered heat came back to me filling me with someone. I did not know what was happening but those whispers started to cooing me into comfort. They whispered that what happened to those in the city was not my fault and that nothing i could've done could've changed what took place there. This soothed my worries some but i kept feeling i there was something that i had to do. --------------------------------------- A week later i was stopping at a river to drink, i do not know which one anymore as i had lost all form of direction due to my hunger which was a constant pain for me. After finishing i sat on the river bank staring into the water. This was becoming increasing common lately. I do not know if it was the lack of food or the shock of destructed all those days ago but as i stared into those waters the whispers that had been my constant companion began to grow louder and louder. With there musings i began to lose myself in their words, drifting in and out of myself. As i regained myself i felt a cool blanket wrapped around myself. As if nature itself embraced me the sight around me breathtaking. Lilies sprouted around a red maple tree that wrapped around me as if to comfort me. The whispers did not silence as they once did before. Now they murmur in a chorus that clearly rang through me. The warmth that always felt now began to bubble as they spoke. "Through our sacrifice you preserve us." With that the heat within me began to rapidly cool within me, hardening into steel. I knew what i must do in that moment. Without though i heard the words "Retentat ligni vitae, e pluribus unum" come to my mouth. With that i took off, back to the ruined city.
7 Dec 2017 12:40 - +3
Bruce stood against the wall, his whole body shaking with fear. Glaring at the creatures with hate filled eyes, he knew his end was near. The Wub had lined up 10 people along a wall execution style, ready to slauter and rid the earth of the human pest. Bruce had a welling feeling in his gut, could this be the powers the people were talking about? The Wub troopers aimed there weapons for the final part of the execution. Bruce couldn't hold it any longer, it was happening and he knew it. Gas filled the street with a toxic purple and yellow haze. The prisoners survived and had only one side effect, the putred smell of sulfer. Bruce looked at the back of his jeans. A giant hole on his butt. " Dear God I'm going to die from that smell, I'm scared for life now" spoke the young girl next to Bruce. His power was growing stronger again, or was it all those chalupas he ate yesterday night? Either way it was time to move. Bruce ran down the street, his pants flayling behind him in the wind.
7 Dec 2017 16:47 - +3
We didn't acknowledge there was anything strange going on - that was, until the second-gen power armor started being able to curve bullets during testing. Right after the Alpha Event in Eurasia that wiped out almost 70% of our population. The strange thing was, neither the smartrifles mounted on the armor nor the munitions they chambered had any sort of guidance technology. It was almost as if the soldiers had simply willed the guns to hit their targets, even with the silhouette boards 10 feet under a window. Not long after the second generation were deployed, the remaining 2.4 billion members of humanity were treated to some very uplifting news on their vidcasts. The Enemy's soldiers had not been able to hit their mark. Footage showed human soldiers, in their black, skeletal armor, advancing fearlessly towards their lines, pulse rifle rounds and shrapnel arcing out of the way at the last second to avoid collision with Earth's chosen. It would only be another several months before they were pushed back to a tiny hold in what was formerly Mongolia. But by then, we understood. We had realized our awakening had occurred, and as we always do, we weaponized it. We razed their last bastion here, and we chased them to the ends of the stars, burning their worlds as we came across them. Yes, there are few of us. But our wrath is terrible.
7 Dec 2017 15:04 - +2
When it first showed up to our sensors, everyone thought it was just an interested asteroid. Sure, it was oblong, and one of the first we'd ever observed, but it was hardly anything special. People speculated that it was an alien ship, but no one really believed it. That is, until it spontaneously reversed it's trajectory. One day, it was headed out of the solar system faster than any man made craft. The next, it was hurtling towards Earth with unnatural precision. The impact alone wiped out Canada and part of the USA. Debris clouded the atmosphere, and the world went dark. It was few month before it began to spread. It wasn't just a space rock or a ship. It was *alive*. And it was hungry. It spread like rot, sucking the life out of everything it touched. Concrete disintegrated, steel corroded to dust, and flames did nothing. Wherever it went, it spewed noxious, toxic gas. Scientists recognized it as a terraforming device. We called it the Plague. People died in their homes, refusing to leave. People stuck in the traffic of evacuation found themselves trapped in a ring of the creeping rot. It seemed to seek out life, so that it could trap it and kill it. High altitude flight was impossible due to debris, and low altitude was incredibly dangerous, because the gas that permeated the atmosphere above the Plague was impossible to filter. The human population steadily shrank, until the only free continent left was Australia. There were less than 10,000 of us when it happened. People began exhibiting strange power. Some could read minds. Others could teleport. Still others controlled the elements. I had the ability to fly. One thing that everyone had in common, however, was to share their energy with each other, from any distance, to boost one another's power. Eventually, one man was found with the power to destroy the Plague. His power was unique. It looked like raw energy, and it erased any Plague it came in contact with. He fired it from his hands as beams and blasts of blue or yellow light. Humanity immediately knew what they had to do. I was one of a team sent with him, comprised of myself, two other fliers, a wind mage to clear the air, a telepath to communicate remotely, and the man himself. Our mission was to fly to the source of the Plague to destroy it once and for all. The flight was short. In less than a day, we reached the origin. It was the only feature in a smooth, shiny black wasteland. A pillar of darkness, like a monument to humanities destruction. At his command, the telepath broadcast his speech to the rest of humanity. I was the one flying him, and I'll never forget his words. As he raised his arms above his head, he bellowed at the top of his lungs. "PEOPLE OF EARTH! *LEND ME YOUR ENERGY*!" Fukin' weebs.
7 Dec 2017 18:53 - +1
[Part 1] When they came, it was not nearly as one would expect; at least not what the average Joe, Jane, Tom, Dick, or Harry would have expected. Aliens meant fantastically futuristic, didn’t it? They were supposed to have arrived in spaceships descending from orbit and raining death upon us with technological supremacy. They might have landed their ships and been humanoids upon emerging from their crafts, wielding laser guns, or something similar, and decimating us with that technology. Perhaps they would have been more beast like, like something from a Geiger painting…right; charging forth in a beast-like frenzy? For all the world, back in early 2015—still very much a technological age for well over 90 percent of the Earth’s inhabitants—they had come sailing through the skies in what looked like ancient clippers, schooners, and similarly designed ships of wood. Fantastic all right; as in what had resembled the dark peoples that might have made up Sauron’s army from The Lord of The Rings trilogy. There were Orc-like creatures, and those with pointy ears and grey skin like evil Elves, and beserker men and women had come off those ships, washing forth upon our continents with sabres, swords, and bows, slaughtering those who’d gotten in the way. Far worse were the Warlocks; men and women in flowing robes of varying black or red hues, depending on their bent for different schools of magic. Even with the common soldiers, their armors—we’d come to understand later—had been gifted with runic magic, protecting them as they butchered any careless enough to not run away, who thought glocks and shotguns would save them. Of course, governments around the world ordered jets and attack helicopters on those ships, though their machine guns and missiles exploded harmlessly against lavender colored energy shields. When that didn’t work, larger missile strikes from military bases were tried—again, having no effect on the spelled-ships. It did take well over two years, but the Earth’s population had shrunk drastically with each passing month. Of course, something strange had been realized by the dwindling population. Magic of our own was still there, and much more present as 7 billion became 5 within the first year, and to what must be perhaps less than 1 billion now, though technology had all but ceased to function with destroyed satellites, power plants vaporized, and manufacturing plants amongst the first targets of the invaders. We’re fighting back though, with our own magic, as best we can. Our magic manifests differently though, from person to person. While runes are woven with intricate hand gestures, and spells of power are worked when invoking the right words from our enemy, ours manifests quite differently. _____________________________________________________ [Part 2 coming right up, after THESE messages...]
7 Dec 2017 15:34 - +1
There was a shiver creeping its was up my spine, slowly poking at every nerve it crossed. The frequency of the shivers has kept increasing... I’m I think I’m starting to figure out why. A few days ago my squad and I had retraced our steps while crossing the Alps, seeking refuge is a cave just a couple hundred feet down the western mountain side. A major blizzard heading toward us, there was going to be no way for us to push through to the Eastern War front in Austria without some of us freezing to death. Anyway, that night is when the Awakening happened. Half of us were asleep, the others on guard, waiting, watching for signs of extraterrestrial life; Zens to be more precise. They showed up only a couple of months ago and already an estimated 880 million people have died. I don’t know the true scientific name for them, but I do know they are a force to be reckoned with. Twice the size of the average human and five times as strong. Bullets can hurt them if you hit the right spot, but even then, they don’t go down easy. We just carry our rifles around to feel a bit safer. As the night shift took their posts, the rest of us took to our sleep, but not for long. After just 2 hrs of our bodies shocked us awake. I myself awoke to a small fire balls dancing around my finger tips. “Oh shit! Jesus, somebody help!” I shouted, flailing my hand around, trying to pat out the flames on my blanket, but it just burst into ashes. Nobody came, and for a moment things went silent for me. I took a look around the room. Some of the watch and some of the sleepers, all reacting the same as I was. Stan was bent over, hold a hand full of icicles. Marks arm was sparking with electricity. Jack was trying to calm Stan down, but Jack’s body was filled with purple spots. Each spot was like looking at a flowing river of dark purple sludge. Richie was keeping his distance from the rest of us. It was in that moment that I looked down at my hand and realized the flames didn’t burn. After using common sense, I realized they weren’t even touching me. As soon as it became clear to me, the flames vanished. I turned my attention back to the group who had all realized the same thing. Everyone had calmed down, but we’re breathing heavily. “What the hell was that?” asked Mark. I looked at my hand once more, “I have no goddamned idea.” “That was fucked up man!” Richie shouted, cowering in the back of the cave, “you guys stay the hell away from me!” “Richie nobody is gonna hurt you man, just take it easy all rig... Richie... your... shit...” Stan muttered, covering his mouth with one hand and brushing the other over his head. My head turned to Richie. A circular spot on his blue jacket was darker than the rest, and right in the middle, sticking out of his gut, was an icicle. Mark and Jack rushed to his side, throwing Richie’s weakened arms out of the way as he tried to block them. All I could do was stand there with Stan. We’d seen death before, some of our closet friends had succumbed to it, it wasn’t new to any of us. Mark and Jack could try anything they wanted, but that icicle was too big, and he was losing too much blood. Mark was the calm one, “Honestly Rich, it’s not that bad, it’s just a flesh wound,” he tried saying with a smile. “You really think so Jack, it must feel worse than it looks then,” Richie said with a light chuckle. You could see it in his eyes, the light fading away. His body and mind going numb. He was accepting his fate... being killed by a friend. “Richie, stay with me man!” Jack yelled, putting pressure around the wound, “You’re not dying on my you got that!” “Ha... this ain’t a move Mark... words can’t magically heal me... kill some Zens for me will ya?” Richie spoke his last words. Richie’s body went limp, his head dropping to the side. That was the first shiver. It was different than the normal shiver of death, it was more like a small shock running from my tailbone to my neck, like a shiver of life. I know everybody else felt it too. “What now?” Stan muttered. The others all looked at me, “We move on, and we kill some Zens,” I said, looking down at my hand, the flames reignited, a bit bigger than before. Part 2: Eastern War front. Only if enough people want it.
7 Dec 2017 17:02 - +1
A new dawn fell upon the world, and a single man greeted his final dawn. He was all that remained. The multiverse was incomprehensibly vast, and none of it mattered. Phyrexia would pay for what they did to Earth, and He would make it slow. A spark flared within the man, and the blind eternities opened to him. He was going to take the fight to Phyrexia, and nothing could stop him. The sole survivor of Earth watched five suns set, swearing that he would end Phyrexia once and for all. They tried to kill humanity. They missed one. They will regret this.
7 Dec 2017 18:28 - +1
There is a crucial aspect to conflict one must remember above all else; when victory is the desired outcome, all costs must be put on the line. If you truly seek your goal, you must be willing to sacrifice everything. Because if it comes down to it, that moment when you must choose between victory and survival… the choice must be obvious. --- I wouldn’t have been able to do it without him. Not that the task was impossible with only one person, but the sheer magnitude of the decision, the guilt of suffering the consequences – it was too much for my morality to endure. I still harbor some resentment, and I wish there was another way. But I have no regrets. If it was necessary, I’d do it all again. The gnawing at the back of my head, telling me I was selfish and incompetent, never stopped. I accept it as punishment for my sin. No amount of atonement could justify the deaths of so many. I find it hard to believe, myself. The display had counted 7.9 billion – the outcome was so harsh that it was easier to count the survivors than try to comprehend the casualties. I suppose I must start at the beginning. --- My name is Daijiro Kojima. I grew up in Moni, a country town at the foot of a mountain. Our people disliked the modern world, and chose to abstain from the technologies of the so-called Western Man. My brother Kentaro disproved of this very much. He scolded our chief often for being “ancient” and “dictatorial.” I couldn’t disagree with his accusations, as they were, to an extent, true. We held to old customs, and we clung to the advice and teachings of our chief. It was unsafe to wander outside the fence, thanks to the wolves roaming the forest, so we were largely restricted to wandering the farms and the streets. It was a peaceful life, though, and we ate well in the company of our families. Every week we gathered to pay tribute to the Effigy of the Mount, feeding it the fruits of our farms and cattle so it could sustain us with bountiful harvests. I didn’t know how, but the soil here was… different. To this day I was unsure of it, perhaps being a trick of the light or just my imagination, but the ground seemed to give off an ever so faint glow under the moon, just barely noticeable. I attributed the glow to be the spirit of the mount moving in the ground. Every year we reaped rewards that far exceeded the effort we put in. We thanked the chief for his leadership, and we thanked the mount for its generosity. We were merry and happy. --- Kentaro and I always trained with the village guardsmen, learning how to use the sword and be fleet of foot. The latter skills were always emphasized, as the chief said that our swordsmanship would be no match for the weapons of the outside world. The elders, those who travelled across the land and meditated in the fields, told us stories of the Western Man – I always wondered about the term, as they were apparently to the East and North too, even the South where the ocean is. Why call them Western if they are everywhere? But, I digress. The elders told us of the extensive range of their armaments, and the frightening speed of their attacks. It was something out of a magic story, I was sure. Kentaro told me he would protect me if the Western Man came to our village, but I always shrugged him off. We were both past childhood anyway. I was more than capable of protecting myself. But I never expected us to be the ones killing them. --- It happened while I was picking a primrose for mother. I’d been growing one behind one of the storehouses, so it would be kept a surprise. She loved flowers, especially pink ones. It would make the perfect birthday present. It became dark so suddenly that I thought a vine had torn off the storehouse and fallen over me, but I looked up to see the clouds break apart and disappear, absorbed into a blackened sky. It was dark as night, and I stumbled through the leaves towards light. After feeling along the sides of building walls along the street for a while, amidst panicking women and screaming children, I found myself in the village square. Guards ran to and for with torches, yelling to each other and ushering civilians to safety. I saw my father carrying boxes with some other men. I was confused – why was the sky black? Had the sun run away before the moon was ready to wake? Was the Mount angry at us? And then Kentaro was by my side. “Hey, Dai… everything’s going to be okay, hear me? We’ll figure this out.” I nodded. The chief stumbled past with a heavy box, but my brother caught him by the shoulder. “Hey, old man, what’s going on? Where’s the light gone?” Eyes wide, the chief turned to us. “Get everyone you can find and gather them at the effigy. I had no idea they would return, not at a time like this.” “What are you talking about? Are we under attack?” “I’ll explain everything later. The most important thing now is to get everyone to safety. Here,” he fumbled in his pocked for a second and retrieved a small object, shoving it into Kentaro’s hand. “Take this. Offer it to the effigy as you would a tribute. We need to protect everyone we can.” “You got it, old man. Come on, Dai.” So we took a torch and scampered about, sending everyone we could at the effigy. Mother showed up too, and I suddenly remembered the primrose I’d left behind the storehouse. She asked about our father, and we didn’t see him there. More of the guardsmen were arriving, and he wasn’t among them. Kentaro and I left to look for him, starting first at the barracks then progressing through the streets. We figured he’d gone to the effigy while we were searching, so we started heading back. However, as we passed a farm we saw a dozen or so men staring at the sky. We followed their gaze and there, in the air above us, we saw the blackness move. It seemed to bend and shift, as if it was a giant piece of cartilage. Parts of it seemed to brighten slightly, and I saw a multitude of small specks appearing from the lighter parts. I watched as the specks grew larger, then realized they were distant objects heading towards us. Kentaro put his hand on my shoulder. “Dai… we should go.” “But… what are those? Birds?” “Whatever they are, it can’t be good.” For a second there was a bright flash amidst the objects, and a split second later the farmers screamed. The dirt around them erupted, spewing mounds of soil into the air. They scrambled back, running for the effigy. Kentaro and I didn’t hesitate any longer. When we returned, the chief was waiting for us, more stressed than I’d ever seen him. “You left and took the key with you?! Do you have any idea of the risk you just put us in?!” His loud voice drew several eyes from those around us. “Oh, sorry… this thing, right?” Kentaro drew out the object he’d been given before. It was about half the size of his palm, colored black and shaped like a disc, engraved with the face of a cat, just like the one on the effigy. They say that black cats are a sign of good fortune. And by the looks of things, we’re going to need all the fortune we can get. “Yes yes yes – give it here!” The chief snatched the disc from Kentaro’s hand and hurried over to the effigy, dropping it in the tribute slot. The disc would travel down a pipe and end up… somewhere. I was unsure of where the tributes ended up but I was certain it wasn’t underneath the chief’s house like some kids had joked. “What now, old man?” Kentaro asked, arms on his hips. “Ken, show some respect.” Father said, appearing from the group to slap Kentaro across the back. “S-sorry, chief.” The chief was silent, instead speaking with a sly grin. The earth shook, forcing me to steady myself on Kentaro’s arm. The effigy broke open, splitting the cat’s face in two. There were several loud gasps and outcries from those gathered, but the chief urged them to calm down. The cracked effigy left a big hole in the ground, laden with steps that seemed to descend to the center of the earth. “Everyone, follow me! Carry everything you can!” The chief yelled, rushing down the hole and disappearing into the darkness, followed by the residents from the village. I looked back to the objects in the sky, which were approaching all the while. They must’ve been a hundred miles when we first saw them, but I was sure they were a mere couple miles away now. I felt a pair of hands gripping my shoulders, moving me forward. “Come on, Dai, let’s go!” Kentaro had a huge smile on his face, eyes wide. “Brother..?” “This is exciting, right? Something different is happening!” Did he fail to notice the power of those things? Exploding the ground from so far away in an instant? He always was a strange one, I suppose. So we descended the steps, each of us carrying a box of supplies. Food, I think. We travelled for maybe 10 minutes, and I felt the temperature slowly dropping. I looked up and could no longer see the entrance nor feel the rumbling from the explosions. Eventually we reached a flat area of dirt, about the size of a house interior. The whole village crowded there, staring at the large wall opposite the end of the steps. It was made of metal, and shined so clearly that in the light of the torches, we could see our reflections. The wall was adorned with strange markings and indentations. The chief walked up to it, putting a hand against it. He sighed, as if in disappointment. I saw his lips move, but he made no sound. **PART TWO IN CHILD COMMENT**
7 Dec 2017 10:37 - +1
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7 Dec 2017 15:39 - +1
At first, the aliens came in hordes. Wiped out everyone and everything they sensed a heart beat in. I lost my whole family within days, my father was the first to go protecting my older brother, then my mum protecting both of us. My brother and I were on the run for months until we got sloppy, stayed in the same place too long and he died protecting me. Somehow started a fire and took out 6 of those bastard aliens at once, made me proud to be related to him. That was 2 years ago, I’ve been alone ever since. . The blood curdling screams of those found make it hard to sleep, the goosebumps that used to cover my skin everytime I heard that scream don’t appear anymore but the knowledge of what is happening to those screaming is a horror in its own. In an effort to drown out those screams I remind myself of the golden rule, move to a new spot every 3 days. When that doesn’t work I focus on my surroundings and close my eyes,I can almost see my surroundings identically in my head. I close my eyes and hope to get some rest for tonight, tomorrow is when I find a new spot. . I jolt upright, I swear I heard a noise. Everything in the room I slept in has moved around, somethings been here. I get up slowly, crouch low and move around the house. Searching each and every room, i feel different. As if I feel that the room is empty before turning into it. Through my travels I’ve bumped into other people, traded items, bought weapons and been given food. I’ve also heard stories of survivors manifesting powers, magic even. The ability to summon storms or move water, throw fire or read minds. After determining the house is safe I sit down and close my eyes. I picture the house in my mind and focus as hard as I can. A blueprint like imagine appears in my mind, turning and growing, a 3D image replica of the layout. I can see myself sitting next to the tv, my mind zooms into the room in in. This is some crazy shit, I wonder what else I can do. I picture the tv next to me exploding and I focus as hard as I can. BOOM. “Kid! Kid! Wake up!” Struggling, I wake up but keep my eyes closed. Fuck that was dumb, blowing up the tv right next to myself yeah, nice one idiot. “Oh thank god he’s awake, he blew up a tv next to himself” I can see the young girl sitting next to me, another man pacing in the corner of the room and another, older female sitting down in a chair. I try to open my eyes and the searing pain becomes obvious in my left eye. “Glass cut your eye pretty deep, hit the cornea and maybe sliced some nerves. I was only a nursing student so I’m not too sure” the girl says apologetically, I look at her with my right eye and ask her how she knew I blew the tv up, her mother tells me her daughter was a mute her whole life but a couple of months ago she talked for the first time, but it wasn’t with her mouth. It was with her mind. She’s telepathic. They tell me they’ve heard of a colony of people that are gaining powers in the north and that they are heading there, I’m welcome to go with them.... Part 2 if anyone wants it available
7 Dec 2017 21:33 - +1
I don't know how to start here. None of this makes any sense. I grew up watching the old Superman movies on tape. I grew up wanting to be like the man himself; I always thought I'd do what he did if I ended up with his powers. I remember fantasizing about it maybe a week before first contact; it was a thought I had often. I told myself I'd skip the subtext and buy an actual Superman costume online before I went flying around the world chucking nukes into deep space and putting out forest fires. So that when people saw me coming, they'd know I was coming to help. There are a few problems with that now. The first one that comes to mind is, there's no one left to impress like that. The other six survivors don't need or want Superman right now, besides, you guys are all as invincible as I am. Second, I'm not as good a guy as Clark Kent ever was. I see that now; let me explain. There are seven human beings still alive on Earth; the rest of us were wiped out by aliens. They brought colony ships the size of the Moon, dozens of them; you can see the whole fleet at night. I can't imagine how many of them there are. Hundreds of billions? Trillions? Trillions of them against seven of us, and we're winning. One of us brought down a colony ship yesterday. Again, this thing was moon-sized and filled with billions of aliens. She took a running start and jumped from the Earth's surface hard enough to punch a hole out the back of the ship. The whole thing just shattered into scrap metal. I think we should surrender. I haven't said so out loud, not to any of you, but I still think it. Seven of us against trillions of them, and why are we fighting? I don't think it's for revenge, but it's something close. It isn't to save the world; we got these powers too late for that. Therein lies the problem. Nothing we do to these invaders will bring back the people they killled. Our actions from now on can only decide what happens to us and the aliens. I think a trillion lives are worth more than seven, no matter how we ended up in this situation. No matter who those lives are, human or otherwise. I dunno if you agree with that or not. I dunno which choice Superman would make. I can't even picture him thinking of a moral dilemma like this. To Superman, the right thing to do is instantly obvious. Me though; I have to think on it. So I thought on it, and I realized something. Whatever the source of our powers is, whether you call it magic or mana or Light or a million other things; there is a source. It's something only humans can use. And we can be reasonably sure evolution just doesn't do this. I think there's a God. I never believed in Him before first contact, and for a while afterward I kinda figured the existence of aliens confirmed it. I read a book once that had this line about evolution. *There were only two known causes of purposeful complexity. Natural selection, which produced things like butterflies. And intelligent engineering, which produced things like cars.* This magic, whatever it really is, it didn't evolve. It was created, and whatever entity has the resources to create a source of magic must, by definition, be a god. One that specifically took interest in humans for a number of possible reasons, including ones suggested by a few of our religions. And those religions usually also claim that God has *been* here, to Earth, and spoke in person with His creations. Wherever He is now, he hasn't been paying attention. One inference leads to another. If magic, then God. If God, then Heaven. If Heaven, then afterlife and souls and *one possible chance* to undo the extinction of the human race and end the conflict with these aliens without murdering them all. God isn't paying attention though, so someone has to go find Him and tell Him to look this way. I'm leaving. I don't know what will happen to me if I fly too far from Earth or the Sun; maybe the magic will cut off and I'll need air again and I'll die out there in space. I don't even know where I'm going; which way God went; so I'm relying on faith and that sounds like a shitty plan, but I have to do it. I leave this note to you, the six of you, and I hope you forgive me. I hope you do what you can to spare the enemy's life, and I hope I come back one day to fix this. If not, this is my suicide note. There are worse ways to die. I have to do this. The chance to save seven billion lives, however slim, is worth the risk to my one life, however great. Now that I think about it, that does sound almost like what Superman might say. Goodbye.

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