System001
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Chapter 1
It had begun.
My body trembled beneath the immense G-force. It felt like the very core of my being would lunge out from the rest of my body, and be left to float around space as my carcass crashed to earth preserved within the confides of my shuttle. Sweat surged down my brow, the majority of my top was already soaked. The descent to earth itself was truly frightening, however what awaited my beyond left a feeling of dread within me, I couldn’t shrug the feeling of apprehension. Would I really be able to survive down there? Would I be able to survive? A slight swishing noise was produced as I violently shook my head, casting away my feelings of fear and focusing solely on mentally preparing myself for the ordeal to come. I had to survive, I had to fight, I had to succeed. Not just for me, but for humanity. No, that sentence was far too selfless, could I really give a shit about the rest of Humanity when my life was at stake? It was clear that they didn’t give two pennies about me, yes of course they cared for the team, they wanted us to succeed, and survive. They prayed for us, cast lots for us, or did religious or superstitious rituals, however they didn’t care about us as beings, they only cared about the responsibility in which we carried, in essence they cared about themselves. They wanted us to survive so that their life would be more plentiful, if we were wiped out overnight, yeah I’m sure they’d cry, but only because their hopes and dreams had been shattered, not actually for the people whose bodies would be left strewn across the unforgiving wasteland. I’m sure there were a few people who cared, but they were a minority. No, I was going to do this for myself, and the few people who I knew that cared, my family. I’m not going to fight for humanity, I’ll fight for my own personal gain. Yeah, that was going to be my resolve, and I’d carry it out until my last breath.
Then, everything dimmed, it was about that time, the time of impact. The pod would inject a liquid into me that would put me to sleep, it was one of the few ways designed so as to survive the shock of the crash. My eyes sagged and drooped, and then everything went black...
A year had passed.
Earth, or the Deathtrap as I liked to call it had taken it’s toll on everyone both mentally and physically, thousands of people had already died, and many more were injured or on death row. I however, was still going strong, I’d managed to brave the wasteland, I’d survived...physically that is. I was one of the few members who were in the “Leading group”, it wasn’t necessarily a group as in we travelled together, oh contrary, rather it was a categorization. We were in a sense, the elites of the elites, the fittest of the fittest, we’d gone deeper than anyone else, fought harder than anyone else, and survived. We’d been to hell and back, or should I say, we’d continued to travel deeper into hell. Over the year, many people decided to simply drop out of the mission, they didn’t have the mental strength nor physicality to continue onwards, they lagged behind forming groups and small civilizations or being picked off one by one. We however, were still advancing on, at the forefront of the attack, still striving to complete our objective. It was in a sense, safer to travel at the front, well at the beginning it was anyway. You’d be able to slaughter the beasts before they could realise they were being invaded and prepare an ambush, you’d have a higher chance of finding any remains of technology or medicine to put yourself on a better standing. Your senses never dulled, you exceeded your limits, adapted and evolved to power through each situation, later however, being at the lead grew more and more dangerous, however we still suffered less of a death toll than the stragglers. Being in the lead-group was to be on the edge of life and death, the very percipe, a fine line indeed. A line in which I’d almost crossed far too many a times. Being in the lead-group was bad enough, however going Solo at the frontlines was considered suicide. I was one of the few who dared to do it, and literally one of a handful of people who succeeded. Travelling in a group had it’s benefits, but for me, it’d only be a drawback, it carried a responsibility, a responsibility I wasn’t able to bear. However I very rarely faced up to the truth and simply used the excuse of other people being a “hinderance”. Even now, while simply thinking I shrugged away from the truth.
A claw grazed my shoulder.
I was erupted from my thoughts as pain flushed and seared through my left arm, sending a riveting burning sensation coursing down my limb. A feral cat like monster stood before me. Its coat a sleek midnight blue, with a slight silver gleam, it was roughly the size of a lion, yet focused on speed rather than bulk, it’s eyes shone a bright yellow in the sunset light. The fact that it had failed to kill me at its only chance showed it was either injured, sick, or young, nonetheless I showed no mercy. I instinctively waived my right hand to my back, grasping for my sword hilt, and with a single fluid step I launched myself forwards at insane speeds towards my opponent. I quickly closed the distance that the beast, which used a hit and run tactics of sorts had made. Before it could even attempt to contract its muscles in a futile effort to leap out of the way; my sword was buried deep within it’s throat. A unpleasant gurgling sound was produced. I grimaced at the thought of the animal gasping for its breath, only to find that it’s blood is spilling down it’s chest, filling up its trachea, the beast slowly coming to the realisation that it was dying.
It would’ve sounded weird to a normal person that the majority of the team sent down to earth went with basic fighting equipment, opting for swords, spears, hammers and other ancient weapons over laser guns and whatnot. However Syndicate abilities synced with physical weapons more than they did artillery weapons. Infact, for a person to carry and rely on a artillery weapon for survival down here was considered a deathwish. The amount of power a honed professional Syndicate could draw out when in sync with a archaic weapon was devastating, enough to wipe out an battalion equipped with the most high tech weaponry with moderate difficulty. Syndicates were a force to be reckoned with, and as such became a scourge of society, degraded as second class, that, or they were exalted beyond belief and praised as being blessed by God. However one thing was certain about Syndicates, their eyes, their eyes always held a untold pain.
It had almost been a cycle of 18 hours, the sun had set and risen roughly 70 times over the past 18 hours, well it hadn’t literally, it was simply how we viewed the stars from within the time flux. It was a phenomenon. Fatigue gripped my body. Which signaled that it was about time I set up camp, I quickly reached into storage, which was in-fact a little pencil case like object strapped to my thigh. Within was contained all necessary equipment, which, 500 years ago would have been impossible, however thanks to the advance in technology we were able to build objects which were far bigger on the inside then they were on the outside. It seemed impossible, yet it was possible. I quickly scrolled down the list of with-drawable objects, taking out a small capsule containing a already made tent with a defense shield. I vehemently threw the capsule across the ground, watching it roll as it poofed, creating the objects I desired. The field created would prevent most beasts from entering, while it would instantly alert and wake me if one managed to make it through, a needed piece of technology for braving these harsh lands.
I soon settled down onto my bed, allowing myself to drift into sleep, where I dreamt, dreamt and remembered.
