The tale of Cyberia

Imagine a world, where imagination is illegal. A world where the few people who can dream are hunted like animal, in a world made of metal, in a sociaty controlled of a single man. A city where everything you do is registered and filed. Art is non-existing, music is non-existing. Love is non-existing.

In this vast world of control, the few dreams that exist, can come to life.


1. Prolouge "No Snow"

"Once upon a time", thats how most fairytales start. Now many scary stories start with, "it was a dark and stormy night", and many diaries start with "dear diary". These are the commons, the standards and the basics. Now, due to the human mind, someone will seek to break these normalities, to destroy these boundaries of storytelling. These people are called "Storytellers", and they create the abnormalities, deviations from the common idea of imagining. For some of these people its a sport, a test of how different they can be, how abnormal they can be. They are called "Forcers" These people are dangerous, both to themselves and to others. For their never ending training makes them strong enough to create ideas so powerful that they cant control them, these ideas wind up killing people, including their creator.
Then there are the "Flowers", and i don't mean some kind of plant-people, i mean the people who's powers flow through them with ease, and out of them. Controllable and harmless, unless of course the creator doesn't mean for them to be. These people are not to be feared, as long as you have no evil intentions.

Now you might be a little confused by my ramblings, for my world is not like yours. I live in the world known as Cyberia, the land of the new age. Once upon a time the world was made from the same idea as yours. Big chunks of land surrounded by water floating around on big plates in the underground. We had clouds, a sun and a core made of liquid stone and minerals, occasionally some of this magma, would flow to close to the surface and exit through mountains called volcanoes. But no more.
Ever since the development of forming precious metals using other minerals such as water or dirt, the world changed, some say it was for the better, some say it was for the worst. And as it is with such matters, there has been no agreement, and no agreements lead to conflicts, and conflicts lead to battles, and battles, battles lead to death.

Today, our world is a metal ball, floating in the universe, like a comet with world-wide free internet.
In the start the scientist were worried about the repercussions of altering the world in such a way. But as the time went by, greed took over even the most skeptical of the scientist, and machines were sent down to transform futile earth and deposits of groundwater as big as the victorian lake, into metal.
It took a mere 5 years before the entire earth were a hundred percent hard cold iron and steel.
To deal with the different problems, which inevitably would follow. The science team developed an artificial core, a big crystal filled with repulsing energy counteracting the increased gravity of the transformation. As for the lack of geothermic heat emanating from the magma, they surrounded the core with long superheated rings of iron powered by the energy of the core. Lying thousands of miles far beneath the metallic surface, rarely ever seen by the human eye, they heat this planet

But somethings weren't fixable, clouds, for example. Due to the lack of water the clouds seized to exist, this also means no rain, no hailstorms, and no snow.
Luckily the scientist were able to fix the water problem, they just gathered it from outer space. They have giant pipes going out several lightyears, gathering water wherever there is water to be gathered, its a bit complicated.

Now you probably still wonder what i was talking about earlier, with the whole Thinkers and all that, don't worry ill get to that now.
See our world wasn't made the same way yours were.
In our world, imagination is a force like no other. It holds a magical power, the power of imagination so to speak.
Most people are born without the power to imagine, in fact, if you go out on the streets in Cyberia and ask someone to imagine a random scenario, in 97,8 percent of the cases you'll be met with blank eyes and confused facial expressions.
The world is without imagination. Why, you ask? Because thats how we were created.
See a long time ago in your world, a man was born, a man with the ability to force his imagination out of his head. To project them out into the world outside his mind, give them a life.
This man was the first storyteller, his powers were the greatest ever seen.
Through his life he did many things, but he never let anyone see his talent, in fear of being feared rather than being admired.
Over time he grew bored with the things he could do in your world, he wanted a place where he could do whatever he wanted without the fear of being discovered.

So he created a world.
A separate world, in a separate universe. At first he could only keep it in existence for a few hours a time, then he had to rest. But as he grew older and stronger, he could keep the world in existence for longer and longer periods of time. Days became weeks and weeks became months.
Now from here on the story is a bit unclear, up until the point of his death.
The legend says that, as he was laying in his dying bed, he called in his son, and whispered in his ear, whispered the whole story to him.
Then he closed his eyes and let all of his energy fly into our world, letting us live when our creator died. This was the first time a story lived for more than a few minutes after its creators death.

You see, whenever a creator dies, while having a creation in the world, all of his or her energy is sent into the creation, giving it the ability to live on after the creators death.
So you know now that our world is a story, made by a man who died thousands of years ago. A story in a dead mind.
The thing that concerns us is, what happens when the story ends.
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