EarthFall: The Orion

*WARNING: Blood & Gore will be prominent throughout the remainder of this novel.*

Earth has been ruined, humanity torn apart, and an undying creature now roams freely through the desolate lands where many great cities once stood. Many have escaped to the colonies of the Red Planet, but those who were not fortunate enough now live on a dying Earth. Both factions are now at war fighting for control, and for freedom. The United Earth Rebellion works tirelessly to claim rightful ownership of Earth and to restore its once former beauty and nature, though the Colonists, who had once fled because of an awoken terror, now want to return to their home, and resume control of the Rebellion and it's people. Nearing a month spent on Earth, Almaric of Orion, born on Mars, now has a task at hand. To kill the leader of the Rebellion and lead victory for the Colonists. His allegiances begin to waver, once he has a taste of life among the Rebels and those he once hated.

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2. A Dwelling

            Almaric disassembled the archaic L96A-1 sniper rifle and slung it over his shoulder as he grabbed his coat and bag. It wasn’t much that he had, but he did have a purpose for being on this godforsaken planet, and he’d do what it would take to achieve it. As he looked towards the sky to get his bearings, he was reminded of his real home, where he was born and raised, a planet not much further, in fact, right beside the one he was on now, but to him he seemed galaxies away. Continuing his journey towards the dim lights on the horizon, they seemed to become brighter as he got closer, probably as a result of the day sinking away into the dark skies. Apparently, in these areas, what used to be as barren as it was before, the stars were the easiest to see, even after all the effects of pollution in the air. Almaric felt as if he could almost just lay down and gaze at the stars in serenity, though that peace would surely not last for long as another howl in the distance quickened his pace towards what was hopefully a safe retreat.

           

            Eventually coming to nearby dwelling, what seemed to be a farmhouse before the Mass Event, Almaric cautiously inspected the outside of the crumbling building and saw that it had lain undisturbed for what he could tell had been a long time. Though he had not seen a farmhouse, or many things he had only learned about before his team’s Earthfall, though it wasn’t a fond memory that he wanted to think about. Searching on the ghastly house’s front porch, he came to a broken flowerpot that was sitting on the windowsill next to the door. Almaric took as much of the soil, what had now become a dust like powder and scooped it onto the floor. Removing the pieces of the ancient shell, he moved the broken parts to one side and uncovered a key with signs of rust on it. Though it seemed unpractical to search for a key, Almaric disliked breaking into a home unless it was completely necessary. And it might have seemed hypocritical to find the key anyways and break in, he took it as a twisted sense of courtesy, or rather what he thought was the closest thing to it.

 

            Almaric turned the handle to the door, the key now in its place, as he pulled towards himself, the door gave way, rust making it creak loudly as he stepped inside. With caution, he drew his blade from it’s sheathe, a small hunting knife, but with a beautifully ordained handle and stepped into the shadows weary of what may be lurking within. The farmhouse, deserted, surprisingly seemed neat and untouched, which was very uncommon especially for a dwelling made before the Mass Event. With a quick sweep of the area, he found that it was deserted indeed; thankfully none of…them…had taken residence within the confines of this ruined shelter.

            Placing his bag down within what used to be the master bedroom, it’s paint stripped down, and the bed weathered by age; Almaric took to securing his newfound place of rest. Barricading the door, windows, and any entrance, he then looked to making sure there was not only one, but two ways out of the bedroom for a quick and easy escape. Raiders were common in this area, the most foul and brute of humans, Almaric was taught that they were once common working class citizens who had banded together after the Fourth World War had lay waste to major cities across Earth.

 

            Almaric pulled his sleeve up as he sat down on the bed, it creaking softly underneath the unaccustomed weight. An odd looking metal device was strapped to his arm, with blinking blue lights, after a few taps, Almaric tapped on an icon that resembled a square with a circle inside, where that symbol originated from he did not know, but he began to speak softly.

 

            “This is Major Almaric of Orion reporting for day…” taking a pause and with a few more taps pulled up a count of days, “…day 28 of my mission to assassinate the leader of the United Earth Rebellion. It has been 14 days since I lost my fellow men to a pack of raiders, their bodies I was not able to recover. Rations are still adequate, and I have been able to survive, though I ask for reinforcements, I fear I may not be able to complete this task that has been given to me all on my own. My current location is 44 degrees north by 79 degrees west approximately. I am headed towards the city district, where I will be able to uncover some more information regarding the UER and their current location of operations. Hopefully by the end of this mission we will be one step closer to reclaiming this world that was once ours. Out.”

 

             Once again tapping at the screen, he primed the message to be sent once the long range scanners on the moon would be able to pick it up, if there was still a scanner still left there. Lying back on the bed, Almaric looked to the broken ceiling and stared; the odd make of the ceiling intrigued him. It had rough and jagged edges, though small, still made him wonder why those who lay here before him did not ever decide to smooth it out and make it flat. Parts of the ceiling had already fallen or decayed leaving gaps and crumbles throughout, reminding him of the broken moon that shone outside. War had not been kind to the human race, and even less than that to the natural elements that bore man fruit and sanctuary.

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