Power. Money. Science. Three small words, with such a huge impact on the balance of civilization. Humans, a delicate thing, but not so delicate, when these words they invented, are tested against them. As each century passes, technology changes completely. And since the beginning of our existence, we have fulfilled our part of the cycle; one entire species fall, another rises to take its place, and its our turn.....to fall. Welcome to the 22nd century, population, pfft I don't have a clue. Everything has changed, again. 100 years of chaos, suffering, and malice. What you see is a new world. But a new world is not always a positive thing. Humans, the supposed "protectors" of Earth, its funny how money can so easily overpower honor and loyalty, because thats the same thing as how destruction and malevolence can overpower freedom, and protection. All the worst has passed, we have not yet fallen, and we are not beginning it in a long time. Until we settle our arguments, until we cease our pointless wars, Until we combine together, as a race, to fight against those who want our place, we are humankind, the greatest danger the galaxy and beyond have to view upon. It's time to rebuild what has been destroyed, to ensure the innocence of species....human...or not human. A planet cannot be owned, but it can be altered, we were the alterers, but what we have done has bought great consequences. Earth, our home, we will never see it turn better.....but we will die....before we see it turn worse...
Voices echoed in his head, it resonated through him, piercing his thoughts. " News report, world war 3 caused by PMC's, governments overwhelmed with only nuclear warfare at their disposal", "mutually assured disaster (MAD) predictions go horribly wrong, most of Asia, Europe, and large amounts of areas in the Atlantic around North America suffer nuclear fallout, millions die, very few evacuated"
He tossed and turned in his bed, sweat pouring down his back, drenching his sheets, he urged at the sound of memories attacking him internally. "4 primal cities in ionic shielded biodomes to conserve humanity, nobody must cross the frontiers, nobody". "World economy drops due to investment in scientific equipment, warfare technology is a big must"
"We tune in live with famous ex-militia soldier, Alec Shard, since 2087, you and Alan Blakeway have been serving the Phanix military for over a decade, you were friends since your times as children, why do you think he betrayed you? do you think he has something to do with the death of your father? what are your thoughts on the skraull? what hope is there in humanity?" The voices distorted constantly in a sinister manner. "Friends, betrayed, death, father, skraull, hope, humanity....humanity....HUMANITY".
He screamed from his bed, he looked around his room, which was tainted dark and calm. He breathed in and out vigorously, the echoing slowed down. His breathing lightly elevated, he looked at his clock. "7:23am". Raising from his bed, he approached his cupboard and struggled to open it, as if he was disoriented. He flipped it open and pulled out a sleek uniform. It was patterned with high tech equipment and ammo cases, with a military badge on the shoulder, and a name tag on the chestplate. "pvt. Alec Shard". strapping it on, he walks outside, onto a balcony, the lights flare brightly, a huge metropolis beckons in front of him, a beautiful sight, the sprawling skyscrapers, and the hoveroad gateway systems spread though the areas. He looked up, he saw a sky, a sky with hexagons. A huge dome that covers this city, he looks up and smiles, as a wing drone, a small flying robot, with a glowing blue eye and dual spinning rotors, flies down onto his porch. "Your mail sir has arrived!" it bleeped, exporting a tightly sealed envelope between his feet. mumbling a thankyou, he opens the envelope. He stared blatantly at it. he scrunched it into his pocket and jumped off the balcony. He fell, until his ankle shafts activated and lowered his fall speed, he slowly landed on the ground, emitting a shroud of gas his boosters produced without a injury occurrence. He safely travels the dystopian streets, until he stares high at a huge cooperate building, the holographic sign brightly reading "Phanix inc.". "Lets see if humanity does have hope after all" he briefly said, his voice was soft and elevated, it sounded broken, and lowered under the echo's of footsteps meeting contact with the loud metal floor, as he disappeared into the building and beyond.