In the End

2178. Earth has changed; along with it's people. Everyone is divided into two classes - the elite and the common- at age 16. Yet, Angel Wellington know that there is something wrong. Not with the society - no, because there is nothing she can do to change her common status - but with the past.
2052. Earth is in chaos; along with its people. Everyone is divided - those fit for war, and those that are not - at age 16. And right at the top, stands Oliver Errol. He knows the truth - he knows he could change everything if he just said one word - but he knows that he could lose everything if he did.
There are choices to be made.

The fate of the world, or your future?


1. Oliver Errol Can Save the World

In the end, you'd think people would make the right decision. You'd think people would think about everyone else - when it comes to the fate of the world or themselves - but everyone, everyone is selfish.

We don't want to die. We don't want to think about the unknown world that is - or isn't - the afterlife. We don't want to face the truth that is a painfully simple as this: we all die.

So, when it comes down to it, we all chose what will help us even if it hurts others.

That's just the way life is.

We don't want to face oblivion. We don't want to let go. So we hold on. Self preservation. It's how the human race has gotten so far.

It's how we ended up here.

Open up your calendars, it's July 17th, the year 2052. And we - the human race, I mean - are falling. The invaders (we haven't thought of a better name for them yet) are slowly breaking us. The America's are in shambles, we can all thank the United States for that. Asia is slowly falling apart. Africa is the head of military affairs - we send all our recruits there; it's the only continent big enough to hold everyone anymore. Australia and Europe have the survivors, children and mothers and fathers to watch over them.

We are currently at a standstill. The invaders are high in the sky, watching and waiting for any sign of our surrender, and we aren't sure what to do next.

Enter Oliver. He's nothing special, an ordinary mind with an ordinary family and an ordinary life.His mother, Regina, was born in what used to be the United States,  though she had Middle Eastern heritage, her mother was born in Turkey and her father in Syria. She wasn't tall, though, she wasn't short either. Her eyes - dark, almost black - were passed down to Oliver, as did her tanned and brown skin. Though Oliver looked much more like his father than his mother. George, Oliver's father, was a large fellow with broad shoulders and long legs. Oliver had inherited his father statuesque, along with his kindness. George Errol was a kind man, and though he looked threatening and large, he was as kind-hearted and likable as could be.

He was normal. Until this moment in time.

See, currently, Oliver is standing in front of the biggest machine he's seen in his entire life (by the time he was born everything was miniaturized, all the big things anyways).

All he knows is that he was chosen for some important military project - he didn't even know what it is - that gives him a hunk of money that could get him out of training.

And from this moment on, everything changes. Everything.

See, this wasn't supposed to happen. None of this is supposed to happen. Oliver isn't supposed to be important. He's supposed to be another face in the mass of people thrown into the dangerous war that would one day take their lives.

Yet, here Oliver Errol is. Standing in front of the biggest machine he's ever seen in his entire life, not sure why he's there.

The door opens, a tall woman - Agent Laurel Kelly - and a short, plump man - Doctor Ivan Riley - walk into the room.

"Hello," Agent Kelly says to Oliver, "may we sit?"

She pointed to the table behind Oliver, in the middle of the room. Oliver nodded, knowing that that was the only answer he could give.

They sat at the rectangular table, Oliver sitting across from Doctor Riley, who was next to Agent Kelly.

"Hello, Oliver," Agent Kelly started, "I'm Agent Kelly and this is Doctor Riley. We are here today to talk to you about the world. Or, more specifically, the fate of the world."

"What?" To say Oliver was confused would be a massive understatement, he wasn't the sharpest pin in the box, but he wasn't the dullest either. But, he wasn't even sure what was going on, or why.

"The world. And you," this was Doctor Riley, "you are some strange anomaly. You are the epicenter. And we can't figure up why. You aren't special. You're not even-"

"Alright, alright," Agent Kelly coughed, trying to stop Doctor Riley from talking, "we need you."

"Wha- why?" Oliver was stunned.

Agent Kelly shook her head, "It's confusing and a long story and-"

"And I wouldn't understand?" He questioned, his tone mocking and angry.

"Not unless you understand the time-schist theory," Doctor Riley gave him a exhausted and annoyed look.

Oliver had nothing to say to that.

"Oliver Errol. Oliver Errol, you can save the world."

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