Leaving Earth

Leaving Earth

Nov 29, 2011


The Machine’s interpretation of Malcolm’s brain.



The following was automatically-generated by The Fold.

Chapter 1

There was a time when I would have done anything to see this world burn. Now I ain't so sure. Amidst the corruption and violence, greed, fear – I've realized one thing: this isn't isn't a way to live. People are not inherently evil. One should not live in constant fear of an invisible ruler halfway across the world, forcing our hands at the ever 
manipulation of a string.

I've also realized another thing: I cannot stand idle. So ingrained in our society are the corporations that one cannot even eat without approval, taxation and rationing. Constantly monitored by that which we cannot see, there are few places one might call 'private'. Among these is the Broken Arrow, a bar overlooking the forsaken city of Angles, forever in the shadow of our moons. So hidden above the skyline is the establishment that no man, corporation or savage may find it without prior knowledge.

This was his stop. Malcolm donned his sheriffs hat and took one step from the lift into the bunkhouse; a dirty, cramped excuse for protection provided by the corporations, at a hefty cost, of course. To call it such was an understatement; mattresses littered the floor as did the dogs. The people, they worked for housing and food. It was slavery all over again. As he made his way across the room, Malcolm could not help but notice a distinct lack of people. Even given the current state of the world, many were normally willing to give him a notice, exchange pleasantries, or simply nod in respect. The few present now sat in absolute silence, watching his masterful strides as he silently crossed the room. An aura of somnolence permeated like that of a death, and to death Malcolm was no stranger.

Upon reaching the inner wall at the far side of the room, Malcolm withdrew a large brass key from inside of his wind-beaten trenchcoat. The scimitar hanging at his side shimmered in the darkness, though it was the badge hanging at his other that caused the nearby children to scatter. Without hesitation, Malcolm placed the key into a crack just a foot off the ground, turned, and pushed the stone wall inward. 

Malcolm stepped into the hallway and was affronted by bulky man, probably in his late forties, balding, scowling, sporting a heavily worn (and obviously cheap) Japanese blade and smelling of liquor.

"Awe, hell Malcolm. You know the patrons don' like it when you come around."

"Pleasure seein' you as well, Brollie. Jason called for me." Malcolm responded with a smirk.

"I'll trust no such thing, least of all from a corporate pig. Wait here, and don' you go causin' no trouble, lest I skewer you when I get back. Shut that door."

Without a second glance, Brollie crossed through the doorway, returning minutes later to let Malcolm through.

"Jason's behind the counter. Go see him."

Without hesitation, Malcolm stepped into the torch-lit bar and made his way across the room. Shadows danced off the oily iron walls and wooden pylons, reflecting in such as way as to mask his identity yet give his silhouette an ominous presence. A hush befell the regulars when they saw the sheriffs hat, while newcomers slipped from the room altogether. Malcolm made his way to the counter, taking seat alone at the end, and dismissed a drink from the nervous-looking bartender.

"Jason's expecting me." Malcolm told the man. Not long after a short, round man, bespectacled and dodgy as they come approached from behind the counter.

Jason picked up a glass from under the counter, and began to absently wipe it down with a cloth. Only briefly glancing at Malcolm, he asked "Would you care for a drink?"

"Negative. I'd be a fool to drink after what I just saw."

Jason stopped wiping. A bead of sweat trickled from his forehead as he wiped it with the back of his hand and looked at Malcolm.

"Hell, I'd believe it if you told me pigs were flyin'. With all that's happened in the past year, you could tell me the world was gonna' end and I'd take your word for it."

"Jason, I'm starting to think it is."

Jason faltered. Placing the glass on the counter, he pulled the spectacles from his face, barely able to hold on. He wiped the sweat from his eyes as he reflected on the events of seven years ago. 

'The Event' is what the locals call it, but few can explain its cause. More than 20 years ago, Mars and Jupiter collided in one of the most bizarre and unexpected catastrophes of modern history. It wasn't until 13 years later that Earth was showered in the fallout. While most of the rubble burned before colliding with Earth, an unexpected amount was caught in orbit. Over the years, this rubble has grown into dozens of large asteroids and three distinct 'moons', each with unique properties. At nearly 1/8th the size of Earth each, the planet has seen a drastic change in climate directly correlated a lack of sunlight. Furthermore, radioactive traces have severely impacted plant and animal life.

"I'm too old for this shit." Jason remarked with a scorn.

Malcolm rose, and stepped to the greasy paned window in the corner. He looked over the sweeping city, at the thousands of dark structures rising hundreds of stories into the sky, ever eclipsed by the remains of Mars and Jupiter. Snow was beginning to fall as he beckoned for Jason to join him.

"Look. Do you see the arena, just there?"



data.stats.symptoms = [
    - determination


She’s a drowning place for demons

She’s a cage for every unclean spirit, every filthy bird

That makes us drink the poisoned wine to fornicating with our kings

Fallen now is Babylon the great

— from Avenged Sevenfold - “Beast and the Harlot”


The future proves the past.