Author's note: This tale is a dark one, but thankfully not dark enough for an M rating. But what I really want you to examine is Greg's troubled life.
I'm sure you can agree that Greg Heffley's life isn't the best life to live in, and probably any of us would have done better than him. But the problem is that he gets run into all kinds of mishaps, accidents, injustice and misfortunes-mostly for no fault of his. Therefore I guess its suitable that he deserves to have a little vengeance.
Welcome to the dark gloom of a desolate apocalyptic future of Greg's world
Prologue
If you are reading this, then I have probably been captured by the Sentries for the purpose of lab experiments and brainwashing, or directly exterminated with their laser rays.
I am Chirag Gupta, and I am one of the many refugees who scavenge and struggle for the remnants of the sustenance of the land. We used to be spoiled for taste and luxury, living at ease and convenience. But then it brought about our selfishness and indifference to many things, so much that we realized too late that our world was going to be torn apart. And it did, and we were reduced to ragged beggars, fugitives, scoundrels and bedlams.
In this wasteland, rendered barren by the destruction brought upon by nuclear bombs and the wrath of the Sentries, I have to face so many dangers and hazards, ranging from hunger, to thirst, to hopelessness, to the jaws of mutant animals that somehow are more starving than us, the poor brutes. Every day, whenever I open my eyes and rise from my stone bed, the parched cracked earth, I realise that I have awoken to a nightmare that will never go away. This is a living nightmare that will haunt me to my last breath.
When I am not looking for the few isolated ponds of water or the menial sprouts of wild peas that could be my only meal for the day, I am often pondering on my miserable existence on this hellish landscape. Not only I had to watch out for the snarl of a radiation-infused predator, but many times I had to duck or run under a rock whenever I heard a strange metallic groan or a sharp whistle, for that could be a Sentry dropship or a Drone, unmanned stealth fighters that are infamous for their versatility and element of surprise.
But I've heard from fellow wanderers that the Chancellor tweaked the Sentries' algorithm purposely to led us suffer and whither in this harsh wastelands. For all I know, he could order his Sentries to find us and take us out all at once. For he is the ultimate dictator, ruthless and cold in all that he does. But the Chancellor's wickedness and reign of terror is because of our failure to recognize right and wrong, and our failure to help those who felt abandoned and could not share their feelings. Society's failure to reach out a hand to the struggling, regardless of class or rank or race, brought this punishment on us all.
When I was a boy, I had this classmate called Greg Heffley. An average kid like myself, he loved video games and played jokes just like any others of his age. In fact once he pretended that I was invisible and had somehow been whisked off to goodness knows where! At that time I hated it and reported it to my father, but now I look back and see that it was so harmless. Generally he is a good-natured guy who does what he can for the benefit of others. But like every person, he does have misgivings and weaknesses. Only that his family was a fickle.
Out of envy for the performance of 'star' kids especially of his boss (Rowley told me a lot just before the Rising occured, some time before the Ten Hour War), Greg's dad sent him to Spag Union to curl up and wilt into uniformity and strict regulatory. It was the very thing that broke Greg's soul and he ran away to become a fugitive.
Forced to flee the country not only by the authorities but also by the hostile and unfriendly streets and life on the run, he traveled all around the world, where he eventually discovered his love for science and technology. Discovering secret works of disgraced scientists who were scorned and even put behind bars because of their controversial works of discovery, he eventually created the first prototype Sentry in seven years, a remarkable achievement.
The first Sentry was a powerful robotic entity which no weapon of man could destroy, and its lasers and stanium swords would reduce an army of a million man to a morgue full of corpses. But the Sentry could provide eternal security to the world, and wars need not be fact, Greg's ability to procure breakthroughs in technology would make him famous and bring him great honour, enriching further generations for ages to ocme.
Unfortunately, just before Greg was given a chance to provide his beneficial services to the world, jealous leading scientists with the assistance of police officers broke into his basement to snatch all his equipment and creations under the guise of the charge that Greg was a fugitive wanted by the authorities and that Greg was a thief whole stole equipment that he couldn't afford to buy. Those greedy men just wanted to claim fame and glory using Greg's own creations.
As Greg was being handcuffed by his accusers, the first Sentry burst out and slew all of his accusers brutally. Immediately Greg decided that mankind couldn't be trusted and had to be cleansed in a bloodbath and be reformatted by retribution. He created a series of algorithms that enabled the Sentries to find and hunt down all who could pose a threat to his interests. Thus the Deployment began, with millions of people snatched up by Sentries to be brainwashed or killed cruelly. Greg seized control of a endless supply of brainwashed scientists, lab facilities and materials to continue his campaign of revenge. And once he had consolidated his base of power, millions of Sentries were launched worldwide to cleanse the world of his perceived pestilences. All the militaries of the world used every weapon they had, from experimental laser weapons to nuclear bombs, but Greg used one terrible weapon to subdue the world and bring it to its knees.
In the climatic Ten Hours War, all the naval fleets and armadas of the Anglo-Asian allies combined together to stop the advance of the Sentries, those unstoppable metal humanoids. But the moment their missiles hit the first Sentries, the battle was already lost. Greg had implanted in his fighters the ability to adapt to any attack, be it scorching heat or radiation. Therefore the Sentries could easily develop countermeasures to fight any weapon they came against, and in exactly ten hours, much of the world fell into Greg's grasp.
In his quest for revenge he killed his own father and brother in cold blood, but somehow his mother and Holly Hills, a girl who rejected his romantic advances escaped to join the Resistance. Of his younger brother Manny I don't know what became of him. But the Resistance is crumbling. I have seen with my own eyes how the Sentries strike their hideouts, digging into their underground bunkers to incinerate them right in their beds. The Sentries show no mercy, for they are deployed at the will of their creator, Greg Heffley.
I write this because I wish that there is hope, hope for a better future, hope to make things right, hope to right wrongs and to reverse the damage done. But we have none. And it is all our fault. Our greed, lust and selfishness have resulted in much desolation. We who live in the wastelands are dwindling by the numbers, and it is a matter of time before the Resistance is wiped out. And then Greg will have the world as his footstool. And so, I can only warn the reader-do not ever let down your fellow man, no matter how despicable he may be. The Chancellor Greg may be brutal and cold, but it was we who forced him to become a monster. Our rejection and jeers forced him to choose the worst choices.
I can only wish for a better future that may not come, and I shall only find respite when I draw my dying breath. Perhaps a swift death at the hands of the Sentries should suffice.
Pray for my soul, and do not be disheartened.
