No… this isn't a new story.

Except that it is. Why do I keep starting LuxMold multichapters it has about 5 shippers? Because they're fun to write, I guess, and I mean, crack ships have gotten pretty popular in the hetalia fandom before, so this could be the start of something great, which I've been saying for about 3 years now lol.

Also it's an atompunk and I just love atompunk. What is atompunk? Okay, well you know how steampunk is Victorian-inspired sci-fi? And dieselpunk is interwar period-inspired sci-fi? Well atompunk's post-WW2 scifi. Also known as retro sci-fi.

I have finished the first two chapters, given that the first one is rather short and doesn't tell an awful lot about the main characters. So the second one should be up soon. This is set in a fantasy world that may or may not be based on real history, or alternate history, that is.

Okay, if I've caught your attention thus far, I should probably give out a few warnings: this story contains a lot of illness and death, and some pretty graphic descriptions of radiation poisoning. As the plot is currently missing some vital parts [when is it ever not?], more warnings may need to be added.

Still, please enjoy!

...

Humans were, in many ways, mammalian cockroaches.

This is by no means a deliberate attempt to cause offense, or paint humanity in a bad light. After all, our actions can speak for themselves on that matter, both in agreement and disagreement. We're complex like that, are we not? Whether or not humans are inherently good or evil as a collective is a question with no straight answer, and one for another day. It has nothing to do with how they- we- are like cockroaches.

This is merely an observation.

Of course, there are some pretty significant differences between humans and cockroaches, outside of biology. Step on a cockroach and you'll kill it, end of smelly roach. Step on a human and they'll get up with a vengeance, maybe know you down to step on. Kill a cockroach, others will eat it's dead body. Kill a human and you become a monster in the eyes of other humans. That being said, you can kill either and there'll still be millions left to wipe out. Chances are you'll never wipe out either of them, though if one were to become extinct, my money's on the humans.

The limits you can push a cockroach to are far greater than the limits humans can survive, after all, cockroaches have adapted to survive mass extinction after mass extinction. We're a far newer species, and have much to learn about perseverance.

Then there's the topic of nuclear fallout. Cockroaches can survive exposure to far greater levels of nuclear radiation than humans, that is true and not a myth, but humans have their own ways to survive. Little ingenious ways. Their own technologies to both create destruction and survive it, because a cockroach could never build a bomb powerful enough to reduce living things to burning dust, could never have such politics that could divide the world into a mess of paranoia and arms races that manifest itself into a destruction even cockroaches couldn't survive.

But the humans?

The politicians and world leaders could hide in the private bunkers as if they weren't the ones responsible, molding and shaping their guilt into duty and reasoning, whilst the rest clung to the edges and underground and prayed and hoped. So many died that the survivors were barely enough to fill a tiny, fortified city, raised from the air by a network of steel beams and shrouded in illusion. This was the city of Biniveau, a city of haves and have-nots, divided in two because the survivors could never learn their lessons, only forget. The division was so strong there might have been two cities, one of prosperity and luxury and space, Uachtarach, and one a network of crowded staircases, smoke and cramped homes, Iochtarach, or the slums.

And this is where our heroes reside: a boy of luxury with a dark secret, and a boy of poverty, determined to become a light in his dark world.

But whilst Biniveau was intact, they could never meet and their story together could never start.

…

It was all routine by now.

Arthur glanced over at his colleague, straightening his uniform as he glared at the reflection of his locker. Ludwig was hard to understand at the best of times, and Arthur couldn't help but ponder what he was thinking. Was it how his uniform wasn't as immaculate as he'd like, or was he simply thinking about puppies? Both were a possibility with Ludwig.

"Ready, old boy?" he asked, his words laced with the tiniest traces of impatience.

"I believe so," Ludwig sighed, finally pulling himself away from his reflection. "Don't want to be late."

"That would be tragic." Maybe Arthur liked to mock Ludwig, in subtle ways the man would never pick up on. It was never with a malicious intent though, just simply because he found Ludwig's mannerisms amusing. Endearing, even.

"Indeed, so we have to hurry." Ludwig pushed past him, placing his gask mask over his face as Arthur followed.

So few people could say they've seen what Arthur and Ludwig had seen. That was the great joy of this job. People just didn't go outside anymore, not since the war, and 50 years later the world was still uninhabitable.

The pair- them along with the rest of the patrol guards- knew one malfunctioning piece of equipment could spell death. The pre-flight checks could take up to half an hour, though Arthur for one didn't mind if it meant they'd know if their ship's window was showing signs of cracks or if their laser guns were faulty. He didn't even know why they needed guns; it wasn't like there was anything left out there. Still, better safe than sorry, the young man always said.

The checks themselves went as smoothly as can be, and soon enough Arthur was behind the joystick, Ludwig flicking buttons from the co-pilot's chair. Their ship closely resembled a car, besides the two large wings protruding from either side and the entire metal body was painted grey. There was one window: a large dome covering their heads with thick glass, and their uniforms were hidden under thick radiation suits. Arthur tapped his gas mask to make sure the thing was still circulating before the ship started moving forward along the runway. This was it.

Arthur couldn't help still being excited about these patrols after all this time, deep down. After all, so few people got to experience what he did, and he for one loved the feeling of flying: the weightlessness of it all; the tumble in his stomach as he dipped and dived; the radiant views for miles and miles around.

It was scary too, a world devoid of life.

He was grateful for Ludwig's company, because it could get pretty lonely being the only human around.

"Ready?" he called, and just saw Ludwig nod before they took off into the wasteland.

...

I'm sure anyone who knows me probably wasn't expecting Ludwig to show up, given that I've made my dislike of him no secret. But I want to give the characters I'm not so fond of a chance, and practice writing different personalities. And Ludwig does have an interesting personality, which makes me sad that I dislike him.

Not that many people will last long in this story, mwahaha!

Also, the credit for the idea of a raised city with two levels goes to tumblr user peteradnan, so thanks to them for actually getting a setting sorted.

Another thing, this story was also heavily inspired by the music of an Atompunk Opera: the New Albion Guide to Analogue Consciousness. Not the plot, since I don't understand it, but 100% the music.

Anyway, I hope you like the start of this, and if you do, please leave some feedback so I know if I should continue, because it's hard to tell if stories like these are worth the time put into them.