2064, the world is charred, a lifeless ball of rock, scoured by horrible creatures sent to destroy of the Wielders and the Created. They search for one last Wielder they can smell him, they have his family, his squadron, he knows it. Yet, he does not give up. He knows that he is the final chance against them.

San Antonio, Texas. 2014. I lie in bed staring at the ceiling above my head. I slowly turn my head to the clock next to me.

"9:32" I say. I begin to turn back onto my pillow when I hear a knock on my bedroom door. I sit up

"Yeah?" I call.

"HEY!" Comes the voice of SCP-173

"Get up, its nine thirty and breakfast is ready."

"Ok" I call back. I yawn and stretch, I start to stand up when a searing pain jolts down my back. I gasp and flinch.

"I must have slept on my back funny." I think to myself. I slowly stretch my back and get up. I shuffle over to my dresser drawer and pull out a random shirt and pair of shorts. I put them on and yawn. "Even 9:30 is too early to be awake." I say. I gingerly lay back onto my bed and begin to doze off into peacefulness. My name is Caleb and I am the Wielder of the Omega Squadron. Allow me to explain what I mean. All fictional characters are split up into different squadrons. We (well, not me I'm MOSTLY human) were brought into reality by the Vivificantern. The Vivificantern is part mechanical and part organic and it brings all fictional characters into existence, normally many years before they were "created" by humans. In order to prevent "panic" we split everyone into groups called Squadrons. I am the Wielder for the Omega Squadron. Wielders are normal humans but have the ability to control a certain material and morph and change it to their will. I have two: diamond, and plasma. That is basically the general gist of my world. I was put into the Omega Squadron when I was 5 months old and have been here ever since. My Squadron consists of anything that could fall into the "horror" category, and My Little Pony. I know, great contrast. But now I am 14 and not wanting to get up. I lie there for a few minutes and think until 173 bangs on my door again.

"Dude seriously! Hurry up!" he shouts from behind the door.

"Alright! Alright! I'm coming!" Sadly, they are not totally the same from their fictional "counterparts". They all are sentient and they all can talk, despite the fact that they shouldn't be able to otherwise. I get up and walk towards the door. When I approach it, it splits sideways and opens up to the main room. Our base is underground and is one GIANT room with three different levels of doors which lead to everyone else's rooms. Mine is on the second floor. I peer down towards the kitchen/dining room part of the base. Most of us are there and waiting for breakfast,

"What are we having?" I ask turning towards 173

"Some apple cinnamon turnover that Pinkie made." Groaned 173 making a disgusted face.

"We have some kind of pastry almost every day for breakfast." He sighs

"I just wish we could have something different."

"Hey, I don't mind." I say to him.

"That's because she's your girlfriend." He scowls.

"IS NOT!" I retort. 173 smiles smugly. Teasing and arguing are his two favorite sports.

"Is to!"

"Is not!"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah!" Both of us argue all the way to the table.