Welcome to the Great State of Libnez! Sir Cornelius Beck
You have stepped into the worlds greatest utopia to ever roam the world.
Here, as our ancestors, you will find your dreams come true before your eyes.
As instated by Sir Cornelius Beck himself, every year there is a picking of your future string of jobs, what area you will live in and where you will get your schooling.
Have Pride in Libnez,
Being the busboy at Burger Boy wasn't too bad, honestly.
That's nowhere near what this story is about. Unless, you want to stop reading now and go get yourself a tasty burger from one of our many locations around the state. All five to be exact.
Our state wasn't that big or maybe it was, there was really no way of knowing beyond what we called the ring of protection, which was just a large forested area that just so happened to create a ring around the city.
We've always been taught two things while growing up:
Don't ask what's outside our wonderful state and don't question the authority.
Our state, the great state of Libnez, was surrounded by green fields, pastures, and dense forests that no one was allowed to venture into; and whoever did, was just… forgotten, as if they never existed at all. No funerals, no offerings, not even a small wail from the family they were from.
Only the "new workers generation", as said by Sir Cornelius Beck, had a bit of wonder of what happened to them, but only for a moment.
Cornelius was the first, and only, dictator of Libnez.
He had won against our old president, Feliks Ottun by what seemed like thousands.
The "new workers generation", or anyone under twenty, whispered in the darkest of sewers how he must have rigged it or better yet, killed Feliks out of anger for how 10% of his land was taken so that our industries could continue to grow and prosper.
No one knew if it was true or just hogwash, but we all knew to be quiet about it.
Cornelius had eyes and ears of a jackelern, one of our few native species. Guards walked the cities every day and night, eying the citizens as if they were going to take out their nearest weapon and run to the Silver Line where our beloved dictator sat and probably ate all the Yellow Lume he could manage.
Despite everything, Libnez looks extraordinary as you explore deeper and deeper into its charm.
Clear blue skies, waterfalls, towering sky-scrapers that reach even beyond the clouds, pearly white streets that lead into immensely green and perfect lawns with a granite wall surrounding a quiet crème house with a few children.
That was the problem.
Everything was so perfect.
No one fought, or at least in broad daylight or within anyone's range of hearing, there were no pest or pet problems, the livestock were never attacked, food never seemed to be too short, while you could go to a market and buy everlasting Blue Fleetings meat for only seven poliks.
After living there for presumably all of your life, you get used to all the perfections. All of the quiet streets you walk down where everyone says a curt hello before going onto their job.
Life was boring, tedious, and repetitive.
Never did one fail out of schooling or burn a house down by accident; there were no grand ceremonies or parties held once a month, unless you consider having a toast for Cornelius a party.
We all wore colour organized uniforms at school, except for purple of course, for Cornelius couldn't stand the thought of having purple around him.
That's where we get to me, Joyce Lombardi.
Not only was I a "regular" 17 year old, I was also part time worker at Burger Boy to buy a few things of my own such as gears, a new battery for my lanlight, and maybe save a few for some chocolates just in case I get asked to the school outing.
Though, that's very unlikely seeing as you could barely find who you came with in the ocean of blues and whites.
Even if I was to go, I wouldn't have seen many people I actually talk to. I kept to myself whenever I could because no one would take my paranoia of the state and what was going on.
Though, it might also be my obsession with what my great-great grandparent's called steam punk.
Unfortunately, there was nothing but their letters and pictures left of what it was. None of the dictionaries or handheld hand-gnos knew what it was either.
Though, hand-gno's only give you what's the popular answer for your question or a guess. If you asked what the answer to your homework was, it would be able to tell you to go look it up in a book rather than ask it.
It's also how people get into trouble.