Cobwebs and Life
It was the year 2032. New York and almost the whole entire world had been brought up into the New Age, technology more advanced than any of us had dared to hope. Our democracy had fallen into the hands of the Great Leader, who soon had us with two presidents instead of one. One lived in D.C., another lived somewhere in Seattle, and the Great Leader lived here in New York City. We called the two presidents, our Advisors. The term-President- had been demolished around the year of 2024, just after Congress passed the law banning genetic cloning, due to the surplus of clones walking around, demanding rights.
Our Advisors of 2026 evacuated these clones and sent them to Madagascar, where they eventually adapted and helped the natives there. Somehow, soon after, the U.S. managed to meet with the other high powers of the world to discuss Peace terms. It wasn't long before we had made peace with the world and almost every country in it by the start of 2030. We have had two years of solace so far, and the Earth has been quiet.
But I know this cannot last long. Already, I have managed to uncover plots from our Great Leader's very database, announcing that there were to be surprise attacks on the countries that had been unwilling to make peace with us and the destroying of Madagascar to be rid of the clones, once and for all. The plot was elaborate, explaining every detail down to the very second a Blazon- a nuke so powerful it could destroy a country the size of Washington in just three seconds- would be released on every sight. Of course, when my parents found out, they advised me to not reveal the information to the public, in fear that it may cause a riot of some sort and I would surely be executed by the Street Delegates, who were the most feared of the Great Leader's assassins.
These men prowled the streets of every city, with their long dark trench coats skimming the ground, blending them into their surroundings. Literally. On their feet, they trudged through the dirt and grime, with Neo-Boots, a knee high military machine that could kill a man with on swift kick. They're faces were inked with black flames and the ran with rich leather pants- a type that would allow them to move with grace and agility. The only thing these killers didn't have on their person, was a shirt.
The Great Leader's head general and lead scientists, confirmed that, with the pants, the lack of weight would allow the assassins to gain fast on the criminals of the Nation and take them down, no fight needed. Which was just another reason, why I agreed with my mother and father. So, I kept the information to myself, since I needed my day job to pay for the rent, since I was living with my parents. Another hideous law sent out by our Advisors: You weren't allowed to leave your parents' house until you reached the age of twenty-two.
And, most of all, I couldn't really quit my job, either, since my night job isn't really a job at all. It's more of a hobby, really. But, more on that later.
My name is Lucy Parker. I'm twenty years old and I am the daughter of Spider-Man.