Darkness and rubble. Just darkness and rubble.
All that remains of a once proud civilization. A civilization which once
lorded over the people of this enslaved prison world. Some may have
perceived their regime as evil, but evil is often only a matter of
perspective.
The end of this civilization began upon the arrival of two strangers to the world. Two figures silhouetted against the security lights of the compound. One, a small man, a hat and umbrella with its question mark handle framed against the halo of white light cutting the darkness, which fled to seek sanctuary in the shadow of this man. The other a girl, her hair tied into a long tail, throwing a cylindrical object from the palm of her hand, up and down with the precise timing of clockwork in her motions. She sidestepped speedily alongside her companion; enthusiastic for whatever he had planned for his visit to this oppressed world. They walk away from the box that had somehow appeared in the ring of brightness rushing forth from its source at the heights of the compound walls, now causing an oblong column of blackness in the path of the beam of dazzling whiteness. He pointed towards the source of the light, which stood high above their unimposing shortness. She pulled something from the cylinder and threw it towards the structure, which beamed the light towards them at such intensity that the pair had to cover their eyes to gain even an approximation of its location. They both ran into the shadows. A flash of light ironically heralded the street's descent into darkness...
Morning. From the shadows, a light emanated. Not the light of oppression that had previously shone forcefully along its path, but the light of a new dawn. A new age. The city burned. The curse of the rulers had been cured, the prisoners freed. The planet was free. But this planet was one better restrained. The enslaved, innocent captives were not the chained angels, captured and broken, but the true villains of the world, captured to contain their penchant for violence and broken to crumble their resistance against the authority. Flames licked around the edges of the city, its proud spires and lowly roofs alike being consumed by the fire of freedom. This was now a world of loathing, a world of no rules. And the inhabitants were rebelling. The rulers had fled, so now the planet took the full force of the unrestrained anger and madness. The pair returned to the box, which now shone a radiant blue in the light of dawn. The man's straw had tucked dejectedly under his arm, the girl dragging her feet through the dust and ash, which now gathered upon the once litter-less streets. They entered the box, which soon vanished into the air, with a noise that seemed to protest about being taken from a world falling apart with violence and anarchy, not wanting to leave a world where its owner had caused this madness. A building crumbled onto the spot where the box had once stood, as if to check that the box had gone. Bidding it an ungrateful farewell with its ten heavy concrete floors. The remains of the structure and of the people inside blazed, the fire spreading as if to claim the city lest the new rulers of the world claim it first. There was never a trace of the box, the man or the girl from here onwards. They were no longer welcome amongst the destruction they caused, be it inadvertent or deliberate.
Some things are better left undone. This was certainly one of them.
The end of this civilization began upon the arrival of two strangers to the world. Two figures silhouetted against the security lights of the compound. One, a small man, a hat and umbrella with its question mark handle framed against the halo of white light cutting the darkness, which fled to seek sanctuary in the shadow of this man. The other a girl, her hair tied into a long tail, throwing a cylindrical object from the palm of her hand, up and down with the precise timing of clockwork in her motions. She sidestepped speedily alongside her companion; enthusiastic for whatever he had planned for his visit to this oppressed world. They walk away from the box that had somehow appeared in the ring of brightness rushing forth from its source at the heights of the compound walls, now causing an oblong column of blackness in the path of the beam of dazzling whiteness. He pointed towards the source of the light, which stood high above their unimposing shortness. She pulled something from the cylinder and threw it towards the structure, which beamed the light towards them at such intensity that the pair had to cover their eyes to gain even an approximation of its location. They both ran into the shadows. A flash of light ironically heralded the street's descent into darkness...
Morning. From the shadows, a light emanated. Not the light of oppression that had previously shone forcefully along its path, but the light of a new dawn. A new age. The city burned. The curse of the rulers had been cured, the prisoners freed. The planet was free. But this planet was one better restrained. The enslaved, innocent captives were not the chained angels, captured and broken, but the true villains of the world, captured to contain their penchant for violence and broken to crumble their resistance against the authority. Flames licked around the edges of the city, its proud spires and lowly roofs alike being consumed by the fire of freedom. This was now a world of loathing, a world of no rules. And the inhabitants were rebelling. The rulers had fled, so now the planet took the full force of the unrestrained anger and madness. The pair returned to the box, which now shone a radiant blue in the light of dawn. The man's straw had tucked dejectedly under his arm, the girl dragging her feet through the dust and ash, which now gathered upon the once litter-less streets. They entered the box, which soon vanished into the air, with a noise that seemed to protest about being taken from a world falling apart with violence and anarchy, not wanting to leave a world where its owner had caused this madness. A building crumbled onto the spot where the box had once stood, as if to check that the box had gone. Bidding it an ungrateful farewell with its ten heavy concrete floors. The remains of the structure and of the people inside blazed, the fire spreading as if to claim the city lest the new rulers of the world claim it first. There was never a trace of the box, the man or the girl from here onwards. They were no longer welcome amongst the destruction they caused, be it inadvertent or deliberate.
Some things are better left undone. This was certainly one of them.