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by FalChromiforme

FalChromiforme . . .
Fog. Not a grand way to start off.

I sat up and got out of bed, making sure that the floor was clear before stepping off. I pulled on a shirt, jeans, and shoes.

Before I went outside, I looked out the window to be sure that there were few animals. None. That being said, in this day and age, few humans even existed. And the ones that did exist were focused on surviving. Information was only important if you were safe.

I stepped outside, testing the air before going out. The climate changed every two days to a week here, not that days mattered. According to “scientists,” the western calendar is out of sync. Welcome to 12014.

I looked around as I headed outside, cursing myself silently. I was unprotected, and truth to tell, your hands didn’t do much for you in this place. Pulchra Novam orbem. Yeah right, more like Diabolum Hospitio.

Before I had walked fifteen feet, a plain, undecorated arrow came flying my way. Arrows? Had we run out of gun ammo that fast?

“Zenon! Cruel Zenon! Zenon d’Elee! M’as-tu perce de cette fleche ailee!” I called. Laughing ensued, from the shooter and from me.

I shook my head. Zeno, my friend, the archer. He would’ve hit me, but it was foggy. Nobody could aim in fog.

“Well, if it isn’t Asimov!” Zeno called

“I noticed we were all out of ammo!” I called back.

“No, we’re reserving it because of the fog.” came the reply. I nodded, figuring that that was a good enough reason to hold back.

I pulled out a wheel lock pistol, firing three times into the distance behind me. A collapsing noise. There. Another broken-down house, another reason that scavengers wouldn’t get my stuff. I would have to rebuild after We were done, but it was well worth it.

I holstered the wheel lock. I went over and found my horse, checking its health before mounting it. Uranium deposits. Miners could get crazy.

I worked a little while away, at the Nova’s capital city (one of two) Zodiac. the other one, Columbia, was situated two or three miles away. All of the land on this small continent was the country of Nova. There were resources galore, but only the city members had access to them. In between the cities were small encampments like ours, but none were official cities.

“Zeno! Edgar! Edwin! Dante!” I called. Zeno. Edgar Allen Poe. Erwin Rommel. Dante Alighieri. All famous people. Zeno and I were the only ones who had actually had to change our names. Well, our first names, although Zeno had no last name. The others may have had to change around their last names. But all of us were named after famous people, partially because we had a habit of causing trouble, and nobody knew our real names, so nobody could track us.

Society (if it should be called that anymore) called us domestic terrorists. We thought of ourselves as mere mischief-makers. A little trouble here and there was normal, so why shouldn’t everybody have to face it, and not just us?


I walked into the city, bracing myself for the noise, commotion, and general craziness of Nova. None of it came. I was astounded. At ten o’clock (approximately) in the morning?

My eyes widened. I pulled on a facemask and breather, pulling my long-sleeved shirt down over my arms and making sure that my gloves were secure. Taking slow, quiet breaths, I walked through the alleyways of the city, being careful to avoid the main streets.

This had only happened twice before. Once, when a gang went on a mass-murdering-spree, and once when an airborne virus had spread city-wide. That being said, if it was a virus, it may not be airborne. It could be spread by parasites, mosquitoes, ticks, or even a simple touch.

I took the bomb I was carrying out of my jacket. I snuck over to the capitol building, gave a small prayer, went inside, and set the bomb inside. Then I snuck back out, pressed the button on the remote, and waited.

An explosion, but no debris came flying down the street. Damn Archimedes, he didn’t tell me that I had to put the setting on the bomb to Obliterate instead of Destroy. Well, such is life.

I went up to the partially-crumbled building and looked at the space where the doors had been. On it was a sign that said QUARANTINE STATUS INFLICTED ON ZODIAC. PURPOSE:

but there was nothing else~ the rest had been spray painted over with the words THE DEAD LIVE. RUN, WHILE YOU LIVE.
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