French Alps, March 19, 2126, around seven o'clock in the morning.
A west wind swept across the plains, devoid of any master, parched by the relentless heatwave. Only the dense woods remained, towering far higher than the memory of men could reach, solitary survivors amidst the deserted meadows. From their creaking tops, exasperated whistles of gusts rose, like bitter sobs carried by the winds. Resembling fine scoria, deep black dust escaped from the branches, revealing the aerial currents with a dark gleam. The immaculate landscape bared itself, stripping down to better clothe itself with the whirlwinds of wind that swept over it.
The sun slowly rose from its celestial chambers, its first rays illuminating a grand spectacle. Between shadow and light, the deserted meadows came alive, vibrating with newfound energy. Waves of dust formed, rising in turbulent currents like raging seas crashing against the upright wood reefs in their path. As dawn unveiled itself, the clouds descended, dissipating like spray in the wind. A few swirls still gracefully danced on the plains, like ballerinas on a dance floor. Then, little by little, the storm calmed, the dancers lost their footing. The triumphant cries of birds echoed, surpassing the whispers of the wind, and the squeaks of rodents replaced the crackling of trunks. The day seemed to appease Aeolus, and the forest slowly awoke from its slumber.
But on this spring equinox day, it was neither the heat nor the winds to be feared. Amidst the harmony of nature's cries, a discordant rumble rose, breaking the surrounding tranquility.
A cloud of sand rushed into the valley, leaving two deep furrows in its wake. At the other end, dilapidated motorcycles made their way through the rocks. Their blackened bodies were covered in a thin layer of dust, sprinkled with glimmers that revealed the shiny metal beneath the decaying blue paint. The machines creaked and squealed. Behind imposing helmets, the riders stood on wide leather saddlebags that protruded from the sides of the vehicles. The suspensions sagged under their weight, causing the footrests to scrape against the ground at each turn. They headed straight ahead, following a decomposed old road.
As they crossed the heart of the deserted plain, a sandy mist formed behind them, engulfing the horizon. From this mist emerged a deafening tumult of roaring engines, hysterical voices, and shrill horns. A motley troop set off in pursuit. In an infernal cacophony, strange and dilapidated machines emerged from the clouds of dust, dispersing in a disorderly manner, dangerously approaching the fleeing ones who, burdened by their load, struggled to distance themselves. Soon, the clinking of metal resonated beside them. Helplessly, they watched the machines sneak up beside them. Showers of sparks burst from under their wheels as they were forced to veer westward, toward the trees.
A new group emerged on their left, charging straight at them. With a simple nod of their heads, the two fugitives separated, each leading a swarm of steel in their wake. Suddenly, crimson streaks erupted, setting the ground ablaze beneath their wheels. With a quick glance, they realized that the cohort was brandishing their weapons. However, there was a certain hesitation in their shots, focusing on the vehicles. Seizing this opportunity, they rushed toward the trees, engines roaring at full throttle, propelling them towards the foliage. As they reached about thirty meters from the edge, a smoking wheel rose into the air, carrying the motorcycle and its rider with it. The rider flailed his arms as if trying to grasp onto the air. Time seemed to stand still.
When young Norman opened his eyes, he found himself three meters off the ground. The air was infused with a smell of burnt matter, accompanied by a strange tangy flavor. His body felt as heavy as a ton, while an unknown pressure oppressed every muscle. Dumbfounded, both relieved to be alive and petrified by the situation, he looked down. His charred motorcycle floated beneath his feet without a single flame emanating from it. It remained motionless, just like him and his assailants below. Through the chipped visors of their helmets, he could discern panicked expressions. They all seemed frozen, intensely fixated on something. He followed their mesmerized gazes until he discovered the source of their terror.
His saddlebag floated a few fathoms away, wide open, its blackened leather frozen in a grimace of pain. The laser beam had melted the minerals it contained, releasing a stream of molten metal through the gaping hole, motionless. Norman felt the growing concern within him, but he remembered the professor's words: "Don't panic, move slowly and with flexibility." He tensed all his muscles, scratching the oppressing air with his fingertips. The Ether slipped through his hands, resembling sand or snow. Gradually, he managed to free his arms and began moving with slow and delicate strokes. Every movement was laborious, as if struggling in quicksand or an avalanche. Finally, he reached the saddlebag.
Despite all his efforts, nothing seemed to work. Norman pulled with all his might in every direction, but the bag remained motionless. Helpless, he cast a final regretful glance at the rare precious metals he had labored so hard to extract, then resigned himself to return to the ground. After long minutes of struggle, he finally touched the soil. The mysterious force that hindered him still slowed his movements, but at least his head was in the right place.
It was then that he fully realized the strangeness of the situation. A dozen terrified eyes stared at him with incomprehension. They could no longer see the sky above them, nor even the horizon. In reality, beyond about twenty meters, there was nothing. Yet, the light of dawn still bathed them, creating a strange aura around them. The shadows seemed frozen, as if the light itself was trapped with them.
He had no idea of the amount of Ether contained in that meteorite. He had to hurry to get out of there before the air ceased to move. Casting a final sorrowful glance at the group, who began silently suffocating, he headed toward the void that stretched behind them. Despite years of avoiding getting caught in dark matter, instinct resurfaced, swiftly bringing him to the wall of infinity. Everything now depended on not hesitating. Holding his breath, he let himself be carried away. He had the strange sensation of falling in slow motion, as if time itself was distorting, but Norman enjoyed this feeling of letting go.
Suddenly, gravity pulled him in accompanied by the deafening noise from outside. The impact with the ground was even harsher. Rising with difficulty, his face blackened with dust, Norman felt a hand grab his arm. As he lifted his head, he found himself face to face with Lloyd, who stared at him in astonishment through his raised visor. His jacket was stained with blood, and he tightly gripped his laser rifle in his free hand. Lloyd shook his head upon seeing Norman's reaction to the blood, as if to say, "It's not mine." With a wave of his hand, he pointed towards the edge of the trees that stretched just a stride away. Without hesitation, he dashed in that direction, and Norman followed suit.
Chaos reigned everywhere in the plain, and those who had managed to escape stood helplessly around the intangible sphere. Lloyd's motorcycle lay a little further, amidst smoking bodies. They passed them to find themselves facing the vast forest. Without looking back, they delved into the branches. Almost total darkness enveloped them, swallowing the world only to regurgitate it at the feet of the imprudent. The voices that had been lost in the valley behind them found no echo. No fool dared to follow them into the labyrinth of branches.
Under the tree canopy, a hushed calm prevailed, while monumental trunks rose beyond the infinite darkness. Nascent vegetation dotted the ground, and no path, road, or stream marked their path. They rushed, like dancing devils, towards the west, venturing deeper and deeper. The rows of trunks closed in, and nature awoke. Growls, barks, and moans disturbed the silence, concealed by the mist that animated the forest.
Their minds were restless, ready to confront monsters and mutants. Each new grayish patch fed their fears, thickening and becoming more menacing. However, none of the strange creatures that populated these woods dared to approach them. The glowing eyes they discerned in the mist kept a respectable distance, attentively observing their progress.
These silent companions accompanied them for several kilometers until the trees began to thin. The valley stretched out before them, bathed in the emerging light of day. Mysterious bird songs filled the air, and the branches took on an amber hue. The breath of the wind regained some of its power, dissipating the impenetrable layer of mist covering the ground.
Beyond the last trunks, a steep slope emerged, obscuring the horizon. They emerged from the forest, exhausted. They had galloped for nearly three hours, their tendons on the verge of rupture. Lloyd hadn't uttered a word during the journey, contenting himself with casting fleeting glances at Norman.
They struggled to climb up to the ridge. The rocks, covered in dust, appeared as black as infinite space, giving them the impression of climbing into emptiness. Upon reaching the top, they discovered a wooded valley stretching as far as the eye could see, only a few kilometers wide. At the end of this natural funnel, the surface of the lake near their camp glittered. Another half-day's walk still separated them from the refuge. Out of breath, they lay down for a moment, concealed behind imposing rocks with nebulous contours.
Lloyd took a deep breath, filling his lungs with fresh air. Then, he fixed his remaining eye on Norman and stared intensely. Lloyd finally spoke, breaking the silence that had persisted since their morning chase. His tone was calm and surgical, a facet of his personality that Norman had never truly known.
"What kind of sorcery did you make us experience?" he asked.
Norman knew this question would eventually be asked, after all, it wasn't common for someone to escape from an eternity bubble, but he had hoped for a little more time before having this conversation. To avoid the subject, he simply replied, "Are you talking about earlier? It was nothing, just luck."
Lloyd responded with frustration, "Just luck... Norm, I've never seen anyone escape from those things. And even after what happened, I'm not even sure of what I saw!"
Norman then said to him, "Lloyd, nothing happened. Forget what you think you saw, it's better for both of us..."
Exasperated, Lloyd cut him off sharply, "What are you talking about, damn it! You disappeared in there! I thought you were dead... I avenged you, over and over... And then, you just reappear like that, as if nothing happened, just minutes after being swallowed by dark matter. And on top of that, you have the nerve to ask me to overlook it, to act like nothing happened. You can't be serious..."
He poured out his words in one go, as if wanting to rid himself of them. Lloyd's gaze was hard, but Norman could perceive the sadness in his voice. He felt despicable in the face of his friend's distress, but he couldn't confess his reality to him. Not now. Not like this. So, he attempted a compromise.
"You're right, Lloyd," he said in a calm voice. "You deserve answers. Answers that I can't give you. I'm deeply sorry. Because I'm just as in the dark as you are. All I can say is that I'm different."
He spoke those words with all the sincerity he could muster, and Lloyd seemed to accept this truth. His gaze softened, he straightened up, and gazed at the horizon.
"Fine, then we'd better get going if we want to reach the camp before nightfall," he concluded, resuming the walk.
Norman also got up and followed Lloyd on the path that wound through the impenetrable rocks. The latter called out without turning back, "Norm, we're not done. You're going to have to tell me everything, from beginning to end."
Norman sighed. "I know."
To their great surprise, the descent proved to be easy. A narrow passage remained, skirting the edge of the trees. Though steep, it led them straight into the valley. Once they reached the bottom, it seemed as if fate was conspiring against them. All traces of a path had disappeared, leaving behind scattered remnants of a bygone time. Luxuriant vegetation imposed itself everywhere, concealing the trails. Robust ferns obstructed their view, tree trunks cluttered their path. They had to blindly forge ahead, with the west as their only reference point, where the valley came to an end.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Thus, step by step, they delved into the vegetal corridor, feeling their way through, following the shreds of road that presented themselves to them. The valley was enveloped in a peculiar darkness, a profound blackness that seemed to permeate every element. The tree trunks displayed dark marbling, their rough bark giving the impression of being ink stained. As they progressed, the contorted forms of the vegetation revealed themselves. Sinister tendrils hung from the treetops, grasping at anything within their reach. Plants with serrated leaves emerged from the ground, forming thorny protrusions. Tentacle-like roots stretched across the ground, resembling serpents in search of prey.
Each step was a battle against the entangled vegetation that fought to keep them captive. Amidst this nightmarish vegetation, the strange and fascinating coexisted. The surrounding light drowned in the abysses of smooth, black foliage from bushes whose branches bent, as if to welcome or ensnare them. Birds with faded feathers and discordant songs flew through the air, their wings fluttering sporadically. Imposing insects with membranous wings and dark carapaces buzzed around them, creating a dissonant symphony. The nature of this place was both unsettling and captivating, a meeting of the grotesque and the wondrous.
After hours of effort and perseverance, the valley began to show signs of change. The black trees became less dense, allowing glimpses of daylight through their twisted silhouettes. Robust ferns gave way to taller, lighter grasses. Finally, the horizon closed behind the walls of a small town. Collapsed buildings stood before them, silent witnesses of a bygone era.
Norman and Lloyd entered the deserted streets of the devastated town with soft footsteps. The scorching sun reached its zenith, casting its merciless rays upon the dilapidated ruins. A suffocating heat enveloped the already somber and desolate atmosphere.
The two friends made rapid progress, their footsteps echoing in an oppressive silence. Every detail bore witness to the violence of past events. Broken windows scattered as lifeless fragments; gutted facades groaned under the weight of painful memories. Black dust covered everything, forming a thick layer that seemed to suffocate the last sparks of life. Craters dotted the ground, holding the memory of meteoric rains that had destroyed the hope and prosperity of the past.
Norman and Lloyd advanced amidst growing melancholy, allowing themselves to be engulfed by the sinister ambiance that pervaded the deserted streets. They imagined the cheerful voices that could have animated these places, the laughter of children echoing in the courtyards, the conversations rising from the cafes. But all of that was now nothing more than a distant echo, muffled by tragedy. Their presence felt out of place, as if every step they took desecrated the memory of those trapped here.
Suddenly, distant voices were heard, breaking the silence. Warrior screams rose from nowhere and everywhere at once. Norman and Lloyd froze, their gazes meeting, filled with fear and determination. Without a word, they hid behind the dilapidated facades, seeking refuge in the shadows. Their heartbeats quickened as the voices drew closer, intensifying until they resonated within their own chests. A blinding flash tore through the horizon, followed by the trail of a flare shooting up, tinting the sky with a red smoke.
"Hey kid, over here." called Lloyd. Norman saw him disappear into the jaws of a crevasse. Norman followed him inside the building. The smell of decaying wood and rot tightened his throat. He found himself in the bedroom of a small apartment. A dilapidated bed stood in the middle of the room, open suitcases lay on the floor, their contents scattered around them. Under a sheet, a human form lay at rest. Norman grimaced. "Hurry up, kid." Lloyd urged from the other room. Turning away from the corpse, Norman hurried to join him. The bedroom opened into a hallway that led to the dining room where Lloyd was waiting. He pointed to an opening in the wall, once occupied by a glass bay window. The glass cracked beneath their feet as they rushed into the narrow-overgrown garden adjacent to it. They squeezed through the decaying wood of the fence and found themselves in a narrow alleyway.
"That way." Lloyd decided with a determined tone. They sprinted to the right, descending the street to reach a wide avenue. Barely had they taken a few steps when the sound of buzzing engines reverberated between the crumbling facades. Metallic clamor rose from the end of the street, mingled with angry voices drowned in the roar of engines. Wrecks strewn across the road hindered the arrival of reinforcements.
"On foot, we don't stand a chance!" exclaimed Lloyd in frustration. "We need to hide!" Norman objected, "Hide? Lloyd, there are only ruins here!"
But Lloyd didn't bother to respond. He was already darting towards the mouth of the street, skillfully zigzagging between crumpled sheets of metal. Norman followed him as best he could, his legs carrying him at a speed he never would have believed possible. The cries behind them grew louder, fueling their fear. They raced towards a junction, where the distant screeching of tires echoed. At any moment, they expected to see the deadly vehicles of their pursuers emerge. Lloyd crossed the intersection, with Norman on his heels, and they found themselves on the other side, bordered by warehouses that lined the road. Gunshots stained the pavement. About a hundred meters away, a group of armed motorcyclists maneuvered through the debris. A volley of projectiles whizzed past their ears, violently hitting a sheet of metal nearby. Hurriedly, they rushed through the smoking opening.
The sudden darkness disoriented them. They groped their way forward, making their way among the carcasses of dismantled machines. Soon, hurried whispers followed them inside. In absolute silence, they hid in a corner, leaning against the cold hull of a motorboat. The small armed group, disturbed by the ambient darkness, advanced cautiously. Norman, whose eyes were starting to adjust to the lack of light, scanned the warehouse, searching for an exit. None presented itself, except for a massive beam blocking the only way out. However, he noticed a thick chain wrapped around a pulley before disappearing into the ceiling. It held something, a dark and massive shape. Norman tapped Lloyd's shoulder, silently pointing at the mechanism.
Leaving his hiding spot, Norman discreetly made his way towards the pulley but accidentally stumbled over a toolbox lying on the ground. Hasty footsteps responded to the commotion. Trying to create a diversion, Lloyd yelled at the top of his lungs. The assailants, taken by surprise, rushed haphazardly towards his position. As the first weapons appeared before him, Lloyd threw himself to the ground, covering his head with his hands. A metallic clatter filled the room.
In a thunderous uproar, a pleasure boat crashed into the armed group. Dust filled the space, masking the groans and complaints. Ignoring the damage caused, they quickly traversed the warehouse, pushing with all their might against the imposing beam, which eventually gave way. With a powerful shoulder thrust, the door swung open, flooding them with light. The midday sun projected its pale rays through the hazy sky. Disoriented, they scrutinized the ends of the road, one after the other. They no longer knew where they were or which direction to take. The roar of engines resumed, filling the entire town with mechanical screams. Randomly, they decided to go up the road to the right.
It was only when they approached a new group that they realized their mistake. In this deserted street, fleeing was no longer an option. Lloyd slid his rifle off his shoulder, grabbed Norman by the arm, and pulled him behind the rusted remains of a van.
"You still have your weapon?" he asked, hurriedly.
"Um, yeah, I think so." Norman replied, rummaging through his backpack. He pulled out a strange device with a cracked casing, revealing homemade machinery. Thin mirrors opened to a focal point too wide for its notch. The beam guide was twisted and pathetically tilted to the left. A radiation amplifier held some semblance of coherence. The Aether reservoir was held against the stock by a simple piece of tape, and the battery hung awkwardly on the side of the contraption. Lloyd groaned at the state of the staser.
The engines drew closer, sweat trickling down their foreheads. The vehicles passed by without noticing them. They watched as they parked in front of the warehouse they had just left. Without wasting a second, Lloyd started moving. Instead of moving away, he rushed towards the stationary vehicles. With a swift stab, he split the dashboard of the closest one and extracted a bundle of wires. His trained eye took barely a second to locate the starter wires. With a skilled gesture, he stripped them and began to connect them. The electric motor roared to life. Without waiting, he jumped onto the seat. His foot pressed the pedal, and he raced towards Norman, who joined him in the vehicle.
They fled at full speed, racing up the road, weaving between wrecks and craters. A new intersection appeared, where the road merged with a wide, open axis stretching to the west. Without slowing down, they entered it. A few minutes later, the city limits came into view, blocked by a barricade of cars. Masked figures seemed to be waiting for them. Lloyd attempted to turn, but piles of scrap metal blocked the adjacent streets, as if intentionally placed there.
Then, the motorcycle abruptly braked and executed a U-turn, but new assailants were already charging at them from behind, perched on makeshift contraptions cobbled together from disparate parts. They had been driven into a trap like prey.
Three bikers broke away from the cohort and approached them, weapons in hand. Laughter could be heard from beneath their helmets as a steel trap closed in on the fugitives. When they reached them, one of them lifted their visor. A face weathered by years spoke up, "Gentlemen, you've caused us quite a bit of trouble." admitted the old woman.
"But your luck ends here. You will kindly return the minerals you have wrongfully taken from our lands. Without making a scene, I request it." she ordered, her lips tightly pressed.
Lloyd stepped forward, facing the armed group. He raised his hood and removed the mask covering his face, revealing a square jaw topped with a thin goatee. In a gruff tone, he exclaimed, "Marie?! What an incredible coincidence to find you here...!"
"Shut up, Lloyd!" interrupted the other.
"This... it's all just a simple misunderstanding... a small mistake." Lloyd insisted.
"I said shut up!" She pointed her weapon in Norman's direction, "Or I'll take down your lapdog." Immediately, Lloyd positioned himself between the barrel and Norman, locking eyes with Marie. He remained silent.
She continued, "Here's how it's going to go. First, you're going to start by giving me back what you took from me. Then, I'll rid you of that mutt you carry around with you, as compensation for the men you took from me. And once that's settled, you'll accompany me, and I'll keep you warm. You'll be my... little distraction." she added enigmatically.
Lloyd's eyebrows twitched imperceptibly.
"So, Lloyd, you're being unusually quiet. That's not like you. Not even one last jab, a final sarcastic remark?" Lloyd didn't respond.
"Well, too bad." she sighed. "Kill the kid."
A gloved hand covered Norman's mouth, his feet left the stirrups, and the cold touch of a barrel made his neck tingle. He was dragged onto the road. A teenage voice sounded in his ear, questioning Lloyd, "Do you want to watch the dog die?" Lloyd didn't move.
Norman felt the grip tighten on his scalp. It jerked in a mix of apprehension and excitement. The grip became so firm that his scalp screamed in pain. Above him, he heard a cylinder rotating in its chamber. He closed his eyes and exhaled softly. A wave of heat swept over his skull, accompanied by the smell of burning. A viscous liquid spread across his neck, leaving a metallic taste on his lips. The grip loosened gently. A frail mass collapsed onto his shoulders. Panicked, he quickly freed himself and, with a kick, stood back up.
Beside him lay a charred body, with the right half of the face reduced to a gaping hole, oozing a lumpy mush. The vacant eye of the young girl stared at him, frozen in an expression of shock. Her melted weapon covered her left hand like a smoky glove. Norman tried to utter a few words, but a sudden arm emerged from the surrounding dust and grabbed his sleeve. His trembling legs struggled to support him as he was dragged out of the cloud, coming face to face with Lloyd's decomposed visage.
Marie and her troops were retreating as explosions shattered the pavement around them. Incredulous, Norman sought answers in Lloyd's eyes. The latter signaled for him to stay silent, then pointed westward down the street.
Chaos reigned supreme. Lasers illuminated the sky, sending plaster, stone, and wood fragments flying in all directions. The clamor of voices mixed with cries of agony and deafening metallic noises. Hidden behind the veil of black dust saturating the air, the two companions managed to reach the barricade of vehicles. Finding an opening, they slipped through the flaming wrecks, unnoticed by their assailants, too preoccupied with shielding themselves from incoming fire.
Only a gutted drilling vehicle still obstructed the passage. Lloyd rushed inside, crossing through the cabin. Norman followed closely, but his boot got caught in the seatbelt. Without warning, the shooting ceased. A slight tremor shook the already battered ground, and a tangy smell permeated the air. Lloyd turned pale. He grabbed Norman and fought with all his might to free him from the grasp of the metal coffin. Finally, the restraints gave way with a sharp sound, and both men sprawled on the ground on the other side of the barricade.
Suddenly, everything plunged into darkness as if light itself was fleeing the desolate avenue. A terrifying explosion of immense power shook the already ravaged ground, causing cracks to spread at a frightening speed. Abandoned vehicles were swallowed up in a maelstrom of debris and dust. In an instant, car carcasses turned into piles of twisted and shattered metal. The road, weakened by time, disintegrated beneath their feet. The black dust that permeated every corner of the city swirled in the polluted air as the shockwave propagated. People on the avenue gasped for breath, some thrown backward, their bodies crashing against building facades. Others, trapped by the altered gravitational pull, floated in the air before falling heavily, as if reality itself was rejecting them.
Caught in this devastating tempest, Norman and Lloyd were lifted, momentarily floating as if suspended by a silk thread. The pressure crushed them, depriving them of oxygen. Norman recognized the effects of the Ether and, in an instinctive move, tightly wrapped his arm around Lloyd's and used his own strength to propel them towards the ground. Norman was violently thrown backward by the devastating blast. His body twirled in the air like a disjointed puppet before crashing brutally into a ditch along the roadside. The earth shattered around him, debris and dust obscuring his vision. The impact was so powerful that he momentarily lost consciousness, his lifeless body lying amidst the rubble.
Norman regained consciousness on a hard, damp ground. His ears were ringing, and the acrid taste of blood stung his nose. He struggled to get up and saw Lloyd huddled, observing something. Limping, he hurried to his side. The sounds of combat had ceased, but a new commotion animated the city. Just a few meters from their hiding spot, men, tanks, and trucks paraded through the streets.