About half of the theater’s patrons are in absolute rapt attention of the Sheriff’s broadcast, while the other half is filled with varying degrees of apathy, amusement, or anger. It’s clear that plenty are taken in with his words, though you aren’t sure if it’s the words themselves, or the underlying psionic energies that come with them.
Either way, what you hear is deeply worrying.
“It’s been years since the invasion,” begins the Sheriff. “Years since our lives have been ripped away from us. Since they began to march the streets and killed us wherever we stood.”
You’re taken aback, right off the bat. The Sheriff does his best to describe the events from years ago as an alien invasion of some kind. As though someone or something caused this to happen to the world on purpose.
“Some of you might wonder who ‘they’ even is, or why they’re doing any of this in the first place,” he continues. “Well that’s a tale as old as time. We did it. Our ancestors did it. Our ancestors’ ancestors’ did it. They attacked others for their land.
“So that means whoever’s invading us, well they’re here ‘coz they want our land. Whatever bugs are out there, or otherworldly creatures - just know that they’re the advance guard. Don’t believe me? I watched as Armored Crags marched on the capital in formation, and completely wiped out everything in front of them. They tore through people and humvees and even opened up a tank like it was a can. Saw it all with my own two eyes. There’s no denying it.
“It's long since become clear to me that someone or something invaded us. Is still invading us, honestly. They’re wiping us all out day after day, whittling us down to nothing. So that they can have it all to themselves.”
There’s a general murmur of agreement from many below, especially from the group that Carl identifies with. You sense their collective anger piqued by this idea, that the world is under siege by some otherworldly invading force. It whips them up emotionally, and deeply.
You can’t help but scoff at what the Sheriff’s saying, though. Through all your experiences, you’ve never once seen an attack force as he claims. Even the ones that almost nearly overwhelmed the Stadium back in the day - that was hardly an attack force and more like a panicked populace.
Of course, you can’t doubt that there is a possibility that some part of what the Sheriff’s saying is true. For all you know there is some kind of invading force, somewhere. They very well could be destroying some human settlement wherever they are.
But to say it’s everywhere… well, that seems incredibly dishonest and deceptive to you.
“Now I don’t got all the answers,” the Sheriff keeps talking. “Got no idea who’s doing all this in the first place, much less where they are. But I’ve got an idea what this person might look like. I’m sure some of you’ve seen the Shadow Sweepers.
“For those who haven’t, they’re huge people-shaped shadows that float around in purple armor. They swing around giant swords that cut everything in half. They’re usually found at the head of these armies, leading Iron Crags or Devil Horns or Scarlet Fogs - it doesn’t matter what they’re leading.
“All that matters is that they lead armies to destroy us.”
This you can’t refute as much, considering you’ve also seen this happen. That shadow creature, er, Sweeper, certainly pushed Crags into the Stadium. Although you’re certain it wasn’t leading them, it definitely used its presence to drive the insects into an initial attack.
Still, the words make you stop and think at the possible truth of it.
The Crags didn’t necessarily form up into a military unit by choice, but were instead shaped into one by something else. Or at the very least, their orderly natures were exploited for martial roles and warlike intent. What differentiated them from an actual standing army at that point? Willingness? How would that change their ultimate purpose in the end? They were still used as an assaulting force, albeit not a very effective one.
Although this Sheriff’s words are in part laughable, you can certainly see a few grains of truth from behind them.
But you’re still far from convinced any of it is an invading force. For one thing, the Shadow Sweepers don’t even need any armies - they go wherever they want unopposed and unobstructed, and kill whatever they want.
Everything that’s stampeding in front of them is only doing so because of their nature.
Not only that, but the Sweepers don’t seem to have any goals, and don’t appear to move with any kind of specific purpose, or as part of any kind of unit. Of course, you’re not sure about any of this either and can’t make any kind of judgment either way. You’re no expert on these Sweepers.
“We’re living in the middle of a massive battlefield,” continues the Sheriff. “The kind where thousands of us die every day. Because the invaders are united on every front - they even attacked our sun, our sky and turned them against us! Their weapons have ripped their way out of the ground, and destroyed our buildings…”
You can hear a sense of weariness come from the Sheriff, but none of it seems real to you. It seems rehearsed in a way. A truly subtle wave of weariness sweeps over you, through the radio. It’s followed by a hint of anger sharp enough to notice.
Both wash over the crowds below, filling half of the theater with indignation. All you’re awash with is deeper skepticism, a feeling you share with a handful among the other half of the audience.
After all, you haven’t seen evidence of a single battle field. If there’s a massive fight happening everywhere, all at once, and on every level you’d see the results of it. You’d hear cannons and gunfire, wherever this fight would be happening. Beyond that, there’d be thousands and thousands of dead bodies on both sides, just out there baking in the sun, a result of some devastating fight over a stretch of land.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
But again, you’ve seen zero in that regard. Not a corpse, not a battle, not a single wayward weapon of war. In fact, things have been mostly tranquil since you started traveling.
“They’re winning the war, you know. We’re losing hard, everywhere. Little towns everywhere are vanishing every day. Yours might be next. It might not be the Crags that take it, or even a Sweeper. It might just be the heat that empties it out. Or maybe it’ll get flooded in the next Flash Storm.
“It’s all part of the invasion, part of the plan to destroy our way of life. They want to throw the world into a violent, bloody chaos so they can have it all to themselves. And they almost got it all… Almost got it all.
“Every old nation in the world’s hanging on by a thread at this point. Just grasping and trying not to die. But they can’t handle this invasion, not individually, not even together. No giant vote is gonna save any single one of them.”
Those who have allowed themselves to get angered by the Sheriff, their emotions shift and sway all throughout the broadcast. They allow themselves to get worked up in anger and fear over all these half-truths, almost like they want to.
As though they’ve been seeking reasons to get worked up in the first place. It hardly matters if these are obviously half-lies. You can sense their camaraderie weave through their psyches, as they bind themselves to the words of the Sheriff.
“Except one place,” says the Sheriff. “One place is fighting back against this invasion, and it’s the only place that’s winning the war. And I’m proud to say that it’s my Fortress that’s doing so. The Southern Fortress. Say it with me.”
A handful of people do actually say ‘Southern Fortress’ aloud, Carl being one of them.
“The Fortress is the only port of call from this undying storm. It’s the only place where we can be protected from this neverending assault. It’s the only place where we can still be who we are, even if the rest of the world’s trying to kill us.
“It’s here where we repel the vast invading hordes daily, whether it’s millions of aggressive Crags or powerful Crazed armies. Nothing gets in here. Hell, we fought off a Sweeper just the other day. Ask anyone who lives here. They saw it with their own eyes. Drove it back with our weapons and our willpower.”
You want to audibly scoff on hearing the Sheriff’s boast. You’ve experienced first hand just how overwhelmingly powerful a Shadow Sweeper is. Absolutely nothing can stop it from doing what it wants to.
Although if that was completely true, you wouldn’t be alive right now.
After all, Kaja did stop one of them… It took every ounce of her being to do it, but she did. You suppose it’s certainly possible for the Fortress to do something similar, especially if they have dozens or even hundreds of psions to defend them.
You imagine that they could have, with one powerful Network, obliterate a Shadow Sweeper through whatever means. However possible that actually is, well, you don’t have a clue. And you simply don’t know enough to outright deny.
You exhale out of annoyance. You don’t want the Sheriff to be correct in any way, but you can’t exactly refute his claims.
A part of you wonders why you want this person to be wrong, and why you want to reject their broadcast whole-heartedly. It’s seemingly coming from nowhere. But then another part reminds you that his words are laced with psionic energies, and your defenses are automatically rejecting them. It makes sense that you would automatically reject his words alongside them.
Whatever his purposes, it’s clear that they aren’t good for you, though you don’t exactly know why.
“If you want true safety, then come to my Fortress,” he keeps talking. “Safety from the invasion, from certain death. My family and I built this entire place from the ground up just to keep everyone safe, to keep us people from dying out, to keep us all strong for generations to come.
“We welcome you all with open arms, now and always. So long as you fight alongside us and help protect everyone else, then you will have a place beside us, as one of us. You too can become a member of the family, and stand strong in our Fortress for all time.
“You’ll be fed, you’ll be clothed, you’ll be safe, here with us.”
The Sheriff’s broadcast ends shortly afterwards, and old music fills the speakers in his stead.
You’re left thinking of his words and their implications, as well as what his true purpose and intent for all this is. In contrast, half of those still remaining downstairs are in excited conversation with each other. You can practically feel their enthusiasm wafting off them in waves.
“So what do you think?” asks the Mayor.
You want to tell her honestly that you think the Sheriff is full of shit, and not to listen to him. Probably, they should stop tuning in to these broadcasts altogether. But you remind yourself that none of this is your business.
Whatever they want to do with their lives is on them, not you. You’ve got your own problems to deal with, and sticking your nose in theirs is only going to make your life more complicated. Could even get you killed.
“So I guess that’s what you were talking about earlier,” you say. “About the town moving, I mean.”
“You’ve guessed right,” she tells you. “Plenty want to pick everything up and join the Fortress.”
“Why? Life looks ideal here.”
“Already said, town’s slowly dying. It’s not growing. Only a matter of time until there’s none of us left. Then what? The whole place just vanishes? Some of my people think that joining the Fortress is the only way to make it in this new world, for the town to keep going.”
“But you’ve been making it already these past few years. What’s wrong with trying for a few years more?”
The Mayor sighs at length, as though letting loose a bit of pressure from deep within.
“What if trying for a few years more only kills us faster?” she says. “What if one day the city thugs come at us with body armor and heavy rifles? What if they end up killing all of us anyway? What if they’ve joined the invaders in taking what’s ours?
“You don’t know any of that,” you refute. “There’s no way to tell the future, and you can’t possibly know if any given choice will be better than the other.”
“And what if a Shadow Seeker shows up tomorrow? What then? Think we could fight one off like the Sheriff did? What would you do if you were me?”
She looks at you for answers, but you purse your lips, unable to say anything. It’s unlikely that they’d get attacked by a Sweeper, but it’s not an impossibility. What’s that saying? Possible doesn’t mean probable? Sure, it’s not as though a Sweeper will suddenly show up tomorrow and clean the town of everything that’s alive. It hasn’t happened in three years, and probably won’t happen for another three years yet. Or ever.
But if it does, they’re all as good as dead.
“Think about this way instead,” the Mayor continues. “Think about how much power it took to get that broadcast out. It takes the entire town daisy-chaining all our solar chargers to power up all that radio equipment for all of a half hour.
“Imagine how much actual electricity’s available in the Fortress, if they’ve got enough to transmit radio like they do. If they can do that, then they can also keep the people cool, the people fed. You hear me on that? How could anyone with so much extra power, so much obvious wealth… how could they be wrong in any way?”