(I was gonna wait til I was finished, but that may be awhile, so here. and keep in mind that a prologue is just that: a build up to the story, and is more thematic and story related than an actual retelling of the gameplay. that starts at chapter 1.)
Prologue
When the resources ran out, I, like many others became a New-Age Colonist. By the dozens we piled onto ships, leaving all that we?d ever known behind us. We would leave desperate, and with only trace hints of hope.
When the time came to fight for the planet?s remaining ores and minerals it was mostly a battle between corporation and government figureheads. There was a lot of name-calling and finger pointing, but in reality, we all knew who was to blame: it could only be ourselves. It was easy to ignore at first, and for most it was merely a minor inconvenience. New cars became more and more rare, so maintaining your current car became big business. Mass transit stations increasingly became elbow to elbow until the point where subways and bus stations had to have stationed armed guards to prevent a full on riot. For some, this became a new type of reluctant utopia. If you didn?t mind staring down the barrel of a fully automatic rifle on your way to work; if you trusted your government to stifle man?s inherent animal instincts survival and to always have your best interest at heart, or if you particularly enjoyed the stolen moments of bliss from being pressed against a young woman?s ample rack, these were your golden years. But everyone saw it: we were on the brink of a full collapse. A domino effect that only needed one slight nudge to set the whole thing in motion. But we didn?t get a nudge, or even an aggravated shove? We got a Freight Train dropkick to the face? We got a complete food and water embargo. Placed on us by our own government.
All the government experts had foreseen the shortage coming for a year leading up to the day that became known as Day Negative One. It began as a Media joke, stating that we had reverted our society to a day before it even began. The government began stockpiling all the food and water it could gather into newly constructed camps. Monolithic fortresses where the government gathered only the people it deemed the most necessary. It was no longer good enough to be good at your craft, you had to be the TOP. And even if you were the top civil engineer, astrophysicist, biologist or whatever your chosen path was, you had to hope that the government hadn?t already built a long term plan in your field. You had to pray that they knew enough about you to know they needed you, but not enough to know that they could take what they needed and leave you on the outside of the walls. The government had lost all sense of it?s duty, of the people it served. It too became a scared animal fighting desperately with survivalist instincts, bearing it?s fully automatic teeth at whoever challenged it. Day Negative Zero. A joke played on the people, a sensationalist headline. A targeted attack to make those outside the walls feel desperate enough to destroy each other, clearing the path for a new future. The Day One Movement.
But what began as a media tagline took on it?s own life. People saw it as a challenge. They sought to rebuild and start again. And contrary to what the Movement would have predicted, the people banded together. They sought out these government fortresses, thousands gathered whatever resources they could and began piling dirt, rock, mud, concrete. Whatever could be gathered and buried The Movement under untold tons of earth. Their salvation was to become their Tomb. A comfortable sarcophagus for them to rot in until their resources began to run out. Their fortresses became microcosms of the world it tried to save itself from. And no one outside of the walls felt any pity. No one would answer or hear their screams as they tore each other apart beneath newly formed hills. The mounds were built and left with no celebration, no affair was made. We all just walked off. And no one talked about The Tombs or The Movement. The land around us was dead. Our people thirsty and starving. The ?best? of our minds buried for all eternity. But there was a new sense of pride and duty in all of our hearts. This was our time. This was our Day One.
Part 1
Chapter 1: New Lands
?Slow down!? A voice boomed from the front of our boat. Being a miner, I was no nautical expert, but I could tell that we were approaching the land mass ahead of us way too quickly. The sheer cliff faces and golden beaches came barreling at us, we all knew that impact was coming. ?SLOW DOWN!? the voice repeated louder, as though the reason for this imminent impact was because we couldn?t hear him well enough. I counted to myself? ?3... (remember to go limp) 2... (hold your breath) 1... (now JUMP!).? Even beneath the waves I could hear the sickening crack of boat and bone on the rocks. I washed up onto the nearby shore and choked water out of my lungs. Finally managing to get myself to my feet I took in the scene around me. Of our crew of over two dozen, at least half lay dead, and half of the remaining crew lay mortally wounded. That left about 6 of us able-bodied enough to gather the dead and comfort the dying. A small nearby cave provided us a little sense of security in these unknown lands, but night was quickly closing in, and we needed to secure a shelter, at least for the night. Leaving one to tend to the needs of the injured, the remaining five of us headed to the crash site and gathered what wreckage we could, but the damage was substantial and no safety from the night would be offered by these measly scraps. Defeated again. We sat at the wreckage, each of us waiting for the other to offer our salvation. Throwing what wood we did gather into a pile, a piece snagged my damp clothing, hanging on by a sharp edge. Like Newton?s Apple, this was my moment of inspiration. I looked at the shape that had fortuitously clung to me. Shaped like the most basic tool of my trade, I was holding a makeshift pickaxe.
?We need to build tools.? I commanded. Whether out of respect for my ability to take charge, or just not knowing what else to do, they listened. I took my new pick over to nearby vein of rock and began chipping away. One man began chipping one rock against another, sharpening an edge replace my wooden one. Now more effectively able to break the rocks around me, we soon had a nice pile of rocks in front of us, and with night now here, it was none too soon. We gathered every last rock and built a wall to block off the cave entrance. Leaving only a small hole for moonlight to pour in through, we cautiously gathered together against the back wall, man and woman alike, naked bodies huddled together for warmth and prayed that whatever was out there wasn?t going to come knocking on our door. As I fought to keep my eyes open, fatigue eventually won over, and I drifted off to sleep. But somewhere out there, in the depths of this new land, or in the depths of my mind, I could almost swear I heard a moaning from beneath the earth, a vaguely familiar yet altogether inhuman sound. Yeah, that had to be a dream?
Prologue
When the resources ran out, I, like many others became a New-Age Colonist. By the dozens we piled onto ships, leaving all that we?d ever known behind us. We would leave desperate, and with only trace hints of hope.
When the time came to fight for the planet?s remaining ores and minerals it was mostly a battle between corporation and government figureheads. There was a lot of name-calling and finger pointing, but in reality, we all knew who was to blame: it could only be ourselves. It was easy to ignore at first, and for most it was merely a minor inconvenience. New cars became more and more rare, so maintaining your current car became big business. Mass transit stations increasingly became elbow to elbow until the point where subways and bus stations had to have stationed armed guards to prevent a full on riot. For some, this became a new type of reluctant utopia. If you didn?t mind staring down the barrel of a fully automatic rifle on your way to work; if you trusted your government to stifle man?s inherent animal instincts survival and to always have your best interest at heart, or if you particularly enjoyed the stolen moments of bliss from being pressed against a young woman?s ample rack, these were your golden years. But everyone saw it: we were on the brink of a full collapse. A domino effect that only needed one slight nudge to set the whole thing in motion. But we didn?t get a nudge, or even an aggravated shove? We got a Freight Train dropkick to the face? We got a complete food and water embargo. Placed on us by our own government.
All the government experts had foreseen the shortage coming for a year leading up to the day that became known as Day Negative One. It began as a Media joke, stating that we had reverted our society to a day before it even began. The government began stockpiling all the food and water it could gather into newly constructed camps. Monolithic fortresses where the government gathered only the people it deemed the most necessary. It was no longer good enough to be good at your craft, you had to be the TOP. And even if you were the top civil engineer, astrophysicist, biologist or whatever your chosen path was, you had to hope that the government hadn?t already built a long term plan in your field. You had to pray that they knew enough about you to know they needed you, but not enough to know that they could take what they needed and leave you on the outside of the walls. The government had lost all sense of it?s duty, of the people it served. It too became a scared animal fighting desperately with survivalist instincts, bearing it?s fully automatic teeth at whoever challenged it. Day Negative Zero. A joke played on the people, a sensationalist headline. A targeted attack to make those outside the walls feel desperate enough to destroy each other, clearing the path for a new future. The Day One Movement.
But what began as a media tagline took on it?s own life. People saw it as a challenge. They sought to rebuild and start again. And contrary to what the Movement would have predicted, the people banded together. They sought out these government fortresses, thousands gathered whatever resources they could and began piling dirt, rock, mud, concrete. Whatever could be gathered and buried The Movement under untold tons of earth. Their salvation was to become their Tomb. A comfortable sarcophagus for them to rot in until their resources began to run out. Their fortresses became microcosms of the world it tried to save itself from. And no one outside of the walls felt any pity. No one would answer or hear their screams as they tore each other apart beneath newly formed hills. The mounds were built and left with no celebration, no affair was made. We all just walked off. And no one talked about The Tombs or The Movement. The land around us was dead. Our people thirsty and starving. The ?best? of our minds buried for all eternity. But there was a new sense of pride and duty in all of our hearts. This was our time. This was our Day One.
Part 1
Chapter 1: New Lands
?Slow down!? A voice boomed from the front of our boat. Being a miner, I was no nautical expert, but I could tell that we were approaching the land mass ahead of us way too quickly. The sheer cliff faces and golden beaches came barreling at us, we all knew that impact was coming. ?SLOW DOWN!? the voice repeated louder, as though the reason for this imminent impact was because we couldn?t hear him well enough. I counted to myself? ?3... (remember to go limp) 2... (hold your breath) 1... (now JUMP!).? Even beneath the waves I could hear the sickening crack of boat and bone on the rocks. I washed up onto the nearby shore and choked water out of my lungs. Finally managing to get myself to my feet I took in the scene around me. Of our crew of over two dozen, at least half lay dead, and half of the remaining crew lay mortally wounded. That left about 6 of us able-bodied enough to gather the dead and comfort the dying. A small nearby cave provided us a little sense of security in these unknown lands, but night was quickly closing in, and we needed to secure a shelter, at least for the night. Leaving one to tend to the needs of the injured, the remaining five of us headed to the crash site and gathered what wreckage we could, but the damage was substantial and no safety from the night would be offered by these measly scraps. Defeated again. We sat at the wreckage, each of us waiting for the other to offer our salvation. Throwing what wood we did gather into a pile, a piece snagged my damp clothing, hanging on by a sharp edge. Like Newton?s Apple, this was my moment of inspiration. I looked at the shape that had fortuitously clung to me. Shaped like the most basic tool of my trade, I was holding a makeshift pickaxe.
?We need to build tools.? I commanded. Whether out of respect for my ability to take charge, or just not knowing what else to do, they listened. I took my new pick over to nearby vein of rock and began chipping away. One man began chipping one rock against another, sharpening an edge replace my wooden one. Now more effectively able to break the rocks around me, we soon had a nice pile of rocks in front of us, and with night now here, it was none too soon. We gathered every last rock and built a wall to block off the cave entrance. Leaving only a small hole for moonlight to pour in through, we cautiously gathered together against the back wall, man and woman alike, naked bodies huddled together for warmth and prayed that whatever was out there wasn?t going to come knocking on our door. As I fought to keep my eyes open, fatigue eventually won over, and I drifted off to sleep. But somewhere out there, in the depths of this new land, or in the depths of my mind, I could almost swear I heard a moaning from beneath the earth, a vaguely familiar yet altogether inhuman sound. Yeah, that had to be a dream?
