Prologue

There’s no doubt in my mind that we’re in the minority, but then we should be used to it by now. All who know the Truth are predestined to face the consequences.

According to the scribbled graffiti on the wall, today marks the one year anniversary since I abandoned my previous life to take refuge with the others in the ancient shafts under the city. Since then, life has been a constant struggle. Fear, worry, betrayal, hunger, disease, insanity, death…we know them all. Yet somehow I always seem to find the strength to make it through one more day. I must admit that the staleness of the air, the rank smell of the dead and dying make finding any kind of happiness seemingly impossible, but still, we are thankful. This life means so little, yet so much, for it is in this life that we decide our eternal fates, and the wrong choice can be worse than fatal.

What if everything you ever knew, ever lived for, every detail of your life, all of it, was a falsehood? None of your possessions and good deeds amount to anything. You’ve finished your life, and discovered it was all a lie. You were deceived by half-truths for the entirety of it. You’ve no excuse for the Truth is always there, has always been there, from before the beginning of time. Yes, the Truth was there, but you were blind to it, refused to have anything to do with it. That is the beauty, so to speak, of deception. A man never knows he’s blind if he’s never seen. Century after century, the same lies have been tailored and repackaged to fit the tastes of each coming generation. You were given grace, but you wouldn’t take it then, perhaps not even now. Justice prevails. You missed a lifetime of chances, and now it’s too late. You’re heading into the next stage of eternity, and the path looks grim and painful, but there’s no turning back now, no changing your mind. You’re too late.

They thought they were progressing, weeding out all the political incorrectness and “obstacles” to achieving a universally unified mind. Progression and regression often go hand in hand. They were unconsciously imploding, like all the mighty empires of old. Their pride in their accomplishments and unchecked egos made them forget that they were still human, mere flesh and blood sewn together. Their busyness kept their thoughts off what really mattered. The thing they hated the most, the thing they fought the hardest is the only thing that can save them from their self-destruction.

Why are we so attracted by stories of individuals fighting for freedom from the all-powerful “System”? Maybe we fear such closeness to reality. And who is this infamous “they” forever and anon dictating our daily lives? Why, ‘tis us.

Then with white knuckled hands clenched around a stray shard of steel, I sent another mark to join its brothers.