Author: Otaku42 PM
In the far future, the world has turned to a desert wasteland But doesn't it always? and the thousands of small religions are desperate to find a savior. Thus, every year, the Chosen One Trials are held. But this year, things will never be the same...Rated: Fiction T - English - Sci-Fi/Humor - Chapters: 8 - Words: 4,945 - Reviews: 27 - Favs: 6 - Follows: 2 - Updated: 09-10-07 - Published: 06-14-07 - id: 2376461
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
13 YEARS AGO
"This is the place?" The sky hung overhead as the group sifted through the rubble.
"That's what the old man said." Another man replied. He pulled his hood off, rolled his robe sleeves back, and heaved another rock away. Three purple shadows were gathered in this dead city. Once the center of the world, these three were the only living things left. Alright, two of them were still alive. No, wait, one- Well, one's better than nothing, wouldn't you think?
"Do you really think he was right?" The first figure mused. Two cold, yellow lights shone underneath his hood, pacing back and forth over the ground. A whirr echoed inside the robes, and the lights shifted up.
"I hear something." The monk stepped forward, his glowing eyes fixed on the crumbled building. The other three looked up, watching carefully as he reached out for a chunk of mortar, easily twice as wide as any of them. Beneath his left sleeve, a flash of blinding sunlight bounced off of the clawed hand as it extended, gripped the rock, and ripped it away. Ignoring the stone flying past them, the two monks rushed to see what their 'brother' had found.
"Maybe the old bugger was right." The clawed monk grinned, and gazed downward. A ray of sunlight trickled down through the shaft, past the rubble, and finally rested on a sleeping infant. The child couldn't have been very old, but there was no sign that anyone had been there for decades. The third monk climbed down the shaft and picked up the child. The child yawned and sleepily opened its milky-blue eyes. The monk's hand ran over the baby's head. The clump of white hair on the child was notable, if only for the fact that it seemed to glow with a radiance all its own. There could be no mistake; this was the child they were looking for.
"So, do we name it?"
"Of course we name him. It's in the Prophecy."
"Everything's in the bloody Prophecy." The clawed monk muttered.
"And? What's the name?"
"According to the text, the baby was named Neon."
"Neon... I like that. Very elemental. How about you, K1?"
"It's alright." The second monk took the baby in his arms.