|Leaves Of Autumn
Author: Crimson Hayate PM
The Blacklight Empire was ancient.Predjudice,elitism and oligarchy ruled.The Carthage Rebellion was the most succesful revolt of it's kind.But it didn't last.Maybe Ethan's heart wasn't in it.Maybe he didn't have one. This is not a story of grand gestures,wars,or battles,although it might appear so.It's a story about surviving in an oppresive,decaying world,that calls itself modern.Rated: Fiction T - English - Sci-Fi/Fantasy - Chapters: 3 - Words: 3,482 - Reviews: 2 - Updated: 10-11-12 - Published: 10-02-12 - id: 3062600
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Extra A/N: Something went wrong with the formatting, had to repost this chapter D: Hopefuly, it will be more pleasant on the eyes now.
September 5th, 2026 according to Charles' Calendar
The ruined town was sleeping under a smog-covered sky, a full moon barley shining trough, lighting the alleyways and buildings. It was after midnight, hence no one should have been outside. The curfew imposed by the Legion forbid anyone except those with authorization to venture outside their homes during the night. Not that anyone could live in the Sphere anyway. Clouds were slowly gathering, but did not yet manage to cover the town in darkness. A silver – haired man was leaning on a rusted fence, and pulled a lighter out of his pocket. Once he lit a cigarette, he replaced it, and brought the tobacco to his mouth.
»That's a filthy habit, you know,« came a voice, and another person walked into the moonlight.
»Finally, I thought you'd changed your mind,« said Philosopher, ignoring the other one's words, and instead scanned him. He was tall and lean, with black hair, wearing quite everyday clothes,as long as you don't consider the fact no one in the Sphere could keep their clothes in such good condition. Philosopher avoided his eyes though; god knows Ethan' eyes were not something you want to look at.
Ethan smiled, or his mouth did. »Never. I'm tired of working for that old man and his bunch of twisted lunatics!«
»Ethan, but you are a twisted lunatic,« replied Philosopher, a smile spreading across his face as he puffed out more smoke.
»Too true. I guess I'm just bored then.« They looked at each other silently for a minute, Philosopher pulling on his cigarette from time to time, and Ethan waving away the smoke with his hand.
"What time does it start?"
"In five minutes. We might as well go in."
Philosopher put out his cigarette against the railing, and followed Ethan towards a warehouse, the only building in the vicinity with any signs of life. Some light was spilling trough cracks between the wooden boards that were supposed to cover the windows, and as they approached they could hear sounds coming from inside.
"One of these days, they're gonna get busted. A Bumblebee could easily spot them at night."
"Except soldiers wouldn't fly a chopper over the Sphere during nighttime, Philosopher. Not to mention, we're going to bust them first."
Pushing the heavy metal doors open, they stepped into the brightly lit warehouse. Smoke filled the air - some of which smelled funny - along with the smell of sweat of alcohol. They could see a crudely-made bar on the opposite side of the space, near which a few patrons were passed out. Most of them were very scruffy and skinny, their clothes torn and dirty, probably by their own vomit. Such was life in the Sphere, for most.
Those that hadn't drunk as much till then, or at least weren't such lightweights, were slowly gathering at the far end of the warehouse, where most of the lights were. Philosopher spotted electrical cords running down a staircase which had two men guarding it. They had a generator. This made anger bubble inside him, and he gripped his left forearm tightly with his right; but he didn't feel the touch. It was metal.
"Let's go," Ethan's voice woke him from his thoughts, and he followed the younger man towards the gathering crowd. There was a circular corded off area in the middle, standing on a slightly raised platform, it's original use probably long forgotten. Now, it was splattered in dried blood. They elbowed their way to the front of the crowd, and saw a man wearing a tattered suit, holding a whip in one hand and a microphone in the other step into the space. He introduced himself as Mr. Owen, and started to speak.
"Ladies and gents, welcome once more, and to the newcomers finally finding refuge from the Sphere in the Lion's Wake, greetings for the first time. You're welcome to drink, we have more than enough for everyone. But don't let it distract you from our main attraction! Maestro, if you will.« A bald man approached a nearby vintage gramophone, lowered the needle and turned it on. Jazz started playing, and gave the filthy warehouse an almost homely feel. Mr. Owen smiled, seemingly in his element, and resumed his speech.
»This evening's entertainment has just begun! Tonight, Ilhan has a new challenger. We shall open with our champion's fight, and then proceed to our regular one against one matches. I need not explain that not only can you settle scores by signing up for a fight, it also provides prizes for the winner, and entertainment for the rest. But without further ado, I present to you Ilhan, and tonight's challenger, the young Ayano!«
Two people climbed onto the stage that was set for them; one a girl probably no older than 20, with black hair that reached most of the way down her neck and bright blue eyes, the other a very handsome, blonde man with a figure resembling that of some Greek statue. He was dressed very practically; jeans and a white undershirt dirty with grease, while the girl wore a tank top, shorts and a very large coat that covered her almost from head to toe.
»The rules remain the same; the fight lasts either until one party yields. The competitor who loses will be whipped for our entertainment, and any additional punishment except death may be imposed by the winner. You may choose any weapon available in our collection,« Mr. Owen pointed towards a large rack, full of instruments of death, »or use your own. Be aware, fire arms are not permitted.« A woman on the record with a very powerful voice started singing in some forgotten foreign language about god knows what.
Ilhan requested a machete be brought to him, while the girl pulled a switchblade out of one of the coat's many pockets, and flicked it open, the slick black metal catching the light. Murmurs and laughter were heard from the crowd. Most of them seemed to think the fight was quite one-sided, but some people, like Ethan, saw the advantage Ayano had. This should be interesting.
»Ladies and gents, I declare the first fight of the evening…begun!« Ilhan swung his weapon a few times, and then charged towards the girl. The music reached a crescendo, as the brass in the track drowned out everything but the singer. Ilhan raised his arm above his head, his loose clothes allowing him to perform the motion swiftly. But Ayano did not have to move as much. She simply pointed her blade towards his chest and stepped forward, using both his and her own momentum to impale the short blades right in between his ribs. Ilhan gasped in pain and staggered, the air driven out of his body. The girl then quickly kicked at the back of his knees, making him fall backwards. Another long – legged kick took care of the machete.
»I sur-« A gurgle followed, and Ayano let go of the man's long hair she'd used to pull his head upwards, untensing the muscles and tendons in his neck, making it a matter of almost no strength to cleanly cut his neck.
The crowd was dumbfounded for a few moments, especially Mr. Owen, but a slow clap soon broke the silence. Ayano's blue eyes snapped towards the source, and spotted Ethan, smiling in his quality clothing, and a grim Philosopher, wearing a tattered military uniform. Sticking her hands into each of her coat's sides, and pulled out two MP5's, and threw them towards Ethan. He caught them and passed one to Philosopher. Ayano jumped towards Mr. Owen, bent his arm behind his back. He dropped his whip with a groan of pain, and stared at his thugs furiously, both of whom stopped in their tracks and lowered their club and handgun respectively.
Then the shooting started. The first few bullets took down the two thugs, and Ayano's blade was quickly buried in Owen's neck. Ethan and Philosopher then started shooting into the crowd blindly, allowing the girl to slip away. Once they were out of bullets, Ethan and Philosopher dropped their guns discreetly and headed for the exit. A lot of people were lying on the ground, wounded or dead, and the rest were fighting amongst themselves, not knowing who'd killed who because of the dense crowd.
The old Sphaera institute covered a very large area, and included the institute buildings itself, warehouses, utility buildings, parking garages, parks, several living areas and much more. It was almost as large as Carthage, the nearest city. About ten minutes' travel away from Lion's Wake, stood a small building, it's use forgotten. It's here where Ayano, Ethan and Philosopher made their base. The building was probably once used to keep some sort of supplies, since most of it's space was dedicated to storage. The only supplies kept there now were those the group had brought there. It had become a proper fortress; all the windows were barred, except a few on the second floor with good vantage points. Only one entrance was open, and it was blocked by sandbags, more of them placed nearby by a wall, probably so they could be stacked atop the existing ones, making the barricade too high to simply scale.
Ethan slumped against a column, panting, while Ayano threw her coat over a nearby chair. The piece of furniture squeaked under the weight. Philosopher lit a few gas lamps that were strategically placed along the room to banish most of the darkness.
»You still haven't told me where you got these,« he said once he was done.
»And I never will,« replied Ethan. »The plan went pretty well.«
»I still don't like that we had to massacre all those people in the end. I don't think it was necessary.«
»It was,« said the girl, and sat down opposite of Ethan. »If we'd only killed that guy and his bodyguards, we would have been chased, this way there was too much chaos for anyone to notice us. It's not like you killed many people anyway, they mostly just massacred each other.«
»Is that supposed to make it better?«
»Yes. It's not your fault people are so simple.«
»Owen and his gang were killing people, the rest of them were not.«
»They were killing each other anyway, we just sped it up a little.«
The trio fell silent. After a few minutes, Ayano stood up. »I'm going to the store room to change. Anyone hungry?«
»Sure, food sounds nice.«
»Thanks for bringing new clothes, Ethan,« said Ethan.
»Ha ha,« said Ayano and went into a different room. The two men sat there for a while, Philosopher trying to avoid the other's gaze. When he couldn't stand it anymore, he stood up and headed towards the exit.
»I'm going out for a smoke. I'll eat when I'm back.« A ear-shattering siren stopped him short of reaching the sandbags. »Oh fuck it all, why do they always have such wonderful timing?«
And the bombs started dropping again.
A/N: Kay! Chapter two is up. :D Shorter and later than I'd planned, but I had exams this week already. :P So I split away the last part and it'll be the start of the third chapter. That will mean either a)it's gonna be longer or b)it's gonna be up faster. So yeah, I hope you enjoy. =)
And thanks to everyone who read the first chapter, and to Lysergic Mescal for the review. Love 3