Phalanx Prologue: Monotony

Sprite Industries H.Q.

Nexan Outskirts


Desmond sat there and stared at the billboard sized monitor dully, his beer in hand. Due to his companies critical financial state he had recieved yet another pay cut, and was now facing the possibility of being laid off. His eyes were unfocused and his mouth was slightly agape, his consciousness mared by seventh beer. Of course, it didn't help that he had been sitting there monitoring the SEAL concentration levels of the Wasteland Rift for hours now. That's what he did for a living; he just sat and gauged the radioactivity of a hellhole all day. All frickin' day. Fourteen freaking monotonous hours of staring at a computer screen.

Now, the Wasteland Rift wasn't boring in itself. The rift was a massive several mile long abyss that was overflowing with radioactive SEAL energy, which was emitted from a crystalline parasitic mass. If that wasn't enough, the rift connected the overworld to the underworld, which just happened to teeming with mutated monsters.

Sinking into a trance, Desmond once again recounted the very string of events that had landed him this cushy job. At the time, three of the five countries of the super continent Pangea were mining SEAL for energy during the pinnacle of the Third Industrial Era. Being a miner, although dangerous, was once a respectable and profitable job. As if drilling through giant energy radiating geodes ten miles above the continental layer wasn't dangerous enough, workers also had to deal with radiation and the casualties that came with it. Regardless, he was making sixty dollars a hour, and he was content.

That was back when life was "simple". Nexa was on friendly terms both Terranis and Krete, and the only war they were fighting was against those damned Apexians.

Desmond took another long drought of cheap beer. He grimaced as more grim memories invaded his mind, reminding him of just how old he was. He remembered the freakish outgrowth of SEAL matter. He watched from the safety of a mounted drill as massive spires of crystaline material erupted from the charred ground of the digsite, shattering blast walls and impaling fellow co-workers. It only got worse after that. Horrified at what they had done, Krete and Terranis withdrew from the mining industry and retreated behind there borders, leaving Nexa alone to deal with the super natural catastrophe.

They should've stopped mining then and there, but the constant need for Phalanxes and war machines kept the SEAL trade going strong. They just kept on mining and mining, all the way up to day they triggered the massive earthquake that splintered the Earth and released all of the cuddly monsters from within. Now they were taking heat from everyone, and he was stuck here monitoring the radiation levels at the ground zero of the most devestating event in the history of the world for a laughable tweleve bucks an hour. At least he wasn't a soldier, serving as a human blast shield for all of the hate and betrayal that constantly threatened the country these days.

The SEAL concentration level hit 23.0 on a one to ten scale as another sprawling wave of monsters clamored out from the rift. They wouldn't get very far before they met Nexan infantry. Tired and miserable, Desmond sunk back into his chair, reveling in the past. He just sat there and stared numbly at the massive monitor. That giant damn monitor, he hated that thing. He just sat and stared it all day. All day long… Sometimes he would stay past midnight as well, just sitting there, waiting to hit the emergency evacuation button when the concentration rating topped twenty five.

That damn monitor… Desmond slowly faded away into a subconscious state. As he dozed off, the SEAL concentration rapidly started to increase, topping 32.0. With him out cold, no one was there to press the evacuation button to alert the miners and soldiers of their oncoming doom. If one didn't know better, one could think supernatural forces were at work here.

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