The weeks following the Rebellion were chaos. Shadows ran rampant in the streets, killing people on sight. Getting groceries became a matter of life and death. Starvation became the lesser of two evils.
Throughout the attacks, one thing remained constant. They never attacked children. Whether that was because they had some kind of strange compassion for them, or simply because most children weren't even allowed out of the house, we may never know.
Before long, a leader emerged. He took charge of the shadows, and called himself Raoul. He became humanity's liaison. He laid out their demands. "They want equality," he said. "Respect."
We refused. "We do not negotiate with terrorists," we cried, and the shadows retaliated by killing more people than ever. Still, we refused. "We will not be bullied," we insisted, and they pushed back with "neither will we."
Cries of "no more!" rang in the streets from both sides, as humanity's powerlessness became more and more evident. At last, we had no choice.
A deal was struck with Raoul and the shadows. For a few brief weeks of immunity, they promised to attack only those who attacked first, while we created a new home for ourselves. A home away from the shadows, where each race could live in peace. They would be granted free reign of the surface, while all of humanity was moved underground. They said it was our turn to be underfoot.
Thus, the Underland was born, and the Great Migration began.
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Beneath the Shadowlanders
Science FictionWe knew something wasn't right from the moment we awoke. It was like something was missing - a part of our very souls - and we couldn't sense the deficiency, no matter how hard we tried. A hundred million eyes adjusted to the dark all at once, all s...
