Mother Earth.

PART II 'THE SAVIOUR' - Chapter 14: The Spark Is Gone.

THE LAW OF THE HUMAN WORLD IS THE WORD OF VIOLENCE;

OUR FIRST LANGUAGE, WRITTEN IN BLOOD.

THERE WAS NEVER ANOTHER WAY.

***

Chris Chalut.

The World Capital,

The year 2169.

"Things have begun to escalate because of last year." Chris thought while walking forward in the blackened night on the pristine sidewalk of the largest Bastion in the world, the pinnacle of human construction and cooperation, the sole pillar and leader to keeping humanity alive. That's what it was; now, it's the icon of fear that sweeps the world in pure military might, and there is nothing a single nation can do to change that.
"Those Above summoned me today. They wouldn't allow a team to transport me there, probably because I could see everything they didn't want me to see. A debriefing on what I am to do moving forward. They only mentioned that it was about that kid, Lydia-"
On the screens towering over every single citizen, there was a projected photo illustrated of Lydia's bloodied figure, with enraged, fiery orange eyes standing atop a mountain of corpses. In bold lettering, it read:

'THIS IS THE ENEMY.'

'NEVER FORGET KHARKIV,'

'HONOR THOSE IT SLAUGHTERED.'

'TAKE UP ARMS AGAINST ARMAGEDDON!'
"-and about how she, along with her adopted father, annihilated an entire army on their own."
Within the walls of The World Capital, Chris Chalut breathed in clean, warm air. Towering neon pillars of an age that should've been left behind, but you cannot unmake human progress. Inside these borders, industry was alive and well. Chris saw groups of young adults running from store to store with bags full of products, spending money on a whim the moment something caught their eye. This was the facade fostered in the Bastions, and the people believed it; they lived in it without knowing their true circumstances, with armed guards at every corner of every street. A different fear began within the walls, one of an eye on the backs of their heads, an ear listening in on every conversation. Chris, however, he knew. He knew so much more than anyone could know. The streets were masked with such things as roads were paved above him, with entire layers hidden with humming electric automobiles. Their walls reached higher than any building, and arrow systems mounted even higher, with snipers on the grand towers beaming floodlights and sweeping the grounds outside the walls. They circled the ground, and those who walked by the marching soldiers stayed silent the moment the question of what could be done better came up.
"All-encompassing fire, bullets flying... tanks with bombshells bursting upon impact. That comes here."
Each building constructed housed thousands of people, each enjoying the fruits of luck that they were in here and not out there. Not once had they gone hungry or realized the ticking clock looming over every living thing: the sickening timer everyone had, the truth that they were running out of time, sitting in the glass towers of light, at desks typing up arbitrary numbers for a job that ultimately didn't matter, all to earn another number; to dwindle the number that mattered more than their own lives: food. That's how he saw it anyway. Chris scoffed at the thought of such an existence while he peered upward at the crosswalk. He activated his golden eyes; the crawling marked swirls growing down his face as he caught a glimpse of every future inside.
"Funny. A life such as this, and you all die in the exact same way, in terror."

He shook his head, recalling the bowed heads in the pale red light mosaic. "Same as them."
The rest was the same in the mechanical uniformity of The World Capital, each tower of glass and neon projections crawling across every surface and through the air. The population here was more cybernetic than flesh, and Chris rejected them. Every single man, woman and child around him had implants. They all had the same future as those in the glass towers. Resentment washed over him in unbridled anguish in the world they could not see. He was alone. He had always been in such a world of metal while he had the curse of new flesh. Establishments turned him away with the sight of his face, waving titanium fingers with golden embellishments along their brow.
Until a child that was alone walked out before him onto the road past Chris.
"Hey, kid!"
The child stared at him. A child so young he couldn't understand what was happening. Chris made to run forward, but the child still stared. Then, his whole body was buried in the bright headlights of an oncoming vehicle-
"KID!"
CRASH!
Chris stuck out his hand beside him, and the same child hit his hand head-on, stopping him before he could step off of the sidewalk.
"Ow! H-Hey!" the small voice from beside him called out. Chris looked down at him, his eyes still aglow.
"You okay?-"
"HEY! HANDS OFF OF MY BOY!" A woman's voice barked from behind him, snatching the child backward. Chris turned to the woman, her and those cybernetic head implants that almost every citizen has. Her eyes turned from anger to disgust upon seeing his face.
"Oh, you're a Child of Blight. Makes fucking sense that a creature like you would lay your hands on a kid. Just who do you think you are? Huh?!" She squawked at him, her face contorting with her words into a scowl. Chris just stared with head high, staring through her, saying nothing.
"You die in the same horrific way as everyone else around me."
The woman snatched her child's arm and yanked him to follow her as she stormed away.
"I can't believe they allow those things just to walk around now! Fucking Child of Blight..." She muttered, fading into the crowd on the sidewalk. Chris deactivated his eyes, the swirls spiralling back to their original state. He sighed and turned back to face the crosswalk, looking to the ground.
"You all rejected me from the moment I was born. I had a gift of a new heritage from a new species born from what you humans did to one another. Yet... we are the ones hunted and culled."
Chris reached for his jacket, but nothing was there. Instead of leather, it was the soft fabric of a black sweatshirt.
"I still forget I gave it to that kid in Russia." He thought as the symbol of the split earth flooded his mind. "'Totality is a converging of every path, every word of every drop of blood spilt: that is the crux that stirred clouds back into the skies as we cry out with our thanks to It. Armageddon, revive our Mother Earth.'"