Chapter 1: The Decent

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Humans... are teeming with greed. Since the day they enter on to this planet, they're constantly being cared for, constantly taking for granted, constantly demanding more... nothing satisfies their unquenchable appetite. In the year 3500, the Earth had reached a state of pandemonium. Earthquakes decimated the earth's mantle, spewing forth waves of magma and inferno, as if creatures out of the darkest, most sinister reaches of the netherworld. Volcanoes collapsed in on themselves, leaving in their stead vast, incessant chasms. The entire globe, enveloped in a colossal storm raining down thunder and releasing hurricanes to wreak havoc upon all those who the brimstone and devastation could not touch.

Despite the abundance of lava, the Earth's surface was almost wholly submerged in water. People and animals alike were slowly driven insane, turning against one another, fighting for what they each believed to be "survival." It seemed as if the time for this small, insignificant speck within the infinite freedom of the cosmos, had ended. Days turned to weeks; weeks, to months; months, to years, and this endless cycle of suffering and agony continued still.

However, in the midst of all this chaos some have managed formed bonds, alliances, in order to live on in this all but lost existence...

"Keep moving, we need to get to higher ground before the crocs begin their hunt," a gruff, beaten man near the front of the group calls back. His tattered, stained clothes and collection of scars proudly show, conveying the legends of his travels to all those he encounters.

A girl near the front of the party, russet mop just brushing her shoulders, plods along closely behind the leader, determined not to fall behind. They turn the corner into a room and survey the area, searching for anything useable. It was a space much like all the others that occupied the hospital's right wing, square perimeter with only a few overturned, broken chairs and a flipped, moldy bed. As they shine their flashlights around the space, long, broken industrial lights can be seen scarcely dangling from the ceiling by their wires and the tiles on the walls and floor were chipped and cracked, giving off that all too familiar feeling of despair and abandonment. Electrical energy was long gone, but the remnants of it remained, forever bringing the people to ruminate of a long, lost society.

"Damn, another useless side trip... alright, let's go everyone, out the door and to the right," Leader instructs as he ushers the group out of the room, the girl close on his heels.

However, as she nears the door's threshold, slight movements catch her eye. Turning, she bends down to look into the shallow, swamp-green puddle on the left half of the room.

'Wow... it's been a while since I've seen any of these,' thinks the girl as a small, reminiscent smirk plays on her lips.

As she gazes at the tadpoles, she notices they exist in almost every stage of development, from egg to developing lungs and moving to land. She slides her backpack off and unzips it, rummaging around for a suitable container to hold the critters. Her smirk grows as she removes a glass jar, along with another container that appears to have some type of mucus-like liquid in it. She fills the jar with water and scoops a few tadpoles inside. After they seem to be content in the bottom of the jar, she unscrews the lid on the other container and hesitantly plunges her hand into the mucus substance. As she pulls it out, she recoils at the disgusting texture and waits for the long, gooey strings slowly dripping from her hands to slow. Then, she places her hand carefully over the top of the jar, making sure to cover the entire rim in her palm. When she finally removes her hand from the top of the jar, a thin, milky colored film remains. Holding her breath, she slowly turns the jar over, and, to her relief, the water doesn't come pouring out. A small sigh escapes her lips and she grins at the frogs. She then puts the jar in a slot on her belt and quickly strides out of the room, being careful to not forget anything. Remembering Leader's instructions, she turns to the right and hurries to catch up with the group.

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