The ground was hot and dry by now. Any hint of cold or wet, erased from it.
It felt crusty, where Ren extended a tentative hand beyond the bounds of his fabric haven.
Slowly, painstakingly, Ren gathered his strength, and began to lift himself.
First onto his one good knee, then, shakily, onto his feet.
As he rose, he twisted the fire proof fabric around himself, into a makeshift robe.
He wobbled for a moment, but then managed to steady himself.
His burned leg screamed in pain, but he grudgingly ignored it.
Knowing not moving, would kill him.
Pain would not.
"I need to find some way to... agg..."
Bending over, Ren began to cough violently, harder and harder untill specks of black soot were flung from his mouth.
He grasped at his thoughts and started over.
"I needed to find my family... I need to find... wait.
By now."
He took another deep breath.
"By now the Protectorate must of begun to mobilise... right?"
"Yeah... I mean, they would've begun to evacuate the nearby cities... right? and start preparing shuttles to get people off world.
But..."
He leaned over and coughed again, before continuing.
"Unless... of course. Unless the Protectorate were working with the LSN. Unless they were planning to cut off everyone's escape. And drown us all here, in a sea of fire.
Godless monsters..."
Ren, giving into the pain. Decided to simply sit down on his hunches.
He took a sooteded finger, and scratched his head.
He needed to get his thoughts straight.
Everything was a mess. He was having a hard time remembering what was going on.
Closing his stinging eyes, he tried to breath slowly.
He needed to get back to the house.
Simple.
Get back to the... house?
Basement.
Yes. Basement.
Must be. Something there that can help.
A drop of, something, began to roll down the bridge of his nose.
Reaching a quivering hand up. He wiped a drop of blood from his nose. He was. Bleeding.
By some twist of archaic luck, he had hit himself on one of the most boring things in the cosmos. A rock.
He looked at the little thing on the ground before him, a little bit of crimson smudged on its face.
Its cold exterior mocking him for having hopes and dreams.
"Some bloody work of luck that is..."
He said to himself.
And began to slowly, slowly, oh so slowly, shuffle up the hill side.
YOU ARE READING
World In Turmoil
Bilim KurguAmongst the empires of the galaxy. Between the factions and the territories. On a rustic world left to itself. A young man had heros once... They were a force sworn to protect. They were a navy of saviours. In a time of need. ...
