Genesis

Prologue

     He gazed peacefully at the building before him. Perhaps thirty years ago, the building would have seemed like a fortress: its bright, white-brick body standing as tall as the sky itself, coupled with a skeleton of metal beams planted in the Earth like the roots of an ancient tree. But the building wasn't old at all. In fact, it's seemingly endless rows of glistening glass windows indicated that it was quite new, just like everything else in New Indus Eco-City.

     When he thought about this building, and every other building in New Indus, there was one particular word that always came to mind; daunting. Perhaps, it had to be daunting, he thought, as he remembered why it was built. It was funny to him that it was all the fault of one chemist, whose accidental genius cooked up the most devastating drug that would ever hit the streets. A drug that, once consumed, could turn regular people into rioters, arsonists, and murderers.

     It was not uncommon during this Neo-Dark Age to look outside and see the house across from yours burning to the ground. After all, every luxury that should have been afforded to the 2030s was now gone: you couldn't drive your car without being assaulted, taking a stroll in your local park was out of the question, and common necessities like water and electricity could not always be guaranteed. And so, out of the darkness of what was commonly referred to as the Outbreak, rose places like New Indus: fortified, self-sufficient eco-cities that could withstand a nuclear war. That is, for those who could afford it.

     He returned his eyes to the daunting building before him and thought about how it seemed a little deceptive. Unless you'd been from the time and the place, you could never have guessed that it was a high school. In fact, it was one of the best high schools in the country. Many would say that such an impressive building was fitting for the children of the generation, entering a strong society forged by the hardship of two decades before. 

     However, he thought that this was total bullshit. 

     The particular children sitting in the school before him were largely unaffected by the Outbreak. They were too sheltered to remember the violent world of their youth. On the other side of the economic gap, many children could not afford the luxury of ignorance. Their damned realities were a constant reminder that the world would never be the same for children, and it was all because of one drug.

     The drug, which was commonly referred to as Rage, primarily affected children and teens. Whereas an adult could take the drug and get an adrenaline high, children would take it and become murderous. It is for this reason that the havoc which wreaked the 2030s began with gangs of children. They took to the streets like hurricanes, spraying gasoline, lighting matches, and killing anyone who got in the way of their destruction. Of course, this was all before the Anti-Rage Act of 2032, justifying the use of any force necessary to contain the spread of Rage.

     The act sparked a war against the youth of the nation. Middle-aged vigilantes and trigger-happy recruits were now allowed to roam the streets, killing any child within sight. Juries and judges, who were horrified by the extreme crime caused by the drug, were more than happy to pardon any citizen who helped clean up their streets. The lucky few children who escaped death by being detained were sent straight to a new kind of juvenile detention center, to which they were sure to be condemned for the rest of their lives.

     His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind the bench he was sitting on. He recognized the footsteps immediately and was not surprised when a hand was placed on his shoulder.

     "It's time to go," the man behind him said, his voice carrying the same amount of familiarity as his stride.

     "Not yet," he replied.