Steven Universe: Anticrystal, Part 1

On March 30th, 2017, the Earth was demolished by a secret force known by many names across the world. The most common was "The Cluster." This event was a signal for the invading forces of Homeworld, known as the Invaders, to colonize the planet and take it as their own. Billions were killed, leaving only a few million to survive across the world, spread out from everyone. Few even know that anyone else is still alive.

In the coastal area of Beach City, Delmarva, the surviving residents have formed a refugee group that must hide from the invading forces. These residents are led by Gregory DeMayo, and his adopted daughter. They are caught in the crossfires of an ongoing war that has lasted centuries between the Invaders and a rebellious force. The people of Beach City have been cautioned to avoid both parties, as involving themselves in either will result in certain death.

The Rebels call themselves the Crystal Blades. They are a group of 5 Homeworld Gems who have rebelled against their government, The M.I.D.A.H. They have made efforts to thwart them for years. To take down their tyrannical leader and claim it as their own. And to start this plan by taking back a world that has already been lost. Even though they try desperately to win against the Invaders, the Crystal Blades have begun to lose the world they hope to take back. And The M.I.D.A.H. has taken great strides in the way of ensuring the rebels do not succeed.

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All is silent. The streets that ran all around the city are empty. Littered with garbage, old clothes, and newspapers that warned everyone of an impending doom. Of seismic waves from the center of the Earth that were "worrisome" and "unusual." Those words were nothing short of an understatement when compared to the mass destruction from such a gargantuan force. Napkins fluttered in the air holding the souls of the dead in its chilling grasp. The wind howled like banshees, hoping to save what remains of their city's population. Leave this place, they say, only death awaits you here. The change in environment certainly didn't help the climate, either. More clouds had arisen. Stronger tides and cooler air. Those left in this place were too scared to see what else had happened to their beautiful world, choosing instead to hide underground. Although sounding like a stupid idea, and rightfully so, there was good reason for it. There were vultures. Vultures that came in large, pastel-colored shells, swooping down upon the surface to take whatever scraps of food they could. Those that were caught in their sights didn't last much more than 5 seconds after. Vidalia can attest to that. And Sour Cream. And Yellowtail. Fryman. Nanefua. Buck. So many lives crumbled to nothing more than dust at the mercy of sunlight. Greg sat on a crate full of old Cookie Cat snacks, rubbing his temples at the recollections. So many lost. He looked up and around. Everyone except for Connie and him were sleeping. Good. They needed as many good dreams as they could get. In fact, any escape from their hellish reality would be cathartic in some way. They had traveled in a large group only a few hours after the earthquakes became too strong. They'd eventually made their way to an old tunnel that led into an abandoned subway station. It was pretty standard, two tunnels on either side of a central platform with two more platforms along the walls. The only problem was that most of the place was caved in after the earthquakes, luckily still leaving half of the central platform, one of the tunnels, and the entirety of the parallel platform. From some of the decor and designs, most speculated that it was frequented sometime in the '40s or '50s. It smelled of diesel and old shoes, with barely any light being able to come through at all. A few had tried to find a generator or circuit breaker that could work. Nonesuch luck. So, they lived in the luminescence of lanterns, flashlights, even some candles if they were careful enough, only surfacing every 5 days for food and water. It was cold down there. Especially in the winter. Thankfully, it was spring, so they wouldn't have to worry about those temperatures for quite some time. Greg had lost track of time, as keeping track of a calendar became irrelevant by then, but if he had to guess, he'd say they'd been living there for about a year or so. He got up, walking over to Connie, who was perched on one of the benches near the bathrooms and the right-hand entrance to the exit tunnel. Always the watchful guardian. Greg thought, smirking. She held a small kitchen knife, as Greg didn't quite trust her with any other type of weapon just yet, and wore a teal shirt beneath her Dad's old jacket. She also wore some pretty baggy denim pants and red flip-flops. He sat down next to her, trying to read her face and see what she was thinking about. How she was feeling. She'd since become good at masking her emotions, something that few others of the group had even considered. Smiley in particular. Her features were difficult to make out in the dim light of an old lantern, but Greg could tell that her eyebrows were furrowed just a bit. It was either a look of concentration or anger. Maybe both, knowing her. Greg thought.