~Deux cœurs, Deux mondes~

~Deux cœurs, Deux mondes~

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing18m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Sep 6, 2024
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Fiction
Science Fiction
En 2141, la terre est ravagée par un gaz toxique nommé, "Le gaz mortel" qui a transformé à jamais le monde que tel qu'on connait. Ce gaz est omniprésent dans des zones extérieures des anciennes villes, rendant l'air mortel pour les humains. Invisible à l'œil nu, le gaz tue rapidement ceux qui n'ont pas de masques respiratoires. Il est à l'origine d'une nouvelle race, les géants. Les humains vivent sous la protection des dômes, coupés du monde extérieur et ses dangers. Les dômes sont autarciques, avec des systèmes complexes pour recycler l'air, l'eau et les autres ressources vitales. Ils vivent sous un contrôle social étouffant. Ceux qui ont survécu au gaz toxique, ils subissent soit une mort certaine ou une transformation terrible. Leur corps grandit de façon spectaculaire, ils mesurent environ 9 mètres de haut et leurs yeux sont vert émeraude, signe distinctif des géants. Dotés d'une force surhumaine, les géants vivent loin des humains en plein nature. Ils sont perçus, par les humains restants, comme des êtres dangereux et sauvages. Les humains croient que ces géants ne sont que des monstres. Ou peut-être pas pour certains des humains ?
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Through thick and thin the Law shall prevail. A new sense of purpose awaits us, children of light, in the land where it all began. The darkness in which we once cowered in fear, now curbed by the might of our endless light. Come, brothers, come, sisters. Let there be peace among the wicked, just as the Law dictates. Peace and certainty is all that you have ever longed for, little angel. A bright, stable future. A roof without holes above thy head. Acknowledgement and recognition of thy existence, feverish dreams of grandeur. Greed born from yearning, treacherous vines of rapacity taint your innocent soul. You seek a future that does not exist. Let thy fingers hold the fragile line between dream and nightmare. Let thy light navigate the path. Shall thee give in and falter, O' land of old, envelop his body in thy unending flame of chaos. Spit out nothing but an empty husk, the remnants of a smile once so bright. Shall thee prevail, O', Great Kazdel, I ask of you, the impossible - take mercy on the innocent. Don't let the radiance dim and don't let the mind turn bleak. Wake, young traveler. Bid thy farewells and burn thy bridges. It's time to say goodbye, curly head. Cross post from AO3. For a shorter and more on-point description, look no further! I had something silly written up before throwing it out in exchange for that wall of text upstairs. It's a little story "about a young, dumb sankta who's been dealt a bad hand at life, looking for his place in all this mess. The pointless search for a better future leads him far, far away from home, to a country forever ravaged by war and misery - Kazdel, the promised land where devils roam free and peace feels out of place." Anyway, it's quite lengthy, but hopefully enjoyable? Slide a comment if you want, I'll give you a tiny kiss on the forehead. Man, do I love comments. (Lastly, to point out, English is not my native language, but I don't think it'll be much of an issue ;3)

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