Chapter #1

The beginning of Aero's long journey, along with what's been happening in this strange new world...

~Chapter #1~

"Hey!"

His eyes shot open and he instinctively curled away from the noise in defense, waiting for the attacker to move in so he could slide behind and knock out atleast one leg-.

"Hey! Move it, you!"

He glanced up through blurred eyes to see a ragged old man with a small metal cart sitting in front of him. By the look of the knarled beard, grease-covered hands, and the strange assortment of coils and boxes overflowing the rickety pushcart, it was obvious the hermit was a dumpster drifter. Common type of people to find down here in the Catacombs.

"Are you just goin' to sit there gawkin'? I said move it!" the older man growled at the person who had been sprawled out across the alleyway, sleeping only moments ago.

The young man struggled to his feet and moved out of the way, his back against the brick wall as he smiled and generously bowed to the short, scruffy fellow. The old hermit grunted disgustedly and pushed the cart on and down the dark, narrow alley.

As soon as the drifter vanished, the grin on the man's face depleted as he dusted himself off from the soot covering the streets. He began his routine pocket check; some loose change, a dried crescent roll, and a folded piece of paper. He smirked to himself, knowing full well that he never carried anything anyone would find valuable. He then stuffed the hardened roll into his mouth as he turned around and picked up a wrinkled newspaper strewn out across some broken plywood boards. In the cluster of them, the man reached down and lifted out his black steel cane, which he had hidden there the night before. He wiped it down with the corner of his silver grey trench coat before placing it firmly in his right palm and leaning down on it comfortably.

He looked down at his left hand and noticed that he was still holding the crumpled newspaper. In one fluid motion, he flattened the periodical with a whip of the hand and began scanning the headlines before remembering how much he hated the news:

Another Devistating Misfire

In late evening of yesterday, a terrorist attack had been attempted, the explosion taking out a number of small housings, including a Guardiant Factory and a small part of Pod Square. Twenty-three civilians were injured, three of which were sent to ImmediCare. Sources say that the bombing was designated to reach the Nesting Tower and Eastern side of the Royal Palace, a major section of the Hive. Rumor has it that the attempt was organized and initiated by none other than the IRO, an illegal alliance bent on...

The man rolled his eyes and was about to rip the article to shreds when something caught his eye at the very bottom of the page:

Welcome To-

Lapierre Festíval!

Dine with the most Sophisticated!

This later evening.

-Upper Class Members Only-

The man crushed the newspaper into a small wad and tossed it behind him. He opened his trench coat and tucked away the long cane into the straps lining the inside of the clothing. He then closed and buttoned up the long coat, getting ready to venture out into the brisk morning chill. As he placed his hands in his pockets, he felt something crinkle and peered down as he pulled out the small folded piece of paper. He smiled faintly at it, nodded to himself, and placed the parchment back in his pocket. The man looked behind him at the newspaper wad lying on the ground and smirked wryly at it. He popped the collar of his coat and brushed his jet black hair down over his eyes. Upper class, he thought as he shook his head and began walking out onto the cobblestone street, maybe it's time to crash the party...

~

The year is 143 A.A. (After Arrival). More than a century has passed since the Old World has been seen with the naked eye. It's said that there are no more Originals; humans who had lived during the Old World, and so there is no longer any true recollection of what it was like or even the image of it.

All of that dissapated with the coming of the Colony. Their superior functions, advanced thought performances and all-round modus operandi overwhelmed the simplistic government structures and narrow-minded beings in charge to the point that it soon became acceptable for their high intellect to rule decisions for humans. Once given in, the species of Homosapiens was soon after domesticated, having relinquished the governmental power to the Colony in hopes to end all fighting conflicts. Which they eventually achieved in doing, but for a small handful of prices that, at the time, humans accepted without question.

The largest payment was the removal and banishment of religion. The sense of believing in something exceeding the Colony was seen as dishonorable and so all forms of sanctification and religious practices were ruled as forbidden. The churches, synagogues, temples and all other holy places were reconstructed and assembled into machine factories, for future technology to move forward. No one would have guessed the technology would have moved so rapidly...

Out of some of the smaller prices, the one most humans looked over was identity. The feeling of individuality became a dissolution as the countries began to coelesce into the three large dominating territories. The Westerns, better known as the United Dragon Seas, nested within the "free lands" with the rediculous intention on living alongside humans. Rumors have said that the idea of working together would bring better understanding and remove differences between the race of Man and Machine. This seemingly improbable concept did not reach out to the other two territories, especially not the Howling Dynasty. Dwelling underground in their mountainous fortress, the Howling Dynasty were a more aggressive breed of Colony. They lusted for power and strength, savoring only humans who could be firm enough to handle the life on their own. It was luck that Mother Nature's earthquake ruptured the remaining terrain connecting the Dynasty to the Hive.

The Hive, the central domain of this new world, had it's lustrious landscape of rolling hills, farmland and forests demolished and industrialized into towering obelisks of steamengine-powered foundaries. Their tall chimneystacks reached upward like extended fingers choking the sky above with their smoke and smog, covering the territory in ash and darkness. Sunlight became a meer myth within the area as the only source of brightness was from the dimly lit gaslamps strewn above the cobblestone streets.

The roads of the Catacombs, the lower end of the Hive, were rancid and vile. Homeless peasants cluttered the sidewalks as drifters and drunks slunk and stumbled around them. Large horse carriages and rusted, steamengined vehicles rattled quickly past, not wishing to tarry for long in the Catacomb alleys. The place was known to be sinister, clustered with gangsters and thugs who preyed on the weak, helpless and and anyone else who couldn't live up to the district of Whitechapel. That's what happens when you don't have the right blood.

The Hive had a peculiar accord with the humans. They were permitted to live in their territory but at a payment of categorization. Small mechanical insects known as Drones would be released among the people, retrieving samples of blood from each person and retreating back to the Nest. No one knows what they do with the vital fluid, but then no one ever questions the Colony's reasoning. In return for the sampling, the preferred blood-types (known as the Experienced Blood) were admitted to thrive within the gates of Whitechapel. On the outside lay the rest of the Hive nation, slowly rotting away because of negligence from the Colony.

However, rules still applied to even those less fortunate than Experienced Blood. Rules that were said to have been written and ordered by the Queen herself, the mysterious diety controlling the Hive's every action with invisible strings. No one has ever layed eyes upon her, or anyone alive that is. Her illusive image and voice are translated through a gentlman known as the Jack of All Trades, who has entitled to be the Queen's son. And he translated her orders fairly well. Even now, the Jack of All Trades' illustrious and accursed voice rang through the large speakerphones as he recited the pledge to the Colony and explained with picturesque words how marvelous their Queen was to everyone. The sound reached out down the streets to the man who cringed and shivered inside his trench coat as it washed over him.

That voice...

Pure hatred rushed through his mind as the speech seemed to grow louder with each gradual step he took. It never stopped following him, even in his deepest of sleep, quickly morphing calming dreams into his darkest nightmares...

"You're sentence...is death."

In the steady, chilled air a sudden large gust of wind came rolling down the alleyway and smashed into the large speakers hanging from the streetposts. They burst and sputtered electrical gasps before dying out altogether-one even falling off it's hinges and crashing to the gravel floor below. As soon as the strong, hammering wind appeared, it quickly subsided and died out, leaving few spectators puzzled at the strange occurance.

He just shrugged and kept on walking. Smirking slightly, he basked in the freshly quiet silence of the mirky street...

~

Crowds began to emerge as the morning clouds began their gloomy parade across the ash-ridden sky. Men in elegant top hats and tail coats appeared, shouting for a passing carriage to board toward the Winnchester District or other sections further south where the corporations or larger businesses ran. Women in intricate and dazzling dresses paraded down the streets, stopping here and there to gossip in huddled clusters with one another, or even to grab an unsuspecting man's attention with their beauty and charm. Tall, looming Cathedrals started smoking from their steeple chimneystacks as the inner furnaces were kicked on, readying to begin another day of manufacturing, burning ashes and acrid smog into the air.

He watched all of this take place as he strolled along the uneven cobblestone, closing his eyes for a moment and imagining better and grander things, knowing all too well it was all fake and full of lies...

Surprise came over him as his face suddenly bumped into a taller gentleman;s shoulder, “Ah! I'm terribly sorry-.”
The big man whirled around to face him, his bulging muscles rippling as he glared angrily at the intrusion, “Watch it, ya soot sodder!” The man then returned to his relentless harassment of a poor young woman, who was obviously from a Drifting family due to the dirt covering her face, hands and flaking off her rusted red scarf, “Come on now, lil' doll. Why not show me what you're made of?”
The young girl shied away from the ogre of a man who reached out at her. His face scrunched into an even more calloused face as his temper rose and he raised his hand to slap her.

There was a flash of movement as someone suddenly was gripping hold of the bulky man's raised arm. He turned, fury escalating in his eyes as he looked down at the smaller man who had bumped into him earlier holding onto his wrist, examining the shiny gold watch, “Exquisite! That is a rare find my friend, to have a...what is it called? Wrist-watch? They've just started selling these to the Experienced Bloods, right?” The man moved farther down the angered bully's arm, touching the sleeve and feeling the fabric, “And this suit! It must be straight off the Tailor's Market!”

The colossal giant gritted his teeth, taking his free hand and swinging it toward the awkward young bloke. But with quick and nimble effort, the younger man ducked out of the way, his dark green eyes flashing, “But you know, that ensemble seems to be slightly unfit for you.” There was a swift motion and a sturdy cane came crashing into the large man's jaw, snapping his head back and causing him to black out altogether...

He adjusted the cufflinks and patted down the rest of the dust accumulated on the new suit Henry had acquired. He glanced over at the ruffian now laying nude in the shadowed alleyway and then up at the fair girl who stood before him. Henry smiled faintly at her before turning around and showing off for her, “Well, do you think it works?”

“It seems to suit you just fine,” she giggled, her entire expression more joyous than moments before, “I can't thank you enough for helping me there.”

He bowed gracefully, acting out within his new disguise, “But ofcourse, milady,” getting more chuckles out of her as he tried to make his voice sound more elegant.

“You flatter me good sir,” she responded with a curtsy. It was then that he caught her beauty as she smiled at him, her blonde hair falling down from under her small cap. She seemed to had been hiding her looks under a tomboy-ish outfit; goggles hanging loosely around her neck and tattered old jeans, but when he took the time to look he saw her dainty hands and fair skin to be quite clean for someone down in the southern Catacombs.

“Noticing something?” the woman cocked her head to the side as Henry noticed he'd been staring.

He felt his face get red and stammered, “N-no, sorry, just simply wondering why someone so fair as you would be wandering these parts of the city.”

Her azure eyes gleamed as she smirked, “More flattery, sir? You really are too much. But truly I still thank you...” and she reached out to take his hand. Henry instinctively drew his hand back and cleared his voice, “Right, well, it's...probably best if you head out of here. I'm the kind of person who only attracts trouble, so it's best y-you forget you ever saw me.”

She blinked in surprise but nodded in understanding. After fixing her cap, dusting off her jacket and brushing the strands of light hair out of her eyes she smiled one last time to him before walking past and out into the main streets. He watched her as she left, and as she rounded the corner he felt his hand go slightly numb. Should he have let her closer to him? Why must I always be on the fence?

The numbness quickly passed and he reminded himself that he had earlier plans to deal with. Happiness was something he could not afford to stop for. He tipped his newly acquired bowler hat forward slightly before brandishing his cane, feeling the cold steel against his palm, breathed in heavily and moved out into the ashened cobblestone path.

It didn't take long before the large looming gate of the inner Whitechapel wall appeared before him. It was a magnificient sight to behold, its deep green and white marble chiselled down smoothly to form a colossal beast standing erect, thirty feet in height. It's wings stretched out wide, draping down and forming into the walls on either side of the archway positioned between it's clawed feet. The creatures large face sneered vehemently down at whoever would enter, it's talons outstretched and ready to attack any unwanted enemy. A dragon, said to have lived long before even the Old World, here to guard against intruders and to come awake to devour them. Or so the rumors explained for as long as Henry knew. But rumors were meant to be dispelled.
Henry rolled his shoulders and began his casual walk towards the large entrance, watching as the alabaster eyes of the dragon followed his every move. The hairs on his neck stood on end, the longing to no longer be seen by this monster urging him onward past the enormous claws and through the gateway to the other side. 

Reviews

[Matty Bosox]

Very good story....I would've liked a better view on the swarm and what they looked like in appearence....Obviously hive minded with no personality, kind of like the robots from the Matrix...Infact your story reminds me alot of the Matrix in certain aspects....How they enslaved humans and just used them as fuel....You have a very similar concept going on here...The one thing I really liked was the discription of the three nations....I would keep going with this though....Very good concept..