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Rated: E · Fiction · Mystery · #1594914
Descriptive.
Intro



It had only been three years since the sun made its marvelous return. Years: puzzling to the scientist, hated by the goons, welcomed by the trees, and even heartwarming to the harshest of prisoners. However, not everyone was fascinated with glamourous star, besides the goons of course, or its valuable benefits. A typical historian might say, "Their the ones worth studying." On the other hand, a pyrotechnician might refer to them as the big bang. Either way, these particular individuals hid among the mass, and had a say in every political decision. For instance, the approval of two very controversial projects. Fortunately, all of this was unknown to the average, an unimaginative, citizens. After all, knowing why today's forecast contained clouds could be rather nerve wrecking.



Fortress



"Anti-to-Social"



Phase 1



I am dark. I have non-imitation. My perception is corruption. Do not be fooled. A swan enticing like flowers? Indeed I'm not. The residue of nova. I keep to myself. Attentive of my situation and the horror of isolation.



Beneath thunderous clouds, thousands of "oohs" and "aahs" could be heard from intrigued, yet confused, civilians. Such a spectacle normally enthralled Rezzel, but today was different then usual. It was not like his sanity had been lost, or the birds did not chirp during the morning hours; rather, something untangible was smoldering around his essence. Tsk, weather problems around this time of year, Rezzel thought. Block-by-block curiosity slowly became anxiety, which in turn, led to panic.



"Ah Rezzel, you have not changed one bit my young friend," a weary voice said. "I assume you have no idea what's unfolding beyond these walls."



Rezzel sighed, gesturing for the elderly man to take a seat.



"Yes, this storm shouldn't be here, or rather, the--" "I'm not concerned about this city Misalez."



The elderly man clinched his fist, but calmly asked, "Then what do you care about Drifter?"



Rezzel's eyes widened.



"Well?!" Misalez demanded.



Never mind this old fool... is..s it r...raining now, Rezzel thought.



"You know... he said you wouldn't aid us," Misalez said.



"He?" Rezzel snapped from pondering.



"Elusica," Misalez said.



Thunder rattled the building.



"..."



"Anyway, it's time I departed. But you will aid us," Misalez said.



Rezzel looked askance at the elderly man.



"Oh, right, I didn't mention the fact we repossessed Mercurid from a certain organization," Misalez said.



"Well now, that explains my uneasiness of late," Rezzel said.



Misalez winced.



"This storm is no mere coincidence is it?" Rezzel asked.



"Hahaha, I thought you didn't care. But, no, it's not. Understand Rezzel, they're not here because of that sword of yours. I can't reveal anymore, but, be on guard... there's a storm coming, or rather, it's already here, or-- "I get it."



A smile crept across elderly man's face.



"Good Rezzel, good," Misalez said.



Rezzel leaned back in his chair and coldly said, "I never thought I'd hold that sword again. Better yet, I never thought I'd have a chance to crush Fortress. I guess that saying "Good things come to those who wait" really is true."



The storm applauded.



End of Phase 1
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