[right][sub][color=cecece][i]DAY 001[/i][/color] [color=af4052]◆[/color] [color=cecece][b]P R O L O G U E[/b][/color][/sub][/right][table][row][/row][row][cell][img]https://i.imgur.com/dz0AJ4E.jpeg[/img][color=2e2c2c]▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇▇[/color][/cell][cell][quote]
[color=dimgray]It starts with the bombing of the southern districts; sequestered domiciles stacked on top of one another, foundation and roofs and walls thatched with precious lean-to boarding of cardboard and wood, some bedeviled in shades of red; gaudy penmanship of military slogans engraved into metal, stand-by doctrines of the Govern gnawed on by flame. Tongues of fire wavered and spewed, belching out smog and smoke that coiled sluggishly through ruinations of poverty. It is televised as an accident, one of the manufacturing plants that specialized in steel imports and exports suddenly malfunctions during a routine quality check, the casualties are minimal, but warrant an investigation nonetheless. While Palmecia spares little expenses in its inquiry, the truth is far more sinister and controversial than official statements, the sluicing veracity that undulated through the eclipse of a deserted Soldier under the sullying moniker of The Harlot. Pronounced once as a biblical figure (a religious portfolio marked as forbidden fiction) that had arisen from the conceptional enterprise of shadow clothed in scarlet, origins unknown but cruelty undone from her immediate ascension to a key figure as The Agenda’s rivaling counterpart of complete and total annihilation. The mortal coil wavered in her design and intention. For the past five years, she had been quietly decimating the districts and rebellious fanatics that opposed Palmecia through public denouncement and defacing of well-known Govern property. Red-robed crazed worshippers invaded the ghettos, spreading far her influence, and uttered the word of an apocalypse delivered by her sanctioned hand, wrapt under the keen manipulation of an Aeon deliberate in its bestial wrath. 

The steel plant is just one of many that fall under her deliverance, combined with Palmecia’s routine decommissioning of various factories under law of The Central Operating System’s gradual screening of these facilities through every quarter of the governing year. Unemployment rates fluctuate and The Social Credit System scutinizes as applications roll in through financial aid.

It’s a system, a routine. 

And she wished nothing more than to eradicate it, disrupt it, foil every plan and intention, and bring forth a new age of death, rebirth.

Of life. 

The fires spread as if a lazy beast that prowled through the streets. It writhes and burns and pulsates with ruby cores and crimson shadows, climbing over buildings, homes, and establishments of small businesses. Palmecia deploys their Soldiers in assistance to the computerized fire suppressors that operate on a remote-located facility to substitute physical firefighters. One Soldier, in particular, familiar with such security runs in acccompiant of Palmecia police that secure the perimeter.

But it’s all a trap.

A trap that would, unwittingly propel a series of events that would conceptualize the meaning of life and death and the intricacies of fate that surrounded two souls intertwined as both dark and light. As both meant-to-be and never there. As if the inevitable collision of a star and nebula- a cosmic and divine intervention of life by solar design. If only they had not intervened.

For the greatest of evils lies not within the soul of a beast but within the soul of Man. 

 
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