Post by Hero on Apr 5, 2017 18:25:36 GMT
Halycon was the grand black desert and its wanderers whom were diligent and supercilous all the same. It was through their faith that they had developed a visceral motivation to march in the name of their lord, crashing their feet into the blistering hot sands in silent worship of their sacred king. Even as the enormous green sun attempted to enervate their resolve physically and mentally, their spirits carried them when their bodies no longer could. Some sacrificed themsleves to the sands, dying before they had even hit the ground. Others were already dead, but marched on nonetheless. Some viewed their rituals as superflous, and others asinine, but only they who devoted their lives to the God of Dragons could truly understand the necessity of their devotions. Raised on the teachings of old, others watched them from afar in orbital stations and at the behest of their respective governments, remarking to their raditions as impetuous and inconsequential, but only those who crossed the burning sands could understand the power of the king. Those who couldn't were haughty, complacent, their minds unable to comprehend that which couldn't be explained by science or tangible offering— but they were all fools. Faith is where true power lay, and it was the teachings of the the undead prophet and the Aporaphix Debala that would bring about the prophecy foretold.
Their selfless steps of intrepidation would soon yield to some result, they knew it within their withering souls.
"How do they do it?" Boda whispered, staring at the monitor with a fat hand around his coffee and another fat hand hoisted underneath his thick, flabby chin. "Everyday these people march till the sun goes down...haven't had a single drink of damn water. Just completely okay with marching in that there damn heat, knowing they'll probably be dead in a matter of days...it just doesn't make sense..."
"Is it supposed to make sense?" Arroyo chirped, a far more slender man sitting to his right with his arms crossed yawned. "They haven't stepped an inch towards society and grew up on old unreliable text books from a differen generation. Show some empathy. They have no idea what they're doing, and the fact that we're forced to monitor them from up here tells us that neither does Nibiru, Elios, or probably any other regular society for that matter..."
"What a hypocrit...You're the main one who said they should hang the Maiden of Revolution when she decided to revolt against the new social reforms of Elios...wasn't she a country girl who didn't have any family? Now you're gonna take these guys side because they've chosen not ta' give a damn about anything but some old cook books? That vegetable diet's gettin' to yer' brain." Boda barked in defiance, very clearly unwilling to reconciliate after hearing his thin, bald counterparts opinions.
"It's not the same...and if you think that it is you're far less intelligent than I thought...I'm going to go complete my correspondence courses before the arrival of the next unit..." Arroyo dismissed the conversation, clearly uninterested in continuing any furhter. Rising from his seat he hovered to the back of the surveillance room onboard the monitoring station within the satellite and opened the door with his ID, slipping it back into the chest compartment of his slender aesthetic suit. "Cut these people some slack, they're human just like us. They're just living the only way they know how."
"T'ch, yeah ok..." the darker, obese Boda scoffed, leaning back in his comfortable office chair to watch more black robed bodies drop in the desert below. "Idiots."
"What is this...tingling feeling..." a voice spoke in an infinite darkness. "Tingling...an actual feeling...I can feel again...where am I...who am I..."
This voice that questioned its own existence was not internal, it echoed through the sands into the minds of its followers, whom stopped in disbelief, turning to one another in shock. Only the leader of the worshippers, Nox as he was called, remained unalarmed and largely unbothered by the voice. Behind his thick plated mask were crimson eyes devotion, and the moment that he heard a deep, dark voice rise from the sands, he knew exactly who it was.
"We're almost there..."
Their selfless steps of intrepidation would soon yield to some result, they knew it within their withering souls.
"How do they do it?" Boda whispered, staring at the monitor with a fat hand around his coffee and another fat hand hoisted underneath his thick, flabby chin. "Everyday these people march till the sun goes down...haven't had a single drink of damn water. Just completely okay with marching in that there damn heat, knowing they'll probably be dead in a matter of days...it just doesn't make sense..."
"Is it supposed to make sense?" Arroyo chirped, a far more slender man sitting to his right with his arms crossed yawned. "They haven't stepped an inch towards society and grew up on old unreliable text books from a differen generation. Show some empathy. They have no idea what they're doing, and the fact that we're forced to monitor them from up here tells us that neither does Nibiru, Elios, or probably any other regular society for that matter..."
"What a hypocrit...You're the main one who said they should hang the Maiden of Revolution when she decided to revolt against the new social reforms of Elios...wasn't she a country girl who didn't have any family? Now you're gonna take these guys side because they've chosen not ta' give a damn about anything but some old cook books? That vegetable diet's gettin' to yer' brain." Boda barked in defiance, very clearly unwilling to reconciliate after hearing his thin, bald counterparts opinions.
"It's not the same...and if you think that it is you're far less intelligent than I thought...I'm going to go complete my correspondence courses before the arrival of the next unit..." Arroyo dismissed the conversation, clearly uninterested in continuing any furhter. Rising from his seat he hovered to the back of the surveillance room onboard the monitoring station within the satellite and opened the door with his ID, slipping it back into the chest compartment of his slender aesthetic suit. "Cut these people some slack, they're human just like us. They're just living the only way they know how."
"T'ch, yeah ok..." the darker, obese Boda scoffed, leaning back in his comfortable office chair to watch more black robed bodies drop in the desert below. "Idiots."
"What is this...tingling feeling..." a voice spoke in an infinite darkness. "Tingling...an actual feeling...I can feel again...where am I...who am I..."
This voice that questioned its own existence was not internal, it echoed through the sands into the minds of its followers, whom stopped in disbelief, turning to one another in shock. Only the leader of the worshippers, Nox as he was called, remained unalarmed and largely unbothered by the voice. Behind his thick plated mask were crimson eyes devotion, and the moment that he heard a deep, dark voice rise from the sands, he knew exactly who it was.
"We're almost there..."