A/N1111Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡYNDQgzQeLB
This story was posted back when Penana only had under 100 users. I'm reposting quite a few stories onto this collection, so that all of my short stories are on here. Purely for organization.1111Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmFJWaMBAPD
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Gaiden Fort. The last piece of humanity. One last struggle to live. The only Utopia left in the Chaos... or so the Harbingers say so.
It all started with a boy. He didn't know what he was doing, but he did know he was digging for... something. That something, though, became a source of power. Immense power. Not power of strength, no, but power of guidance. A beacon of hope that diminished all other hope... yes, it's difficult to explain.
Enough of my ramblings now, I believe you have a story to read.
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"How are you?"
Alexander had no idea that those words were a crime. He thought he was just being nice to the Wealthy boy. Alexander was just a boy, though, so he had no idea that it was bad to speak with the Wealthy. Nonetheless, the Enforcers gave him punishment. Three days in the Play Pen. One for every word.
But the Play Pen wasn't as bad as Alexander thought it would be. It had other little children playing about. Yes, it was a nice sanctuary for poor Alexander... until the yelling came. And the screaming. And the pain.
Alexander didn't remember why it was so painful. He only remembered a little girl, seven years old, only two years younger than Alexander himself, dead. She was recognizable to Alexander. Yes, she was a friend... but now blood was in his vision.
... Wait. Now Alexander has forgotten what was so frightening about the girl's appearance. The doctors have patched up Alexander all the way, and the only thing he remembers is that there was a type of pain in the Play Pen.
Oh, enough of that. It's Alexander's birthday! Celebrate! ... But Alexander has no friends. No, he had one friend, but she disappeared after he was put into the Play Pen. Alexander also has no father, because he was sentenced into the Pen for three years. And lastly, Alexander's mother became Lost just last year.
Oh, so sad, there's a Loss in town. It was Alexander's friend that was Lost. She must have disappeared into Chaos. So sad, because Alexander will never see her again.
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Now Alexander is much older. He's fourteen, at the age when he would probably do something to get him into the Pen. But he has been in the Play Pen, so how different could the Pen be from that? Yes, Alexander won't do anything stupid to get him into the Pen.
But... boys are stupid, aren't they? Perhaps, but Alexander was far from stupid... okay, maybe a little stupid. But I'd rather say he was ignorant.
Anyways, Alexander kept seeing an old man. More specifically, me. The Old Man. One of the ancient Lost. Yes, I told Alexander, "Sanctuary awaits you, and it is nothing like the one sanctuary you have been to. So grab a table knife, or perhaps two, and stab the Wealthy boy who had shamed you."
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He did it. He stabbed the Wealthy boy that put him in the Play Pen those years ago. But... now he runs. Why does he run?
Why do I run? Alexander asked himself, Am I in trouble?
"Why, Alexander," I told him, "You may be in trouble, but your sanctuary awaits you, in the midst of Chaos. Retreat outside the walls into the Chaos, and you will see that there are plains past it that is not so chaotic."
He listened. He ran. He found what people called "Chaos".
He first saw abandoned buildings, in a grid-like pattern. There were black streets, instead of the white that is in Gaiden Fort, his home. He saw weird, yellow dotted line patterns on the streets; some lines were white, and some lines were connected as one long line. They were odd to Alexander, foreign.
Alexander went through a narrow alleyway. He tried to look for something sharp, because he could hear the Gate opening, and the hum of hundreds of hovercrafts behind him. Why was he looking for something sharp, though? What good would it do? Alexander did not know, but it was an instinct. But, Alexander did not find anything sharp.
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Next, after running what felt like many leagues, he found an ice land. It was not cold, though, but instead kept the same temperature as everywhere in the Chaos. There were odd three-segmented figures everywhere. They had buttons on them, and carrots, and they were made out of spheres of whiteness. On one figure, the top segment looked like a face to Alexander. He smiled at the face, but then the face frowned.
"Run," the white, three-segmented figure said to Alexander, "Run, run." And so, Alexander kept running.
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He next found a canyon, with red walls going high. The walls felt smooth, and the temperature was still the same. Alexander kept running through the canyon.
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After what seemed like one hundred more leagues, Alexander found a large, grass-filled area.
"It is called plains," I told him. He looked around, trying to find out where I was, and how I had gotten there so fast. He found nothing but the echo of my voice.
After looking around confusingly, Alexander looked straight across the plains. He saw something: a large structure, towering over the plains. "Mountain," I said. He nodded in awe. He also noticed that the temperature changed, somehow. It felt more... cozy.
He also saw buildings. He knew that they were buildings, because there were people, as small as pebbles in the distance. "Home," Alexander said to himself. That was when I finally saw him.
I finally saw the boy. He stood at a normal height; he had light, brown hair that curled at the end, his skin was pale, as if seeing the sun for the first time in years (and this was his first time seeing the sun); and lastly, his left eye was emerald green, his right crystal blue.
His appearance reminded me of myself when I was a boy... only he wasn't digging.
ns 15.158.61.48da2
