Showing posts with label Scythe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Scythe. Show all posts

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

Scythe: The Neon Wolves

By Jon of the Shred & Jean-Pierre Van Damme





The Neon Wolves is a spiritual prequel to Jean-Pierre Van Damme's “End of Days.” Featuring 13 tracks and a slew of killer artists, Neon Wolves also features a 12,000 word short story by Jean-Pierre Van Damme and Jon of the Shred (with help from Ray Satler) and a side scroller beat 'em up developed by KFDDA and Jon of the Shred. (But mostly Kaleb.)

Synthetix.FM in association with Scythe and Hellrayser productions brings you two chapters of the story and a few screen shots from the game, “The Wrath of Pazuzu.” Enjoy!



 


Prologue
Tales of the Future

It is the year 2025, a dark and bloody time in the city of Macropolis. Violence and societal decay wreak havoc throughout the city, humanity suffocating from the stench of their own immoral depravity. The people have become cold and selfish, caring only about survival. The constant gang warfare throughout the streets and alleyways is a daily threat to their lives. The Macropolis Police department are powerless to stop it – most are either bought off or indifferent. And everyone is completely aware of the corruption - despite the lack of an effort from the mainstream media. Journalistic integrity is dead and rotting. The media twists stories and falsifies news to manipulate society, but the people are numb to it – too smart to fall for their lies, yet too apathetic to do anything to better the situation.

Throughout Macropolis, and even beyond the outskirts of the cities in desolate surrounding towns, gang members run unchallenged. Each of the gangs, instead, fight each other over business deals, some claimingstake in the arms distribution race and others recklessly trafficking dangerous synthetic drugs. Arms dealing was a profitable black market for the gangs. And so much more money was to be made off drugs. With millions living in poverty within Macropolis, hundreds of thousands were abusing drugs daily to dull their sorrows and inspire a counterfeit complacency, loyal clientele to the very gangs they feared.

Arrests were futile as the courts were paid off, blackmailed or threatened – very rarely would gang members receive a serious sentence. Entire juries had been murdered in the past, and the citizens of Macropolis were too scared to risk their lives to send a criminal to prison, when the imprisoned would be quickly replaced with three more.

The skyline of Macropolis is dotted with colourful neon billboards and sprawling skyscrapers. The streets below are flooded with garbage. A thick smog cloud hangs over the city, coating the streets in a perpetual haze. And Macropolis never sleeps. You can hear constant brawling of outlaws, gun shots and shattering glass, and the constant howling of sirens from police cars and ambulances.



Chapter One
The Neon Wolves

One of the toughest and most feared gangs throughout Macropolis is the Neon Wolves, a rag tag group of road weary bikers. “Blood and honour” is the Neon Wolve’s mantra, and the code they live by. In contrast to many of the other Macropolis gangs, the Neon Wolves steer clear of drug dealing. None of the members of the club think kindly of the cheap synthetic drugs flooding the streets. But they more than make up for their drug sobriety with the alcohol they imbibe.

The club finances itself through small, victimless crimes and security gigs. The Neon Wolves collect protection money from local strip clubs and bars, providing these businesses with protection from smaller gangs. When money is particularly rough, the Neon Wolves steal cars for their richest client, a mysterious man who has them drive the stolen merchandise to a holding container at the Macropolis port. The Neon Wolves do get their hands dirty, but they never resort to dealing drugs or assassination contracts – their crimes were victimless. The blood of the innocent would not stain their hands. It was only in self defense they killed.

The Neon Wolves currently had 13 members in their ranks. They were certainly not the biggest club in town, but the Neon Wolves had the highest reputation among the citizens of Macropolis. The citizens trusted the Neon Wolves, and some even drank with them. Loyalty and brotherhood came first for them, and the citizens admired their ethics...and feared their wrath.

All orders were executed with moral precision. But business is business. There was no renegotiating contracts, no cheating out a client. And untrustworthy clients would not go unpunished...they were guilty. They had abandoned their innocence. Trust and loyalty are essential to the longevity of the club and all are their business relationships.

One of the clubs few rules required every member to own their own hover bike. Their traditional attire was that of denim cowls and leather vests, featuring an insignia of the Neon Wolves logo on each cut. Club members to ascend past the rank of soldier would have the clubs logo tattooed.
Out of 13 members there are 4 prospects, a President, a Vice President, a female hacker who relayed information to the gang, a guru mechanic and a weaponry enthusiast.

The weapons expert, Casey Jones, was a former Macropolis police officer. He was suspended from duty after an incident with a local serial killer. Casey witnessed the dreaded Butcher of Macropolis kill a young woman right in front of him. He was on the scenes mere seconds into the murder, just short of saving her life. The Macropolis Police Department had been tracking this lunatic for months...and here he stood before him, butchering an innocent woman. Casey saw red, rushed forward and beat the butcher half to death with just his fists, recklessly abandoning protocol in his blind rage. But he was too late...the woman died. He was expelled from the force when the Butcher of Macropolis was deemed brain dead - his cache of bodies may never be discovered now. Since that day, that moment in fact, Casey turned his back on the law.

Casey is in charge of the armoury and personally sees to the maintenance of all pistols and rifles. A talented marksman with an extensive knowledge of guns and other weaponry, he was in charge of all arms deals, and was quite the salesman at that. Arms dealing was one of the most profitable businesses for the Neon Wolves. Casey Jones wore a signature brown trench coat with the patch of the club on it’s back. He never left the house unarmed.

Wayne Namtab serves as the Neon Wolve’s mechanic. Wayne used to run his own hover bike shop, until the Macropolis economy went belly up and he started losing money. He had been an ally of the Neon Wolves for years, and when his business went under they immediately welcomed him into the fold. Renowned as a master with the screwdriver, it is said Wayne could repair anything with a little time and some duct tape. Wayne has short black hair and generous stubble. Wayne’s face is decorated with deep scars from his days as a veteran in the war with Jakith. He took to wearing a welder’s face shield when in battle, and the tradition carried over when he started running assignments with the Neon Wolves. In his spare time Wayne hits the weights, and is the biggest and strongest member of the club.

The hacker Ayane Kirito was one of the women in the club. She is a master of espionage and online crimes, her username RikYa being feared in the hacker community and internet black markets alike. Ayane maintained radio contact with everyone as she monitored all operations from the Neon Wolves fortified home base located underneath their bar.

Ayane had installed an internal GPS tracker to keep into each hover bike to keep constant surveillance on the team. She hacked the frequencies so only she had access to their locations. Additionally, Ayane hacks into numerous frequencies to monitor the police radio, news media outlets, and even Daymon Corporation activities. She aspires to one day hack into Paragon, a feat no hacker had ever accomplished. Through targeted hacker attacks, Ayane ensures that nothing is reported about the club’s more dubious jobs and makes sure the member’s criminal files are kept clean. She has shoulder-length pink hair and several piercings. Ayane was quite attractive, not just physically, but in her warm personailty and bright feminine manner. She was dating President Shadow, and she was tough as nails to boot.

Ray Savoini was the newly appointed Vice President, and besides Shadow, Ray is the last of the surviving founding members. Ray and Shadow grew up as boys in the same apartment blocking, finding themselves in dangerous situations together frequently. They have always had each others backs, and have fought side by side many times. Ray has a long, full beard and a large septum piercing through his nose. Ray frequently ties his long hair back into a pony tail. When his older brother was killed, Ray Savoini took on the mantle as vice president. The Wolves voted in favour of his promotion unanimously – a true testament to his moral code and loyal character.

________

Hope you guys enjoyed the first two chapters! To check out the rest of the story, follow this link to the bandcamp page (https://jonoftheshred.bandcamp.com/album/the-neon-wolves) and be sure to check out www.scythesaga.com to play the game!

And now, for some screen shots of the video as produced by Scythe sub-division Hellrayser Studios. In “The Wrath of Pazuzu,” you'll play as Thomas Shadow, younger brother of the Neon Wolves President Michael Shadow. The events take place several years before the events of “The Neon Wolves.” Here are some screen shots to give you an idea.
























Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Scythe: Mutant Devolution

by Jon of the Shred

Chapter 1: Paragon



Chaos raged through the Paragon laboratory and the city around it. Camp Terror was burning to the ground, warfare and bloodshed running rampant through the streets. Two rebellions had been sparked on this fateful night, the cause of all the chaos. Everything Paragon had built in the last 6 months was now burning to ash.



One group of rebels consisted of enraged citizens, who claimed Paragon was exploiting them. These people maintained the safety of the territory, they guarded all the walls, they did walks around the perimeter, usually performing all these tasks with little or no Paragon assistance. It was a group of citizens, not Paragon officials, who went out every two weeks on supply runs, risking their lives, sustaining heavy casualties. Meanwhile Paragon remained holed up in their giant laboratory and office facility, rationing the food off as they saw fit. They did little to support the community after getting it started 6 months ago.

In Paragon's mind these folks were ungrateful. These usurpers were all living under the umbrella of safety Paragon provided. Paragon made it possible to survive in the post-Apocalyptic Dawn wasteland comfortably, and none of these peasants appreciated their efforts. Everyone must do their part. Loyalty to industry brings stability to society.



The other uprising was a much more unexpected scenario....

In the wake of the apocalypse, Paragon refocused the efforts of their entire organization in launching their long hidden project – a militarized cyborg police force known as Meganet. And now the Meganet cybernetic system had gone online – without Paragon initiating the launch sequence. The cyborgs had gained a sentience of their own, and started lashing out violently against humanity. What were the odds, two rebellions in one night! An uprising of angry citizens and the awakening of the cybernetic sentience, nearly one year after the Apocalyptic Dawn, all the while the planet Scythe still plagued by the undead....the planets were not aligning for Paragon.



Camp Terror was, indeed a farce. It was a ploy to get citizens doing the bulk of the work to keep the Paragon research facility powered up, all so Paragon could finalize and launch the Meganet project. Paragon had started to the form a safe-zone just 6 months after the Apocalyptic Dawn. Their location was around the perimeter of their biggest research facility, located in Donovan City. This laboratory housed the bulk of their cybernetic technology, 70% of their chemical and biological weapons cache, and even the technology to travel space – all projects they kept hidden from the Scythian government and public. Which is exactly why they chose to start the safe-zone there. Now they could hide in plain sight, inviting survivors to help them retake Donovan City and develop it into a livable safe-zone, which in turn enabled them to continue research in a powered laboratory unimpeded by the Impaled. To Paragon it was a win-win situation – safety for labor. And having the citizens do the bulk of the work allowed them to procure the necessary resources needed to launch the Meganet system without putting their own employees and scientists at risk. The citizens of the safe-zone would unknowingly fuel the rest of their research. But the greatest irony of it all was the fact Paragon had caused the Impaled apocalypse themselves – with the 8X-13 gas.

Paragon's hidden project 8X-13 was just one of many botched experiments. They had been conducting years of research to invent a substance that could greatly extend the human lifespan. Many tests were run, and they all failed in their own ways. 8X-01, for example, caused the test subjects to vomit out their organs violently within a half hour of ingestion. 8X-02 caused the test subjects to bleed profusely out of their eyes, ears, and noses. 8X-03 caused almost immediate heart failure. Each new iteration of the project bore horrible consequences.



8X-13 was arguably the most dangerous gas of the bunch. 8X-13 caused the death of the test subject, followed later by reanimation. When reanimated, these mobile corpses were driven by pure motorized instinct to consume the flesh of the living. These creatures would pass their sickness on to anyone they scratched or bit. All 8X-13 test subjects were gunned down and burned, their ashes scattered to the wind. Yet Paragon were undeterred by all these heinous results, and continued making more and more chemicals unimpeded.


With each botched serum, Paragon would make shipments of the dangerous chemicals to their warehouse facility on the outskirts of Specter City. 8X-13 was the final shipment to Paragon's Specter City warehouse and was the cause of the apocalypse. Members of the extremist group Euphoric Damnation broke into the laboratory the day of the 8X-13 shipment, inadvertently releasing the gas whilst attacking the facility. 8X-13 quickly spread throughout Specter City, and within a week the undead outnumbered the humans 100 to 1. At the peak of the 8X-13 apocalypse, the Apocalyptic Dawn, the undead numbered 10,000 to every 1 human. 



Now, a year later, the walls of Donovan City, the infamous “Camp Terror,” had been breached. Swarms of the Impaled had begun to pour into the safe-zone, ironically returning to the birthplace of 8X-13, the very substance that allowed the existence of these vile creatures. The Impaled clawed at the fences surrounding the Paragon facility. Amidst the chaos, the remaining scientists and faculty of these facilities scrambled about, filling their convoy trucks with as much weaponry, resources, and research as possible. While the organization sustained hundreds of casualties, the majority were able to file into their trucks and crash through the fences just as the Meganet cyborgs emerged to attack. And now as the Impaled poured through the fences of, the human and cyborg rebels alike rained bullets throughout Donovan City. Paragon had been forced to donate their most important facility on the entire planet to the monsters they created....the cyborgs, the Impaled, and the impoverished.



Chapter 2: Over the Desert Plains of Zu-Rakeen



Decades before the apocalypse, the deserts of Zu-Rakeen were already a chaotic wasteland. Criminals, murderers, drug dealers...all the scum of society were banished to the desert to fend for themselves. The giant Wall of Rot blocked the deserts of Zu-Rakeen off from the free lands of Scythe. Paragon were also rumored to have been sending political dissenters into the deserts – anyone who publicly questioned the power and influence of the corporate giant seemed to disappear mysteriously. All conspiracy theorists who spread the rumor of the corporation puppeteering the Scythian government seemed to conveniently vanish.



The Paragon convoy was headed for the Wall of Rot, to travel into the deserts of Zu-Rakeen and escape the wrath of the Meganet Cyborgs and Camp Terror rebels. Many enemies of Paragon lurked in the deserts, criminals and innocents alike THEY had banished into the wasteland. Cannibal tribes roamed the sands, all the murderers and thieves and criminals now forced to feast on the flesh of the innocents. The convoy was well armed and prepared for conflict, knowing fell well they would likely be assaulted by enemies with personal vendettas. 


The convoy drove three days upon the one paved road of the desert – the Neon Highway that led to Death Canyon. Beyond the Canyon lied ports that would take Paragon to their one remaining outpost – the facilities and living stations located on the Islands of Dar-Keen. But before they could reach the Island of Dar-Keen, they would have to brave the most dangerous stretch of road on all of Scythe – the infamous Blood Run.




Chapter 3: Blood Run



The Blood Run was the final 15 mile stretch of the Neon Highway before it descended into the underground tunnel system that would lead to the ports of Dar-Keen. Despite the dangers of the desert and the dark history of the Blood Run, it was the most common trade route on the entire planet. Paragon used it frequently in times of both peace and war. They generally spent weeks planning these convoys to limit casualties and conflict. This time, however, there were no plans in place to ensure safe passage through the Deserts of Zu-Rakeen. There was no strategy to make it through the Blood Run whole. And they had the bulk of their biological and chemical weaponry loaded in these trucks. One truck even carried all 8X-14 through 8X-17....



Gunners atop the trucks stood poised, alert, and anxious. Any signs of life they would disintegrate with the plasma cannons and machine gun turrets. The cannibal tribes would need powerful weaponry and a brilliant strategy to successfully overtake the well-armed and heavily guarded convoy. Despite the odds being stacked, the crazy bastards would attack regardless of their weaponry disadvantage.

The convoy finally reached the foot of the canyon, the craggy peaks and rocks towered ahead, casting menacing shadows across the desert plains. Surprisingly they had dealt with no conflict in the three days it took to traverse the desert. The air still stood thick with electric tension. Not a single Paragon member spoke a word, the only sounds being the rumbling of engines, the humming of the Neon Highway, and the sounds of scant wildlife scattered throughout the desert.



The vehicles continued to barrel onwards as they entered Blood Run, picking up speed rather than slowing down. The sun set above in a vibrant display, the sky red as if with the blood of the countless deaths at Camp Terror. Or perhaps it was a premonition of things to come on the Blood Run....

A mile in, still no signs of danger. A few of the truck gunners saw it immediately though - a flare gun. The Cannibals began to pour in from the sides of the canyon on motorcycles and ATVs brandishing all the weapons they had managed to steal from other convoys in the past. Up ahead, the bulk of the Cannibals vehicles lied in wait. The chase had begun....




Chapter 4: The Chase Begins



The convoy barreled forwards, never hastening in speed. The cannibal's stolen trucks and cars up ahead all peeled out in unison. Bullets and plasma beams dotted the evening sky. The first two vehicles collided, neither the cannibal nor Paragon official attempting to avoid it. The explosion rocked the canyon. Shrapnel rained down, raining from the sky. One shard of metal found itself buried deep with the neck of a cannibal on a motorcycle. Another cut the arm off of an unlucky gunner.

Despite the size of the ambush, the Paragon convoy managed to break through the road block with ease, only two of their trucks being taken down in the process. The final 14 miles would now be a deadly chase. The Cannibals were picking up speed, many of the motorcycle, dirt bike, and ATV riders catching up to the last car. One of the cannibals chucked a spear at the gunner on the final truck of the convoy, and nailed a lucky shot. The gunner toppled over the side of the truck.

The cannibals on bikes and ATVs managed to surround the last track of the convoy. The gunner in the truck just ahead picked two of them off with well-aimed shots, but was quickly neutralized with a bullet to the skull. The cannibals trucks and cars were now catching up as well. After a well timed jump, a cannibal managed to smash his fist through the Paragon trucks window. His hand quickly found the driver, ripping the drivers throat out. The cannibal pulled the body through the window and dropped it to the gravel below, the corpse immediately rolling and twisting in sick ways. Seconds later a cannibal on a bike lands a bullet in the passenger of the trucks skull, and the cannibal atop the truck jumps in and takes control of the truck, swerving off to the side but coming out clean.



Now that the cannibals had grabbed a fresh Paragon truck, they had considerable more fire power. Another cannibal managed to jump aboard and man the plasma laser, and began firing rounds into the trucks ahead. The cannibal's goal is to steal these trucks and consume the flesh of those inside, not to destroy them. For this reason they take out the tires of the trucks, and manage to get three more in their possession.



The chase has spilled out of the canyon, onto the final mile and a half stretch before the Neon Highway descends into the tunnel system. The cannibals manage to take out the tires of one last truck, their fifth victory of the day, just before the convoy dips into the tunnel and the metallic gate slams shut behind them. A few of the cannibal's vehicles smash into the gate, the vehicles exploding in fireballs. Casualties were to be expected, and it only means more food.



5 trucks with loaded plasma turrets, with several human casualties to feast on...this was a decent victory for the cannibal army. But little did they know just how much weaponry and chemicals each of these trucks housed...



Chapter 5: Mutant Devolution



The cannibals never looked inside the trucks, instead they drove them immediately back through the 15 miles of the Blood Run, picking up  all salvageable corpses along the way. They were headed for the Rotting Keep, their base of operations. Their leader, simply known as Slasher, would decide what is to be done with the goods and provisions found within the trucks.



The giant makeshift gates opened to the Rotting Keep, and in poured the 5 stolen trucks. Slasher was already waiting by the gate. Speaking quickly with the commanding cannibal of the assault team, Slasher gives the order for the assualt team to take the haul to the cargo hold – each would get first pick on the new gear for procuring the goods. Unfortunately for the assault team, the very first truck they inspected happened to house 8X-14 – 8X-17...

Upon opening the trucks and seeing the barrels and canisters, the cannibals made the deadly mistake of thinking they contained Entity. In the deserts of Zu-Rakeen, the drug was a luxury – very rare and even more coveted than alcohol. They struck a deal immediately to take the Entity as their haul, and distribute it to the community without letting Slasher in on it. 



To celebrate their new business venture, the assault team immediately cracked open one of the barrels. They'd catch a quick high, then cart all the Entity back to their living quarters within the keep, hide it and secure it well, make sure it was under guarded watch at all times....only this wasn't Entity. The liquid inside had a sickly greenish hue, much darker than the drug. But the cannibals mistook this as a sign of greater potency, and immediately filled up several shot glasses to kick off their high.


What they had really opened was a batch of 8X-17. Within a minute of drinking the 8X-17, the first round of cannibals were vomiting violently. In yet another lapse of all remaining cannibals who hadn't ingested the 8X-17 immediately became even more curious, desperate to get high. Only two of the cannibals refrained from indulging, backing away from the group and questioning the decision to hastily ingest this substance. 



At the 3 minute mark, the first set of unwitting test subjects began to scream in agony. They fell to the floor, some curling up into the fetal position and others writhing about in their own vomit. They clasped at their faces and thrashed about. The two cannibals to refrain from trying the substance started to back away, heading slowly towards the alarm button at the back of the room.

Then with a sickening tearing sound, one of the cannibals chest ripped in half, a new fleshy appendage bursting through. His face twisted counter clockwise, the skin stretched in a sickly fashion, then started to melt. The other cannibals started reacting in similar fashion, all sorts of sickly mutations ravaging their bodies. The two cannibals at the back of the cargo hold quickly hit the alarm button and sprinted out of the room.



Chapter 6: Sieging the Wall of Rot



The 8X-17 had mutated the cannibals into sickly, grotesque monsters. Complete abominations. They lived in a state of constant agony, still semi-conscious but driven by the instinct to dull their pain by lashing out violently. Their horrific screams and wails were nearly constant, and sounded anything but human. The surviving cannibals rushed about the Rotting Keep, gathering as much supplies as they could. Their plan was to escape the Rotting Keep and the wrath of the mutants.



Slasher had decided it was time to scale the Wall of Rot, to attack Paragon and bring the organization down. They would feast on the flesh of the Paragon scientists, make them pay for their misdeeds and twisted scientific experiments, then roam the countryside – plenty of food for the lot of them. They could take back the cities from the Impaled, forge a new Rotting Keep in Donovan or Specter City.

The cannibals that escaped did not have time on their side, however. The mutated victims of 8X-17 began pouring out of the Rotting Keep, chasing the Cannibals as they headed towards the Wall of Rot. Slasher lead his convoy towards a tower that had been out of commission since the Apocalyptic Dawn. This would be the best place to scale the Wall of Rot – less resistance from Scythian guards.



The cannibals arrived at the wall and began preparing their equipment for the climb. They only had enough equipment to send a half dozen cannibals at a time, and the climb was a lengthy process. The cannibals had been malnourished and underfed since the start of the apocalypse. Even animals were scarce these days. It would take all of them some time to scale the giant fortification.

All the while, the mutants remained in hot pursuit. They were faster than the Impaled- they could sprint at decent speeds. But the day and a half drive to arrive at the Wall of Rot had put some distance between them and the cannibals. The mutants emerged on the skyline just as the first round of cannibals started climbing the wall.



Little by little, more cannibals reached the top of the Wall of Rot. Many began to take up sniping positions, picking off the distant mutants. Some of the mutants had begun to breach the line, quickly downed by the cannibals stolen weaponry, but so many more were approaching. Mutated animal life had begun to emerge as well...mutated wildcats, wolves, coyotes and more begun attacking the cannibals.

With the consistent wave of mutants bearing down on them, Slasher finally decided the only way to minimize casualties would be to blow up a section of the wall. The cannibals had found explosives within one of the trucks they had stolen. After the explosions were set, the four vehicles took off in opposite directions as pairs, driving along the side of the Wall. When they were each a mile out, Slasher detonated the explosives. The Wall of Rot had finally been breached. Perhaps the mutants were nothing more than a necessary agent to facilitate the cannibals return to the free lands of Scythe....



Chapter 7: Legacy



Just one year after the Apocalyptic Dawn, and Scythe was in even worse conditions. The Impaled set into motion a seemingly never-ending cycle of chaos and cataclysm. No problems were solved, and more seemed to arise every day. The innocents suffered and evil prevailed.



The Meganet Cyborgs gaining sentience and lashing out at humans, driving Paragon from their home base and the nomadic Frozen Soldiers out of their home in the North.


The mutant devolution of various creatures, both man and beast, ravaging the deserts of Zu-Rakeen.


The cannibals conquering the Wall of Rot, now once again roaming the free lands of Scythe they were banished from to feast on the flesh of the innocents. 
A war between the Wasterider gang and Euphoric Damnation extremist group.
Deadly chemicals exposed into the world – 8X-17 mutants, 8X-13 undead, and a weaponized form of Entity.


The armies of the Lone Musician and Maverick consolidating into one, the only formidable force of justice left on the planet.


But the one thing all of these groups had in common...was a hatred for Paragon. And it was more than deserved, as this Legacy of chaos and destruction throughout the planet...was all caused by Paragon.




Rock the full Mutation Devolution experience on Jon Of The Shred's Bandcamp here and be sure to check out all the other scintillating Scythe chapters right here on Synthetix.FM!





Thursday, October 30, 2014

Scythe - Entity: Harvest of Insanity

by Jon of the Shred


Chapter I: Alpha Centauri Sector



Camp Terror is burning, the casualties number well in the hundreds. Bodies litter the alleyways and smoke billows angrily towards the night sky. Gunfire and screams of the dying echo throughout the safe-zone, bouncing off the skyscrapers, barely audible over the growing moans of the hungry Impaled closing in on their prey. The bullets of the Meganet cyborgs rip through Paragon security members, who lie dying as the undead close in and relish in their easy meals. Innocents, rebels, and Paragon officials alike all lie dead.

The survivors of the rebel movement, dumbfounded by the chaos they helped unleashed, have gathered just outside the city walls. While they have have freed themselves from the dystopian reign of Paragon, many lives were lost in their uprising. They had not envisioned Meganet gaining sentience on the same night as their rebellion, or ever for that matter. This was a contingency unaccounted for. Now regrouped, they plan their next move outside the walls of Camp Terror, listening to the symphony of carnage they helped compose as it plays out from within.

“We've made it out alive, but we cannot forget those who have fallen!” The leader of the resistance, Maverick, is both congratulating and consoling his troops. They've fought a tough battle the last few hours, and they had lost many of their team in the raining gunfire. Another unaccounted contingency is about to beset this group of weary rebels...

“Freeze! Drop your weapons!” Through the veil of darkness and amidst the noisy confusion, a large group of unknown people has sneaked up the hill to the city walls, now surrounding the rebels, their weapons raised. “We don't want any trouble here! Who are you?!” The Lone Musician stands at the forefront of the group, surveying the scene, battle weary and hoping they don't need to end more lives after the last few months of torturous trials. Maverick steps to the edge of his group, meeting the Lone Musician.

“I am Maverick and this is my company. If you're Paragon scum you might as well riddle us with bullets now, we'd rather die than sacrifice our freedom.” The Lone Musician looks back to his army, and gives them the motion to lower their weapons. “If Paragon is your enemy, that makes us allies. Paragon murdered some friends of ours.” The Lone Musician and Maverick shake hands, to the relief of both of the tired armies. “What the fuck is going on in there, Maverick?” The Lone Musician looks up to the city walls, the sounds of warfare still slicing through the night air.

“We've been stuck in that hellhole since the Apocalyptic Dawn. Camp Terror was one of the first major safe-zones available during the panic. Paragon rounded everyone up and put them in the camps, this being the biggest one in all of Scythe. But their methods of control have proven cruel and self-serving. They've got people from as far as Specter City holed up in there. At first it was fine, we worked together to survive, kept the Impaled off the fences, foraged for food in abandoned towns nearby. But then it all changed. Paragon began to show it's true colors – they forced us to do all the heavy lifting, to collect substances for their research and experiments. They just sat in their labs, their cyborg security force murdering anyone who questioned their will. We were starving, tired, and oppressed...it was time for a change.”

“You still have good people in there? Sounds like the fight is still going.” The Lone Musician notes the continued sounds of gunfire and screams. “That's where shit gets crazy. The cyborg security seemed to gain a mind of its own. They turned against Paragon and started wiping them out – they were gunning for us, too. It's a wonder so many of my team made it out alive. Now we're just trying to figure out our next move.” The Lone Musician nods, and gives Maverick a little background.

“My company were all being held hostage by the Nekro Cult. Sick fucks worship the Impaled, they think they're some kind of cleansing entity sent by the Gods. They had us in chains at the old Scythian Arena. I managed to free these people...the sick bastards were going to feed them to the undead.” Maverick nodded and responded, “You freed ALL of these people? Good job, man.” “I couldn't just leave them there. We were headed to this very safe-zone, rumors had been circulating through the prison that it was one of the last vestiges of safety. Before we were able to get here Paragon ambushed one of our search companies, murdered them in cold blood. We heard it through our walkies. We came here to carry out vengeance, but it looks like you guys already started it for us.” Maverick nodded. “I think our best bet is to join our two companies, but we're at a loss on where to go.” The Lone Musician responded “I agree, we can wipe the Paragon and Nekro cult scum off the face of Scythe with our forces combined. We're headed to the Alpha Centauri Sector.” The armies of Maverick and the Lone Musician now became one entity, a giant force of justice on a planet on the brink of destruction.



Chapter  II: Entity



Deep within the Forest of the Impaled lies the Alpha Centauri Sector, a swamp many people considered cursed decades before the great Apocalyptic Dawn. Through the forest, strange plants emit an eerie, mist. This mist carries hallucinogenic properties. When inhaled, this psychoactive substance causes horrible and debilitating effects. While a small amount inhaled leads to a pleasurable, highly addictive euphoria, even the slightest misstep in dosage leads to violent overdoses. An Entity overdose has the capability of driving the user to immediate insanity, and even on the first come down off an Entity high, the user suffers viscous, potentially deadly withdrawals.

For this reason, the Forest of the Impaled was blocked off to the citizens of Scythe by the Scythian government and Paragon officials. Before the apocalypse, Paragon rangers sanctioned by the Scythian government patrolled the forests in hazmat gear to ensure no one smuggled the dangerous Entity drug outside of the forests borders. Rumors around the planet suggested trespassers within the forest were even shot on site. Other rumors claimed various, small societies existed throughout the forest, inhabited by those addicted to Entity. Their entire lives revolved around the consumption of the drug, their minds completely lost in the hallucinations – an addictive trip that never ends. Some of these rumors were true...



Chapter III: Euphoric Damnation




Euphoric Damnation had huge plans before the apocalypse. They planned to infiltrate Scythian military bases, government complexes, and Paragon laboratories alike and bring the entire countries political infrastructure to it's knees. They would re-raise society in a state of symbiotic anarchy. While their intentions were arguably just, the means with which they were willing to go to exact these goals were both immoral and dangerous. The amount of innocents who would die in the backlash of utilizing Entity as a biological weapon would number in the thousands, maybe even millions. Euphoric Damnation saw these potential casualties as necessary sacrifices – they would be unknowing martyrs for the Euphoric Damnation's cause.

Members of Euphoric Damnation were of the belief a conspiracy existed on Scythe. Paragon seemed to hold all the power, and the Scythian government seemed like the puppets of the corporate giant. Many members of the extremist group were, in fact, former Paragon workers themselves. They had their suspicions when employed by the corporation, and gladly joined the Euphoric Damnation cause. Some had narrowly escaped being banished into the Deserts of Zu-Rakeen for political dissent, but escaped into the Forest of the Impaled before being deported. All good intentions of these political dissenters were lost as they stumbled through the forest in their drug induced hazes. Entity in such constant doses warped their minds and fried their brains. Though their intent was once noble, their moral foundation crumbled, and they were but shells of their former selves.

Members of Euphoric Damnation were forced to wear modified hazmat suits stolen from the corpses of Paragon forest rangers at all times which served them a steady dosage of Entity. Breathing in the fumes of the forest would be too severe, they'd surely lose their minds. But they still necessitated a constant dose at increments throughout each day, otherwise the withdrawal symptoms would likely kill them. And so they lived in a state of Euphoric Damnation, giving their name an ironic twist.



Chapter IV: Harvest of Insanity



Right on the outskirts of the Alpha Centauri Sector marshes stands Euphoric Damnation's giant industrial complex. Further out, still, lie many huts and makeshift houses, all of which were occupied by the harvesters of insanity. Euphoric Damnation had learned the concentration of the Entity compound found throughout the forest was concentrated in the swamp. It was hear in the bog they took to the Harvest of Insanity.

Giant hydraulic pumps pumped the bog marshes. Later this swamp matter was strained many times over, eventually through the process of chemistry and technology stolen from Paragon laboratories, distilled into a pure, liquid form of Entity. A single drop of this would shatter the users consciousness, rendering them stuck on a permanent trip. The industrial complex manufactured hundreds of pounds of the drug on the daily. Even just 1% of the synthesized product available could drive the entire population of Specter City into violent overdoses.

Throughout the bogs and surrounding forest on this night, new sets of eyes watched the facility. From nearly every direction, members of a viscous gang, the Wasteriders, were sneaking through the foliage and marshes, closing in on the Euphoric Damnation base of operations. Their plans were to steal as much of the drug as they could handle, wiping out any Euphoric Damnation members that stood in their way. This heist had been a long time in the making.
While Euphoric Damnation were tormented with a perpetual trip, driven to insanity being so close to the marsh that produced the substance, the Wasteriders were still very much lucid. They differed from Euphoric Damnation in that they only wished to profit off the drug and use it recreationally. They had no plans other than to get high and get rich. And tonight they'd steal enough of the Entity drug to be high for the rest of their lives...



Chapter V: Disintegrate




 The casual users of Entity described the trip as “disintegrating” or “dissolving.” Every nerve in the body reeled in euphoric ecstasy from the substance. Trails followed any slight movement, and the world took on a glitched out, blurred, digital look as the pupils of the users became heavily dilated. Colors were brightened and intensified, sounds took on a new density, users would feel an increase in their creative thinking. Hallucinations only intensified with a higher dose, many claiming to see and talk to godlike entities. While many used the drug for the high, many also sought out its use for spiritual purposes.

The onset of an overdose would lead to panicked thinking, nausea, uncontrollable vomiting and shaking, seizures, and more. Some users would get caught into a loop, reliving the same moment millions of times in the space of a second. When they awoke from their drug daze, many found themselves covered in other people's blood, having been driven to violence through the drug. Communication for many became scrambled, the users ranting and raving incoherently, their psychotic babbling being both slightly humorous and rather frightening.

Some Entity users would gain an unprecedented increase in appetite and eat until their stomachs burst, while others would lose their appetite entirely, sometimes permanently, dying of starvation as they withdrew from the drug. Some users would sleep off the drug for days after a Entity high, while others would suffer weeks of insomnia afterwards. Needless to say, the negative effects of 'disintegration' far outweighed the pleasurable euphoria enjoyed at miniscule doses, especially considering how unpredictable the effects of disintegrating were.

Many folks were even driven to violent insanity on the smallest doses, as the substance is very unpredictable and very potent. While Entity could only be found in it's pure form within the Forest of the Impaled, a street drug did exist in the pre-apocalypse days. This drug was used by youths and gang members alike. Some even said the cannibals in the Zu-Rakeen desert had shipments sent out to them, but how this cargo was able to make it past the great Wall of Rot was anyone's guess.



Chapter VI: The Centaurian Heist



 The Wasteriders were closing in, all around the manufacturing facility. Throughout the hut village, sleeping members of Euphoric Damnation were murdered in their sleep. Many throats were slit, and much blood was spilled. The Wasteriders had managed to wipe out the entire community as it slept, and now crept along towards the factory, their blood lust peaking as they began to pull out grappling hooks.

First one grappling hook sank into the roof of the building, than two more, and dozens more after that. The Wasteriders began to scale the building on all sides. Nearly 200 of them now stood on the roof, poised and ready to make an unforgettable heist. Small explosions were set on one side of the roof, and detonated. The explosion rocked the facility, dozens of Euphoric Damnation members perplexed at the noise. Piercing alarms rang through the corridors, and Euphoric Damnation members quickly grabbed their assault rifles and plasma cannons.

Who was attacking them? Was it the Nekro cult, the sick bastards who idolized the Impaled? Was it the Scythian government, finally cracking down on their activist movement? Or was it the Paragon security force, the Meganet cyborgs? Regardless of who it was, they would soon be riddled with bullets.

A large company of the Wasteriders rappelled into the building through the hole, quickly drawing their weapons and moving with synchronicity and purpose. The first batch of Euphoric Damnation soldiers to arrive on the scene were immediately downed on bullets. Three lines of Wasteriders took turns shooting and reloading their weapons, an effective method. But Euphoric Damnation had methods of their own...

The first row in the Wasteriders line stepped through a doorway, only to hear the clang of metal behind them as the doors came to a close. As they sprinted forward to escape the corridor, the other set of doors on the far side of the hallway clanged shut as well. The hissing of gas clued them in on what was going on, as Entity was pumped through the vents in highly dangerous doses. They were quickly driven to insanity, some murdering each other and others vomiting torrents of blood. They were all dead within minutes.

The doors whirred back open, and the two other rows of Wasteriders surveyed the scene. The bodies of their comrades littered the room. Enraged, one member takes out a plasma grenade and throws it to the far side of the room. It explodes, shattering the metallic doors on the far side of the hall. They rushed through the corridor holding their breaths as more Wasteriders poured in through the roof.

In the manufacturing facility, Euphoric Damnation members scrambled about, some taking position in front of the Entity trays, others piling finished product onto carts, driving away in a frenzy to protect their livelihood. Explosions and gunfire echoed throughout the corridor, the sounds of battle escalating and growing louder every minute. And then the climax of the battle struck, as the majority of the Wasteriders poured into the manufacturing room. Bullets sprayed from either directions. Machines leaked fuel, sparks erupted from all over, gunfire rained on steel and flesh. The casualties on both sides continued to grow as the Centaurian Heist reached it's bloody peak.

Wasteriders grabbed trolleys loaded with the product, rushing towards the door. A few were gunned down by Euphoric Damnation members. The Wasteriders returned fire, bullets riddling the suits of the Euphoric Damnation members, Entity mist pouring out from the punctures to their suits. Neither Euphoric Damnation or the Wasteriders enjoyed victory on this day – they both suffered defeat. And the battle seemed to just be starting. While some Wasteriders escaped with pounds of the substance, many more lied dead in the facility. And while Euphoric Damnation managed to hold off the siege and maintain control of the factory, they too suffered heavy casualties. Their enterprise was set back years in just the first hour of fighting.

EPILOGUE

Just outside the facility, at the edge of the forest stands Maverick and the Lone Musician, faces covered with gas masks, watching the violent foray unfold below them. “What the fuck is this place?” Maverick asked. “I think I have an idea. A few months ago I had to run through this damned forest after escaping Specter City. As I ran through it I suffered from hallucinations. They were driving me mad. That's why I brought all these gas masks for us to wear. This swamp seems to be the source of that hallucinogenic mist that had me going crazy. If I had to guess, looks like this is a drug manufacturing plant that we've stumbled upon.” Maverick nodded. “Maybe we should head back to the edge of the forest. There's no need for us to join the party down there. Let the junkies fight it out and kill each other.” The Lone Musician agreed. “Yea, let's get the fuck outta here.” The two retreated back from the edge of the swamp and headed back towards their army to plan their next move, the deafening sounds of warfare and carnage fading as they sprinted away from the swamp.


Pick up a copy of this totally rockin chapter of the Scythe chronicles featuring Jon Of The Shred collaborating with Beatbox Machinery, Quantum, KFDDA, Hide & Sequence, Leonardo Rizzo and Cluster Buster on Bandcamp here.


Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Scythe: End Of Days

by Jean-Pierre Van Damme and Jon of the Shred





PROLOGUE

This is the story of the thriving planet Lleh and it's inhabitants, and how the society they've built is brought to an untimely and decisive end. This...is the beginning of the End of Days.
The Daymon Corporation is dimly lit, fluorescent bulbs flickering in a frenzied fashion, giving the room a foreboding and unsettling feel. It almost seems too fitting, the spastic lights making Dr. Carpenter seem all the more menacing as he screams, “I DON’T CARE!  KEEP THAT PORTAL OPEN!”
“Sir, there ar-“
“We’ve come too far for your petty concerns!”  The doctor draws a Colt 1911 from the inside of his jacket, and presses it firmly against the temple of the engineer manning the control station.  Beads of sweat form around the barrel and fall along Mastersons cheek; his breathing has become shallow and quick, taxed by his growing dread. He responds to the doctor slowly and deliberately.

“Yes sir.  I understand.”  He turns his eyes to the doctor without turning his head, remaining motionless.  Surrounded by busy soldiers and workers, Carpenter and Masterson look like still life in contrast, the tension forcing them both to remain stationary. Masterson's next words are feeble, drowned out by the hydraulics and grinding machinery feeding power to the top secret weapon known as Project Leviathan.  “However, something is wrong.”
“Speak up, you fool!”  The doctor presses the gun harder into the engineer’s temple and cocks the hammer back with his thumb.  The engineer flinches.  “Dammit Masterson, SPEAK!!”

“We are seeing an increase in matter, Dr! NOT A DECREASE!”  His words carry over the background, loud enough for the crazed Doctor to hear. Masterson swallows hard, almost audibly.  His sweaty palms remain still at the controls, itching to shut the weapon down.
The doctor smiles, uncocks the pistol, and coolly lowers it from the engineer’s head.  To his left a large tear in the very fabric of space is occurring. According to the head engineer this is no scientific breakthrough, but a major problem. Masterson turns his head to reveal a look of grave concern to the doctor. When he sees his smile, his face flushes white.  Realizing what is about to occur he panics and reaches for the controls, but he is not quick enough to avoid the .45 caliber round that bursts through his neck, or the second one that shreds through his face like a knife through melted butter. Blood and brain matter splatter on the ground as all life is drained out of Masterson.  Dr Carpenter kicks Masterson’s body and the chair rolls, carrying the slumped corpse away from the control panel.  The doctor feverishly resets a few switches and dials a few knobs to increase the unimaginable power being directed to Project Leviathan.

The ground begins to rumble menacingly, as if a great Earthquake is tearing the Lleh soil beneath the Daymon laboratory. While this type of phenomena was typical during earlier tests, this time is different – the rumbling is continuous. Everyone in the facility can tell something isn’t quite right – something is very off here. The tension in the air is so thick it could be sliced asunder with a machete. The Daymon foot soldiers and engineers all stop moving, and the group fix their collective gaze on the portal opening in the air in the middle of the dimly lit room. It’s much bigger than the test portals, and while no one speaks of it verbally, their facial expressions all seem to indicate the shared concern at the madness unfolding before their very eyes.

Dr. Carpenter seems to be expecting something no one else knows about; his eyes are wide, and his stance stone still. In a matter of seconds all of time seems to slow to a near halt; sound fades away and everyone ears pop with the sensation of going temporarily deaf. Their hearts beat slowly, and their blood feels cold.  An icy smoke rolls from the hole in the air, and nightmarish roars cry out from the other side.

Some time earlier...


The year is 2029 A.D. The city of Macropolis, a once thriving metropolis, is now burdened with excessive overpopulation. Despite the many skyscrapers dominating the skyline there is simply no longer enough space to comfortably house everyone.
The streets lying in the shadows of the giant skyscrapers are teeming with criminals. Rivaling gangs, drug dealers, and a fascist police force ensure violence and death is a daily business. These issues  run rampant in more than just the once thriving city of Macropolis; the entire planet  is suffering. A lack of jobs, food and resources either cripples the citizens with fear, or drives them to criminal activity. Political differences are not uncommon.

Acts of terrorism lead to acts of reprisal...
Acts of reprisal lead to more acts of terror...
A perpetual circle of violence.
Everything working in tandem to keep the gears of war well oiled.


The wealthy arms manufacturers and merchants, as well as corporate giant Paragon seem to be the only ones to benefit. Billions of dollars in resources are poured weekly into research focusing solely on weapon technology. And billions more dollars in resources are poured weekly into an effort to increase the national surveillance network in scale and efficiency.

“The Transparent Citizen” is a new act the government has put into play. The fascist government has introduced this new act into the political lexicon in an attempt to reduce the swelling crime rates. “The Transparent Citizen” has literally no support from anyone other than those in the government itself – power hungry politicians and disaster capitalists relish at the thought of dictating the every move of all the citizens they were elected to serve. Some of the policies “The Transparent Citizen Act” entails include all purchases and transactions requiring a fingerprint to complete, with every single transaction being carefully analyzed and filed. Other policies include car start ups requiring government authorization, surveillance literally everywhere, and curfews, the ignorance of which could lead to the death penalty.

But the government itself isn't the only thing polluting the world of Lleh. Fumes are clouding the sky and darkening the streets. Not a single man, woman, or child has caught even the slightest glimpse of a blue sky, nor inhaled a breath of fresh air in decades. Lleh is on the brink of societal collapse – and the slightest push could cause it all to come crumbling down...


DAYMON CORPORATION



The Daymon Corporation was founded in 2015 right before the conflict with Jakith brought the planet of Lleh to a dangerous economical and societal standstill. Initially the firm started with projects for private security concerns, mainly non-deadly weapons and non-intrusive surveillance upgrades. Only a few months later they started receiving orders from local arms dealer and collectors for the development of new weapons. 

The Daymon Corporation was set up quickly, founded by the ambitious Dr. Carpenter. The company was quickly placed at the head as the leading supplier for Lleh's Global Military, disaster capitalists posing as peace keepers. The quality and the visions from the founder of the company were groundbreaking, but his intent and methods were oftentimes questioned by his peers.

In 2019 the firm was greatly expanded, funding pouring in to supplement the corporation as it started its ambitious “Construction Project.“ The Construction Project was centered in Macropolis, and was sponsored and partially funded by Lleh's Global Military. This project was devised with the intent to supplement and enforce the changes brought about in the “Transparent Citizen Act.“

The most successful inventions developed under this act were all authorized by military adviser General Hicks. General Hicks was an adviser sent in by the Lleh Global Military Force, mostly to ensure efficiency and keep an eye on the mentally unstable Dr Carpenter.

The Construction Project was a rather unfitting title, considering at least half of the research conducted was done so to develop new weapon-based technology. The most successful of these inventions included a variety of EMP Grenades and other bombs, many of which were created with the intent of disabling the communications systems of the enemies of Macropolis. Exoskeleton armor and bionic prosthetic were also created. These technologies not only afforded soldiers greater stamina reserves, but also reconstructive technologies, bringing gravely wounded soldiers out of retirement, physically fit yet again to resume their indentured servitude to the Lleh Global Military service.

Other technological advancements included remote controlled Spider-Drones. These Spider-Drones would act like assassins, strategically positioning themselves and self-destructing to destroy critical enemy fortifications such as ammo dumps, factories, and military bases. Another such development was the free tractable Cutterhead-Bombs, tactical explosives used to destroy bridges and important access roads, effectively stranding the enemy and making transportation far more difficult and treacherous.

GENERAL HICKS



Far above the rooftops of the city General Hicks is standing in a cube of glass, watching from a distance.

“Foolish people,” he mutters while taking a deep drag on his cigar. His remaining steel blue eye now focuses on the wisps of smoke as it rises towards the transparent ceiling. He had lost the other eye in the war against the nation of Jakith in 2020.

Despite the technological advances in medicine, he refused the artificial implants and cybernetic enhancements he was offered. Every single day his loss shall be a reminder – every time he looks into the mirror or catches his reflection in a pool of water, the dead eye would remind him - “Be quick. Always get the drop on your opponent. No mercy.”


Fortunately, General Hick's sacrifice did not go unnoticed – he was revered by the Lleh military, a decorated war hero amongst military personnel and Macropolis civilians alike. The government even placed him as second in command of the national defense of Macropolis.

Cynical and bitter he now stands above the cancerous Macropolis, supervising the development of a new weapons prototype to ensure the safety of the very Lleh citizens he loathes. If there is even the slightest grain of truth to be found in the reports and stories of the maniacal Dr. Carpenter, than this weapon he is developing, Project Leviathan, grants godlike powers, capable of eradicating any of the Macropolis's enemies in the blink of an eye.

Those thoughts, those visions of obliterated states and cities in ruin are haunting him...and yet they simultaneously seem to please him and satiate the voices of demons in his head that have only been getting louder since the great war with Jakith in 2020...


DR CARPENTER




Dr. Carpenter is a genius...and a mad man. He obsesses ceaselessly over dark matter, and is widely known throughout Lleh as a fanatic with dangerous visions.  His current obsession is called Project Leviathan. Even the projects name spelled out is enough to spark a maniacal glare in his weary eyes. He pours all of his energy into Project Leviathan, working fifteen hours every day. It's to a point that Dr Carpenter is eating, showering and sleeping in his laboratory. 

Despite the obvious mental health issues plaguing him, Dr Carpenter is free to do whatever he wants with the unwavering consent of the Lleh Global Military. Dr Carpenter loves to take advantage of this. It was Dr Carpenter's profound impact on the war of 2020 that afforded him this freedom. His impact on the war rivaled even General Hicks impact.

Animal testing is a waste of time. Why should weapons designed to kill human beings be tested on animals? So many useless humans plaguing Lleh. So much filth and garbage...wastes of flesh and oxygen that no one is going to miss. Quite the opposite in fact; the benefits to society will be vast when the population is brought down to a more manageable number. After all, most of the people on Lleh are nothing but criminals and homeless vagrants.
A test chamber has been built for this sole purpose - the systematic and unbiased depopulation of Lleh. 

Carpenter is testing one of his experiments, “Meltdown“ at long last. Meltdown is a microwave transmitter transformed into a deadly weapon. Subject 13 will be the victim of this twisted experiments, heavily sedated. Subject 13 is unable to move or even speak, but can feel every single effect Meltdown is having on them. Dr. Carpenter reaches for the transmitter, a device shaped not unlike a jumbo laser pointer.

Carpenters eye twitches with excitement as he activates the weapon. The twitching intensifies as the sinister looking mechanization start to hum. Subject 13 attempts to stifle a moan and despite the sedation actually begins to thrash about violently in his seat, the chains and straps holding him down rattling. But this last surge of adrenaline is not enough to save 13.

The first visible effects of Meltdown is the subjects hair catching flame, followed seconds later by the eyebrows and eye lashes. Shortly after the skin starts to melt and bubble, the stink of burning flesh filling the room. Blood has started to leak from the ears, eyes and nostrils of Subject 13. Then the eyes start to liquify, running out of the sockets in a horrific display. As the pressure continues to rise the sickening sound of Subject 13s cranium snapping echos throughout the room, ringing loudly above the humming machinery. The scalp has ripped open, with boiling brain matter oozing out. Subject 13 lets out one last agonizing scream before slumping to the floor lifeless and twitching.

Lovingly Dr. Carpenter caresses his invention and puts it back on the workbench.

„General Hicks and his men can take care of this mess,“ he thinks to himself as he sets off to conduct more of his sick experiments.

Meltdown is child's play compared to what Carpenter is really obsessing over - his masterpiece awaits. A weapon more destructive than a thousand nuclear bombs. A man-made black hole, capable of eradicating entire cities, countries even, with a single press of a button.

Leaving no mess to take care of...rebooting Lleh to a sterile slate.


PROJECT LEVIATHAN



Project Leviathan is a weapon designed to spawn a synthetic black hole. The prototype is about the size of an anti-aircraft defense. The estimated size of the black hole this deadly device could manufacture is 5 feet - enough to absorb a whole city like Macropolis. The testing phase can only be performed with a smaller version, however, because the risk of peril is too great. It is for this reason the full power of Project Leviathan has yet to be tested. Instead, a smaller version  has been studied, roughly the size of a Missile-Launcher, creating a black hole with a diameter of 1 foot. These tests are conducted in a hermetically sealed room as a safety precaution.

While the first few tests proved accurate, the latest tests didn't go as well. The black hole is becoming more unstable with each test, disappearing in minutes. But those few minutes were indescribable. Dr Carpenter felt as though he was looking right into the face of a god, a god he created himself. The air crackles with electricity, and a steady vibration shakes the entire room. This might of this machine is beautiful to behold! To a scientist, at least.

On this day Dr. Carpenter will make history. He stands euphoric in the Daymon laboratory, waiting to start the next testing phase with fevered anticipation. The drones – Lleh military personnel and Daymon scientists, all man their assigned positions. Most feel skeptical of the doctors intentions, apprehensive to question the legitimacy of the project. They stare almost robotically at the monitors as the machine is fired up.

“Project Leviathan, Testing Phase Number 6!” Masterston states as he dials in the machinery. The black hole is stable, floating weightlessly around inside the giant lab. All those present gaze into the black nothingness, their gaze transfixed as if hypnotized. All is going well, and yet something sinister moves inside the emptiness. A small, barely visible red light flares up threateningly. It almost looks like an eye, a hellish pupil. Seconds later, metallic whispers infuse the room, and the monitors implode violently, sending burning shrapnel raining down on the Daymon staff.

The hole collapses, then grows larger over the entire room. General Hicks of all people is intimidated by this development, but Hicks is the only one aside from Dr Carpenter to hold their composure. All the soldiers and lab technicians break down and panic, some screaming, others pacing wildly at their assigned posts.

Dr. Carpenter stands transfixed as a hellish, otherworldly voice cuts across the Daymon Laboratory. ”Open the Gate.“ Dr Carpenter pushes the button and the hydraulic door mechanism sealing the test room hisses open. Dr Carpenter widens his arms like some sort of twisted prophet and walks right into the test chamber, smiling maniacally as he walks directly into the black hole vanishing into the black nothingness he spawned with his hellish invention, Project Leviathan.


SHADOW AGENTS




Paragon Genetic Technology Corporation is Daymon Corporations biggest competitor. Paragon's corporate offices and central laboratory facility is located in Flagg City. The experiments conducted within are kept very well hidden, inspiring hushed whispers echoing distrust of the corporate giant throughout Flagg City. Rumors of Paragon's dark doings spread out further to Macropolis, and some even as far as Jakith.

Despite the ill reputation, Paragon remains excessively guarded and secretive. Rumors suggest they specialized in biological and chemical weapon agents, and a good deal of their technology was used in the Jakith war, and was as big a factor in the war as Daymon Corp. Some suggested Paragon were playing Macropolis and Jakith against each other, profiteering off a war by supplying weapons to both armies like some sort of twisted country puppeteer.

Paragon's rivalry with Daymon Corp remained heated for years, climaxing during the war and never quite fizzling out. Daymon regularly spread allegations against Paragon throughout the years, claiming projects they were working on were being stolen and copied by Paragon. Paragon remained creepily silent, as it always had.

General Hicks has had suspicions for a long time Daymon Corp had been infiltrated by a spy agent sent in by Paragon. He suspected a cyborg agent had been sent in by Shadow, a mercenary firm that infiltrates organizations to steal secret documents and research findings, then sells this stolen information back to their clients at a steep price. Some even suggested that Hicks himself was the mole, but these suggestions were false – General Hicks remained loyal to the Lleh government despite his cynicism, and in all actuality distrusts the shady Paragon. General Hicks, on the other hand, was correct in his suspicions.

Agent 17-34-X had indeed existed in the Daymon Corporation for years, having risen through the ranks to quite a formidable position, managing his own lab within the giant Daymon HQ. Little did his co-workers know, A17-34-X, or the name they knew him, Xander, was actually more cybernetic than human.

Xander is a test subject of an older Paragon experiment, one of their earliest “Shadow” agents. Needless to say, the Shadow spy firm wouldn't be paying Paragon for these services...they funded the entire operation. Xander was 'upgraded' with bionic implants, equipping him with sophisticated spy technology. His right hand is wired with hacking software, and his left retina has a micro-camera attached, a live stream constantly airing both to Shadow and Paragon officials. And tonight he is tackling his biggest assignment yet...

XANDER VS HICKS

Xander has been sent to the Daymon Corporation to sabotage “Project Leviathan” and to hack the mainframe and retrieve all information and data related to the project. With his level of security clearance coupled with his bionic upgrades and years of experience working for Shadow, he is more than confident he will be able to deliver his client what they seek.

At the peak of the night, the hour in which shadows paint mysterious pictures across the Macropolis streets, Xander makes his move. He is well aware that Dr Carpenter has been making huge leaps of progress in the Leviathan project, and realizes he needs to infiltrate – in plain sight – as quickly as possible to ensure the success of his mission.

“Pretty chilly night, eh Xander?” A lowly security guard questions him as he swipes his key-card to gain access to the laboratory wing of the Daymon building. Xander replies cooly, “Couldn't have come sooner, I've been getting sick of the heat myself.” The door hisses open and Xander steps inside, hearing the metallic door come clanging to a close behind him.

He is completely undetected in his assumed role as head of the laboratory. This was a long-term assignment, years in the making. “And tonight is the night it all pays off,” Xander thinks to himself, smiling at the thought of an early retirement in the beaches of Jakith. Reaching the test chamber, he readies his hacking device.

The data transfer had begun. Years of research floods into Xanders hacking software, instantaneously available on the Paragon and Shadow servers. After the data transfer is successfully completed, he walks to the console standing directly in front of the Project Leviathan testing chamber. He quickly sabotages the Flux-stabilizer and misplaces the frequencies of all the measuring devices.

Unbeknownst to Xander, new security measures had been installed just last week as per Dr Carpenter's orders. An intrusive alarm is screeching through the speakers, piercing and deafening. Xander is startled and knows full well Daymon security are already on their way. But they're no match for his superior cybernetics.

Dashing to the exit, Xander narrowly squeezes through the giant steel bold security doors enclosing the Project Leviathan room. He doesn't escape unscathed – his left arm his crushed in the steel from the elbow down. Blood gushes in torrents and wires flail about, sparking in a frenzy, their light dancing off the blood splatter in a sickly beautiful display of gore and bad timing. Xander is unaffected, the pain medication implanted into his right arms medical technology surging through his veins simultaneously with a surge of adrenaline. He rips his left arm out of the enclosure, losing everything below the elbow, yet sprints onward.

Before Xander even turns the corner he's aware of, and ready for, the Sentries standing there with their gun fixed. They fire a burst of rounds as he turns the corner but he front flips over the bullet spray and lands directly behind the two of them, quickly snapping the guard on the lefts neck in just a way that causes him to gun down the guard on the right. Before the two Sentries manage to hit the floor Xander has connected a fatal kick to the throat of another Sentry rounding the corner. On he runs.

Xander escapes through an air duct as more Sentries run into the hall. The Sentries gaze at their fallen comrades for but a second before spraying bullets all across the air-vent. Xander is already gone though, crawling with speed and purpose towards an exit. Finally he kicks the air duct leading to the outside of the facility, and hops right down on a hover bike he had left there hours earlier. As Xander kicks the bike into gear and it's propulsion mechanisms kick in, he sees a shadowy figure standing at the end of the alleyway, blocking his exit.

Xander guns the accelerator and whirs right towards the figure. The figure lifts its right hand and fires a single round, then side-steps just in time for Xander to fly past. The front left propulsion tube has been breached, a perfect shot to send the bike spiraling back towards the ground. The explosion is massive, and Xander is thrown from the wreckage, his legs torn off in the brunt of the blow, most of skin melted off and his circuitry tangled in a sparking mess. “Fuck, the pain meds are wearing off....”
Xander is now crawling away, leaving a trail of boiling blood and torn circuitry in his wake. He hears footsteps coming towards him slowly, purposefully. As the steps reach right behind him Xander turns his head, his murderer revealed.

“You son of a bit-”

Before Xander can finish cursing him out, General Hicks puts a plasma slug right through his forehead.

“Got you, you rat bastard.”


RISE OF THE DEMONS



The whole laboratory is vibrating violently, a hideous mechanical grinding sound deafening everyone in a half mile radius. The lights in the laboratory are flickering off and on, meshing with the hellish grinding sound, giving the room the aura of some sort of twisted dance club. The Black hole pulsates unnaturally, and out steps a changed Dr. Carpenter. With a bowed head and sporting a maniacal grin, his face is white as a sheet, ghastly and otherworldly.

With his eyes creepily closed, he steps forward, deeply breathing the electrically charged air, his chest rising and sinking slowly with each step he takes. As he slowly opens his eyelids, a gleaming green light shines out. Dr Carpenter is now walking towards the sealed entrance of the testing chamber. The scientists and engineers in the laboratory seem to have been broken from their spell, and scramble to ensure security measures are taken. Just as a giant steel plated door double-seals the chamber, Dr Carpenter reaches it. He isn't alone, though...

What looks like HELL itself now starts to pour out of the portal. Creatures half-machine and half demon crawl into the test chamber. Their eyes flair, full of anticipation for the impending invasion and feasting. The terror of 10,000 endless nightmares commences. One of the creatures, a sickly mesh of flesh and sparking circuitry, reaches the entrance to the chamber. Dr Carpenter steps aside, allowing the creature access to the steel plates, which the creature starts smashing. Lab technicians and engineers start fleeing from the room, their cries frail and panicked. General Hick's men stand, holding rifles with shaking hands, pointed directly at the testing chambers entrance.

With the 7th mighty strike the creature has blown through both doors. Chunks of steel fly out, one metallic shard impaling a soldiers throat, torrents of blood pouring from the wound. The soldiers open fire immediately, the first creature taking bullets up and down it's body, sparks cascading off its metallic parts and a sickly green blood shooting out from its fleshy parts. To the horror of the soldiers, the creatures blood starts to melt right through the floor. A big chunk of blood soaked flesh lands on a desk, burning through almost immediately, landing on the unlucky engineer hiding beneath. The acidic blood and chunks of flesh immediately melt the engineers flesh, his horrific screams now echoing in a symphony with the carnage being unleashed.

Metallic clanging rings crisp through the halls as mechanical feet stride with purpose across the cold floor of the laboratory. The labored whir of plasma-operated engines and the rattling of pipes are completely drowned out by the battle ensuing within the Daymon laboratory. The cybernetic demon hybrids pouring out of the portal seem to be never-ending, and Dr Carpenter appears to be allied with them, or perhaps possessed by them. Shapes from nightmares take form in the portal, one after another, as if long forgotten Gods sickened by humanity and coming to wipe the slate clean.

Daymon Laboratory has fallen. Few, if any survivors, remain to warn the public of Macropolis. The stream of demons appears to be never ending, and soon they're filling the city streets. Citizens stare dumbfounded and horrified at these sickly creatures, few standing a chance of survival. The creatures do not initiate the attack, however. They merely stare at the citizens of Macropolis. The humans are frozen stiff, trembling with a primal, instinctual dread that has only now come to the surface for the first time. Only a few people are able to break free from this trance, and sprint in the opposite direction, as the army of monstrosities increase in number.

Then out of nowhere a booming, smoky voice seems to emanate from each demon, as if each demon is hearing it within it's head and all their thoughts are being projected outward. “LET THE HUNT BEGIN” commands the voice, the words echoing menacingly through the city streets. Instantly the bloodbath starts. Bony claws scrape flesh from bone. Acidic spit melts off faces, and razor sharp, spiked teeth deeply penetrate throats. Swords decapitate, spears impale, and bullet fire finds demonic targets as the Macropolis police force fight back. The Vanguard of cybernetic demons are relentless however, sending people running screaming in every direction. People trip over each other in their stampede, some trampled into submission, barely alive as the demons reach them and start feasting from their flesh.

Back inside the building Dr. Carpenter is back at the console, pushing aside bits of flesh and circuitry, the acidic properties having no effect on his hands. He turns the dial higher on the Project Leviathan control console, enlarging the Hole within. The Hole grows until it starts disintegrating the walls of the test chamber, crashing through the roof. And still the hellish creatures march out, swarming out like a fountain. The numbers increase, from the hundreds to the thousands. Dr Carpenter smiles to himself, semi-lucid, not fighting the demonic possession but embracing the power it gives him.


END OF DAYS




The gateway to the hellish dimension continues to grow. It has now swallowed up half of the town. It pulsates, sending ripples to all barely perceivable edges of it's outer rim. It appears to be breathing, in and out, creepily, as if it has a life of it's own.

The demons still pour out of the portal, flying and marching off in all directions. Seeker demons fly about, their eyes glowing out like fog lights, seeking out fresh victims in the now abandoned and blood-stained alleyways of Macropolis. The Seekers fly miles out of the city, flying over the burning homes in suburban settings. A lucky pack of Seekers manage to find what remains of a 5 car pile-up, some of the victims of the accident still alive and writhing. Easy prey....

A mountain of demons are ravaging the countryside beyond Macropolis, moving slowly across the land, laying waste to all before them. These demons have the power to shoot bursts of flames from strange fleshy growths on their wrists. Entire villages are burned to the ground, the charred corpses welcome meals to the hungry demons.
Back in Macropolis, from deep within the portal, booms the same hellish voice that only hours earlier boomed throughout the Macropolis skyline. Only this time it's even more terrifying, and worse still...it's closer. So much closer.

For a moment the stream of endless demons seems to relent. The odd seeker flies out every 10 to 20 seconds, but then – silence. From the skyscrapers in Macropolis, several groups of survivors who have managed to remain hidden up above, watching the apocalypse unfold below them, watch as the stream of demons mysteriously stops. They all look at each other with suspicious relief, not sure if it's just the eye of the storm. Then the ground shakes, like an earthquake, shaking the skyscrapers. Worry returns to the survivors faces. Another shake. Then from the center of the portal steps the terrifying voice, belonging to what is easily the most fearsome and giant of all the demons.

Belial. Worldeater. Cybermancer. This demons flesh had long corroded with steel and circuitry. This creature looked more cybernetic than it did demonic. All of the demons body parts seemed to be enhanced with bionic upgrades. On it's giant chest was a reactor, shining with a threateneing greenish hue. What a sickly combination. Most of the demons had some cybernetic elements, but not as much as the Worldeater. A sickly black mist seemed to follow the creature as it stomped it's way down main street.
The Worldeater bellows an unsatisfied roar, seemingly impatient. He breaths a stream of acidic fire at one of the skyscrapers – the building starts to crumble and melt immediately, the group of survivors inside screaming in terror. It is a sight to behold for the other remaining survivors scattered throughout the buildings, who immediately scramble back down towards the bottom levels, many only making a single step outside before being swiped by a Seeker, their innards being ripped out before tumbling back to the blood soaked pavement below.

Beneath Belial sits a truck, the Project Leviathan control center chained to its rear axel. Behind the wheel sits no other than Dr. Carpenter. Belial speaks to the possessed maniac. “YOU KNOW THE TASK. SPAWN NEW PORTALS ACROSS THE COUNTSIDE!”


DAWN OF THE APOCALYPSE




The war was lost – the planet Lleh had been reduced to a smoldering wasteland, from Macropolis to Jakith. Dozens of portals have sprung up across the entire planet, open wide, thousands of demons pouring out each hourly. The scant survivors on Lleh had absolutely no chance in defending the portals, the only survivors being those that had gone into hiding. The military fought valiantly, but the demons were far to swift and powerful. A little over 1000 demons laid dead, while the casualties for the Lleh people numbered in the millions. The Demons where immune against biological and chemic warfare, and fire and hand guns were also ineffective. The only way to take these bastards down were explosions and dousing them in seas of bullets – but not enough bullets existed on the planet to even take out a 20th of the demons forces, even if each shot hit it's mark with perfect accuracy.

As the demons ravaged the countryside, they burned entire cities to ashes. Many of these cities had Daymon and Paragon laboratories, with prominent abundance of plasma and laser technique weapon manufacturing facilities. Some housed deadly biological weaponry, and in the midst of the chaos, these were also released, poisoning the air, an additional threat joining the forray across the wastelands of Lleh, another hazard for the few survivors left to contend with.

The weaker of the demons where unarmed and strode on all fours, hunting the people like bloodhounds, ripping them apart and feasting on their flesh. They killed everyone they could find - no mercy for the woman or the children. The majority of the population had met their maker – they were no longer the highest species on the planet, no longer at the top of the food chain. This was their extinction level event.

Inside a underground bunker in Macropolis the Crisis committee had assembled together, somehow managing to avoid the initial onslaught of the demons. The Macropolis President was dead - like many other he was slaughtered brutally and feasted upon by the hellish creatures.

Fear and desperation lies on the faces of the committee. Not a single member uttered a word. The radio-telephone operator told additional stories of woe and despair from all across Lleh. Jakith and Rustland had also fallen. At least 90% of the entire world had perished, now outnumbered 100 to 1 by the demons, their numbers only increasing by the hour. The combined forces of Lleh could not stop the invasion, even if they had time to prepare and all joined forces. Jakith had made a bold attempt minutes earlier, launching a nuclear strike on their own land in an attempt to destroy the demons. This did wipe out thousands more demons, serving as the biggest hit to their ranks...but it was not enough.

A panicked soldier now sprints into the bunker, bearing the horrible news – the demons had penetrated the defenses of the facility. They'd be in the control room in mere minutes. The soldier than collapsed dead, as if to accentuate his point. The decision was unanimous, at that point. Macropolis will launch their nuclear weapons as well - the Country was lost. Hell, at this point, the entire planet was lost. But Lleh would not fall by the claws of the demons. If the free folks of Lleh are to die, it will be by their own doing, in a sacrificial blaze of glory. They will ride out the waves of nuclear hellfire, hopefully eradicating the demons and offering the few hundred survivors who had retreated to bunkers the chance to start civilization anew in the decades to come.

The codes are entered with observed silence, all the security hatches of the building grinding open. The highest ranking officer who remained, second in command to General Hicks who had disappeared before the invasion, pushes the button as the remaining committee make peace with their Gods and sit together in collective solidarity against the demons. The screams and screeches of demons echo through the hallways as the final codes are entered. Trembling hands enter the final codes, the demons bursting through the door just as the final button is pressed to launch the nuclear strike.

The air stands sickly still for but a second, then chaos. White lightning blinds the committee and the thunderous roar of the nuclear explosion deafens them seconds before they and the demons invading the bunker are vaporized.


NOTHING SHALL REMAIN




After the all-eating fire, nothing remains – everything and everyone, save a scant few survivors scattered across Lleh, hidden deep underground in nuclear-resistant bunkers, have been torn to shreds by demons or vaporized by the hellfire of a hundred nuclear explosions. The demons themselves were even fell by the explosions, the majority of them wiped out or gravely injured. Hundreds of demons limped back through the closing portals, and the few that remained on Lleh wandered the countryside, injured and slowly dying of starvation. The fallen cities are but dust and ash, a monument to the failure of civilization and the greed of those who inhabited it. Time seems to stand still...nothing moving, no sounds...only silence. Deathly, unsettling silence. Nothing shall remain.


D1G1T4L H3LL




 In a far away place, across dimensional planes, breaks an evil laugh through a darkly silence. It screams I WON defiantly, with a hellish and raved voice, speaking the dead tongue of a language long dormant.

„Well played, old friend,“ snarls a response. A whispered laugh continues the conversation. „Let us start something new, father.“


WORLDEATER




MELTDOWN





RED HORIZON






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