#unpluggedrising

There it was again. The sound of something large moving through the air; the rushing wind; the beating propellers. Around and around it goes with its heavy weight only supported by those endlessly spinning blades. One mistake, and you are dead. One mistake and its lifeless eye glows red, pulsating, its weapons whirring as they power up. Within just a few seconds, all that you had ever been, all that anyone could ever be, was turned into gore, into a red smear on the dark, cracked ground below. All that was left was the silence, the echoing emptiness of a life lost and meanwhile that horrible drone just kept going as if nothing at all had happened. As if nothing was missing. 

Once upon a time, he had seen it happen. Hell, the noise, the strawking noise so piercing, so painful in its suddenness. Worst of it all had been the silence following it. Worst of all had been the silence, and the implications of it. That day he had lost his best friend, his one companion, his light in the dark, cruel world that he now found himself in. After that, he was alone again. Only, loneliness had never been that heavy.

At first, he had simply tried to just go on, remember the words his brother had told him so many times before; the promises they had given each other; the words of love and deep, tender care. How many times had he not promised him that if either of them passed, if an accident happened, the other would continue on? How many times had he not asked him to promise the same and the relief when he did? Never had he thought that his brother would be the one to go first. Never had he realised how much his presence meant to him.

Perhaps, it was the fact that the two of them had gotten out of True Reality together. They were side by side when they unplugged, side by side when they realised what hid beneath the sleek, beautiful world that True Reality tried to be was a horror beyond comprehension. If he was honest with himself, when his brother first brought up the idea of a darkness hidden beneath it all, he had not believed it. Before the horror that the lies he had been fed was, all he had been able to do was dismiss it. After all, with so many hours of endless entertainment; how could he ever think that it was a bad thing? There was no way. Now in hindsight, however, he knew that when his companion first brought forth the idea, there had never been a doubt in his mind. He had just been scared, that was all. Terrified.

And here he was again, terrified once more.

Above him, the sound of the drone slowly drifted away, leaving behind only the creaking of the metal, the sound of sand drifting in from the crack in the door. Luckily enough for him, those drones had not found him yet. After the accident, there was no way he could bring himself to go back to the home he once shared with his brother, to the bunker that they had first found together after they fled from the horrifying lie that True Reality was. Together they had made a home, but a home now lost to the silence that always followed death. Instead, he had found a new place in a strange building that reminded him a bit of the 4D cinemas in True Reality. It was nothing in comparison to what code could do to the human brain, but the big hall; the empty chairs; the high ceiling; it was all beautiful in a way that he had never seen before.

There is beauty in everything, even in this destroyed world

Those words still filled his heart to this day. After hearing it repeated over and over again like some sort of a mantra by his brother, it was stuck. Some nights when the sound of distant bombs, when the screaming became too much, he had heard his brother whisper it over, and over again into the dark, cramped space. Now, he found himself thinking about them more than he ever thought he would. After all, his brother had been right, had he not? For months after his brother's death, he lost himself more and more to the sound of the drone, to the creaking of the metal that surrounded him, to the endless supply-runs and the memory of blood that they all brought back to him. No longer did he feel like himself, feel human at all. He felt more akin to the drone outside, to its mechanical, endless cycle, than the humanity that once made him unplugged. Now, he knew that he had been losing himself. He knew that he had stood before a drop so terrifying in its implications, and at the time he had almost been blind to it.

Until, he one day stumbled upon something he never thought he would feel again - humanity. At first, as he changed the channels of his radio just to listen to static rather than the ever creaking metal, he had thought nothing of it when the static was replaced with voices. Unaware of it all, he had merely stopped endlessly changing, and stopped to listen. Eventually, he never changed the channel again. Instead, all he could do was wait. All he could do was wait for those voices to return. It was about that time that he realised what it all was. Those voices on the radio, on the broadcast, they were human. They were so painfully, beautifully human. All those months, he had always avoided Robyn, and now he had found something else. Someone else.

There is beauty in everything

Yes. No matter how dark things were, how lonely he became, the fact was undeniable. There was a beauty in everything. There was always something beautiful to find, if one just opened themselves up to listening. In the end, they were what saved him, he knew that all too well. For so long, he had felt as if there was nothing left, nothing at all left in this cruel world, but then he found it again. Hope entered his heart once more as he listened to the confirmation that there were indeed people outside of True Reality that still lived, that still laughed, that still loved, that joked, that played. And he listened. Week after week after week, he listened. Together with those strangers, he laughed quietly for the first time since the loss of his brother. He cried, but they were no longer tears of desperate hopelessness, but of emotions he had been void of for so long. In their voices, in their stories, he found hope, he found strength, he found determination. As their voices filled his heart with hope, his conviction grew.

There was no way he would let himself sit there forever, no way he could let his brother's memory die with him. If there were people out there fighting, out there living, he wanted to find them, he wanted to join them, needed to. Thus, he had packed the backpack that now stood leaning against his leg where he was seated in front of his radio. Everything he could possibly need was therein; food and water to last weeks, a torch, a knife, clothes, a portable radio with headphones that he had somehow managed to find after weeks of searching, and the drawing he had made of his brother. All was ready for departure and his heart was hammering in his chest, its beats sending shivers of anticipation through his body, filling him with a nervous energy that made him almost tremble. Yet, he remained calm, remained strong, remained sure. Soon, he knew they would come on once more. They were his signal. They were his hope. The drone was long gone, and now was a better chance than ever.

The radio filled with a stronger static, its white noise a melody he was long used to, but he could hear the familiar tones, the familiar ways that always came before a broadcast. His grip of his backpack grew tighter as he took a deep breath.

"My name is Saga" he began whispering to himself, his voice hoarse from months without speaking, from his isolation, yet strong with a conviction that finally stilled that hammering heart of his even as it broke. For a moment, he merely breathed, before he cleared his voice and continued speaking in a hushed, quiet voice. "My name is Saga and my brother's name was Anders. This is the day I’ll finally try to find people again” the more he spoke, the more he felt the strength course through him, could hear his voice grow stronger, steadier. “I will join their cause against Portablyat. I’ll fight for a better future, for Anders, for everyone that have died at the hands of those monsters.”

“I-I know none of you can hear me, but I'm coming to join you” his voice grew into a whisper once more, though a small smile played on his lips, a weak one cracked by months of pain. “I don't know where you are, or how even to find you, but Strawk! I will find you! Kevin, Mitch, Jemarc, Manny. Thank you for showing me that there is still love in this broken world. Thank you for reminding me that I can’t give up"

Tears were welling up in his eyes, his heart heavy with the loss of his brother, but light with a hope that made him smile even as his eyes stung, even as the cold, salty tears were rolling down his cheeks. In front of him, the radio made a scratching sound once more before he heard their voices, their familiar voices that had told him stories of three characters that found companionship in each other despite their circumstances, that found hope even as they were in literal Hell. Again, he could hear their laughing voices, and his heart filled with a calm, with a steadiness he had not felt for a long, long time. Yes. Somehow, he was going to find them, he was going to join them, and they were all going to survive.

There was always beauty, even in this broken world, and Saga had found beauty in a tale told by friends. On the radio, Mitch finally spoke the words that Saga loved to hear, and with them, he hoisted up his backpack on his shoulders. With another steadying breath, he dried the remnants of tears on his cheeks, and looked at the radio one final time.