#vziii

What was once a large, cylindrical, authoritarian building now was just crumbled cement, a surviving museum of the old world. Wishing to retrieve the informations kept from them for so long, the citizens voted to scavenge and investigate the place. And so, on this fine autumn day, Kristen, accompanied by a handful of volunteers, began to step through heaps of rubble where the Dick Elders’ Council office once stood, her golden blonde hair having her stand out from the others cleaning up the ruin. Gloves in hand and backpacks filled with Ziplock bags, the team began picking at crumbled rocks and cement blocks, hoping to find some sort of documentation of the past institution. Pieces of dusty chipped marble hinted the Dick Elders’ Council podium, its faint glow from the light’s reflection catching Kristen’s eyes. Mindfully walking towards, her light grey sneakers stepping away from any sharp stones on her improvised ‘path.’ When she had made it close enough to the remains of the table where the Elders would sit and commune, she wasn’t quite prepared for such a surprise.   Right there under the chunks of chipped marble and cement, disassembled stacks of yellow manila folders were right before Kristen’s eyes. Inside each one, an odd collection of files was packed neatly. Kristen scanned through each one slowly, fortunate that no one disturbed her study. One of them was a map of Ninja Town, like she remembered in history class, a land that was somehow lead to corruption for reasons she forgot, only that an odd name ‘Europe’ was crossed out. Another had a few pages ripped from a ring notebook diary, each of them filled with records of amount of people killed each day, summing up to around 300 deaths throughout the papers. More and more folders were scanned through, each one containing fascinations of the history the Elders never even hinted at before.  Countless prints of photographs were tucked in multiple other folders, showing Kristen’s heroes Danny and Ninja Brian in what she could presume their world. Places in said images ranged from an Attitude City and their concerts in a New Jersey, typically showing the duo on either high-speed adventures or with ladies in bright-coloured underwear. Along with them were more sparse documents: advertisements for sex training, a legend of a beast called a manticore, news articles of Ninja Sex Party hijinks of homicides and public disturbances… Out of all these folders, one truly pursued Kristen’s curiosity. She remembered Danny in blue shimmering spandex, but she couldn’t recall a grey-haired man with scars upon his face. His long-sleeved black shirt and pants seemed familiar, however, hinting  The only other person Kristen could associate Sexbang with was a man in a black ski mask and… Was this man kissing Danny the man underneath the black cotton mask? … did they… were they both… Kristen pushed that thought aside and fumbled to look through one more folder. It wasn’t like she understood the aspect of love and affection yet. The bottom and final folder, oddly, contained only one document: a rough parchment folded once or twice to fit into its folder. When unfolded, Kristen presumed the vintage paper was once a scroll, as it seemed to curl up at its ends. In a slight mess of a cursive penmanship, the following text almost put everything together for her. To My Descendants:    If this is to be read, I pray that the Samurai Abstinence Patrol is victorious in the your history. I pray the sinful Ninja Sex Party hasn’t infiltrated your mind or altered the earth’s culture of divinity. If so, please keep this in mind: Ninja Sex Party preaches of instinctive displays of emotion without consequences. Not a lick of morality can be found within said ‘band.’ Living their own lives with no self control of murderous intent or sexual desire is one conflict, yet advocating it be the way for all is simply inhumane.    Not to mention, they had depended upon their instincts so much they’ve went against their own moral. It seemed they have declared unlawful lust, or according to them ‘romantic feelings,’ for each other. Two men in unholy affair, kisses or none, can’t possibly bring anything beneficial to this planet or timeline.    The way to true happiness, I hope they know, is not simply from a life full of pleasure. It is derived from restraints from the unlawful deeds, control of the childish impulses, abstinence from the world’s cheap temptations. You find it in a meal with more vegetables when you’re on a diet, on a day you complete work before letting yourself play a game with friends, on the night of your wedding with a humble person or opposite sex to complete your duty as a father or mother.    And so, in this will of mine, I regret that I can leave nothing further than an aspiration: a purified world. A union where all are well-disciplined and fueled upon morals, where they are truly happy. Perhaps a world with no temptation of pricey materials of premarital sex, or any need for intercourse, will be best for this. I pray that this aspiration of mine, this hope for a nation free of animalistic impulse, will be the world’s mutual goal.     Dear reader of the future, may the path you and your brethren traveled be pure and lawful, and may the irk of Ninja Sex Paety be far from you. Know that instincts of desire and joy are not to be trusted. Have your head rule over your chest and loins. If you find that these lusts are too strong, run to the illusion of marriage, and find yourself a disgrace to our Patrol and name. - Arin Neverbone, Samurai Abstinence Patrol Founder and Leader