World Building Edenfall Worldbuildng Journal

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Hello,

I am currently working on a world called Edenfall. The gist of the story is a common fight-of-big-sticks trope where the conflict ends in a nuclear holocaust. Where it begins to diverge is a hard science-fiction approach through dystopian and cyberpunk megacorporations. The three major megacorporations, Kabusei, NewStar, and AurumGate, could effectively escape to the Moon while the Earth was burned below. Kabusei is the typical overbearing megacorporation that you would see in most dystopian films. NewStar represents the evil of industrial progress through mining and pollution, and AurumGate is a megabank. Now, 47 years after the "End Event," Kabusei wants to recolonize the Earth.

The "End Event" marks the day of the nuclear war. Starting in 2025, the Russo-Ukrainian War evolved into a full-scale conflict between NATO and CSTO (Russian NATO). That war ended in 2029 when Russian oligarchs usurp Vladimir Putin and sued for peace. In the same year, though, China invaded Taiwan, and the United States fought for a couple of months, then backed off. In 2034, North Korea nuked Seoul, and a war on the Korean Peninsula ensued, but the United States did not get involved because China warned of nuclear retaliation. China doesn't help NK in this war since they started it, but the Western powers pulled a Ukraine deal where they gave SK a lot of money and weapons. Japan is the only other country that helps SK. Similar to Russia, the Second Korean War ends in a coup. SK annexes the rest of the Korean peninsula. Because the West now had a direct border with China, the Chinese government waged full-scale economic and hybrid warfare that further destabilized the world. In 2054, a nuclear apocalypse happened for unknown reasons, though it is said the Chinese launched the missiles first.

Kabusei became successful by selling robocops to the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department and eventually supplying the Japanese and South Korean governments with several divisions of robotroops during the Second Korean War. After their success through war profiteering, Kabusei continued to expand and eventually had a merger with Samsung. By 2050, Kabusei was a premiere space company and had mastered reusable spacecraft, even sending a colony ship to Mars. Leading up to the End Event, many people were on the Kabusei "K-Line" heading up to the Moon to join lunar colonies. In the 47 years between the End Event and their recolonization initiative begins, the Kabusei mainly stick to the Moon, asteroid belt, and Mars. Kabusei has chartered two major colonies, one in New York and the other in Texas. They have several reconnaissance and research outposts scattered throughout the country. Kabusei also operates a private "security force," the Kabusei Defense Service Group (KDSG), comprised of Kabusei employees and androids.

NewStar was an Australian mining company that successfully mined asteroids in partnership with Kabusei. After scientists at NewStar pioneered usable and broadly applicable hydrogen fuel cells, their prominence skyrocketed. Using their Heliocells, NewStar again partnered with Kabusei and the Australian Space Agency to charter an industrial and research facility on the Moon, the New Melbourne Complex. NMC exploited the natural resources of Mare Frigoris and pioneered with helium-3 thermonuclear fusion reactor. When NewStar became capable of producing 3He on an industrial level, NewStar began to export resources back to the Australian government, becoming the most profitable energy and mining company in history.

Kabusei and NewStar had a brief and bloody conflict in the early 2050s over regolith mining rights. The two came to an agreement where Kabusei sold their mining rights contracts in exchange for unlimited power supply to Kabusei colonies and stations on the Moon. Their relationship is periodically dotted with corporate espionage, assassinations, and "accidents" at each other's facilities. NewStar has also engaged in a rival colonization program, focusing on the Levant instead of the United States.

AurumGate was originally a London hedge fund that was incredibly successful and grew up into a big boy bank. Throughout a tumultuous second half of the 21st century, AurumGate was at the front lines of generating profit through selling war bonds, financing the arms manufacturers, and selling loans to several countries to rebuild their infrastructure and economy after the war. Only a couple of years after the End Event did AurumGate return to Earth. Using autonomous drones and a sophisticated global satellite network (Satcom), AurumGate placed hundreds of thousands of solar-powered, radiation-hardened terminals worldwide and facilitated an exchange network known as the Golden Gate. After Satcom and Golden Gate were established, AurumGate released "salvo," a cryptocurrency that now acts as the world's reserve currency, enabling trade between factions worldwide. Additionally, Terran factions can trade with NewStar and Kabusei through trading salvos.

This is generally a simplification of my current lore, but it hits on all the significant points. Please critique realism with some generosity for creativity. What do we think?

Thank you in advance for your support.

 

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Slight update:

I reworked a lot of the lore.

• I changed the timeline a lot. Now the End Event happens in 2087 vs. the original 2054. Additionally, the world takes place 79 years post-Event, so in 2166. I did this mainly to add some more realism to the futuristic technology. It still definitely took a lot of creative liberty on the pace of technological evolution, but it seems more plausible than it was before
• I fleshed out the End Event lore a little, tweaked the reason behind the apocalypse, and added more depth to the space settings of Edenfall.
• Significantly overhauled the lore for Post-Event Earth. Altered the exodus to Luna a bit; reframed it as an uptick in space tourism and then just the 1%'ers saved by corporate interests.
• Wrote new lore for Luna and lunar society tracking from 2025 to 2166. Super interesting stuff.
• Added a new lunar faction called the New Selenic Republic so it wouldn't just be like two megacorporations.
• I expanded on Martian colonization lore a bit. I expanded on the colonization of the solar system in general. Not sure what direction I want to take yet.
• Fleshed out the nation-states, guilds, warbands, corporations, and tribes. Added a mystical pacifist faction called "The Archivists." Playing around with a new idea for a renegade android civilization.
• Turned up the knob on the technology level pretty significantly to include cloning, brain-computer interfaces, cybernetic augmentations, and propulsion technology improvements (aerospace engineering in general).

I need to flesh out the Earth factions (nation-states, guilds, warbands, tribes, churches) more before I push this forward. I also want to explore the ecosphere. It'd be cool to have megafauna/megaflora and mutants running around the planet. Still, I don't know much about radiological mutations or evolution, so I must explore that more.

About 5,000 words deep in lore at this point.

 

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• I might change the timeline again. Move the End Event date to 2119 and have the setting occur in 2262. I'm trying to get a grasp on feasible technological development as well as social/cultural reformation.
• I reevaluated the ecological outlook for Earth post-apocalypse. I guess the initial heating of the planet would cause the polar ice caps to melt ... but then things would get cold again with a nuclear winter? I don't know. I am still working on it.
• I am ramping up the levels of aridity in the Southwest United States. A creeping Sahara Desert/Fallout: New Vegas vibe, probably.
• I am trying to think "scientifically" about where people would live post-apocalypse. I am struggling between the coastal regions because the nuclear winter, as an immediate consequence of a nuclear war, would cool global temperatures significantly. However, 50+ years later, the destruction of forests would lead to increased greenhouse gases, furthering the effects of climate change and endangering the coastal regions again. However, there's probably significant regrowth in many of these places as nature reclaims its land. At some point, I might have to throw in the towel for this and use my creative liberties.
• I think I'll expand the presence of space in Edenfall. If I increase the End Event to 2119 and the start date to 2262, the Lunar colonies would be 229 years old, and the Martian colonies would be 215 years old. I think both would grow to be pretty substantial by then. It would also be reasonable to have several fixed space stations throughout the solar system and a potential habitat station in orbit around Earth, like Elysium (2013).
  • I have been exploring what this orbital habitat would look like. I ruled out ring worlds quickly because that would be difficult to manage, even for a society in the 22nd century. I am thinking likely an O'Neill cylinder, Stanford torus, Bernal sphere, or a super large space station. My issue with this is governance and feasibility.
    • There are three "governments" on the Moon (hereby called Luna). Two are megacorporations, the Kabusei Corporation and the NewStar Group. The third is the remnant of an international cooperative called the New Selenic Directorate, formerly the Lunar Autonomous Authority, jointly governed by the Space Colonization and Administration Board. The Kabusei and NewStar are the most likely to build the orbital habitat, but then again, they wouldn't. There's no real reason for an orbital habitat to be built in the first place.
      
      Past Logos is wrong. After using an exponential growth function with an initial population of ~100,000, an exponential rate of e, a high-moderate annual growth rate of 4.249%, and a timeline of 229 years, Luna's population would be 1,737,930,197 (1.7 billion) or almost 20% of what Earth's population would probably be. According to my calculations, the Carrying Capacity formula, the max population we could see on the moon is roughly 4.1 million.
      
      In light of this new information, about 88 years in, the colonies would hit their carrying capacity and have to start enforcing childbirth laws or other population control measures. It'd be cool to change the narrative and add a couple of subsurface layers of society, like on Coruscant in Star Wars, plus adding a secondary (or tertiary) orbital habitat. I think the direction I will take has an orbital habitat and a larger Mars presence than before.
  • What a rant you guys got to experience, for those who read this... if anyone.
• I worked on the incentives matrices for the major factions to help understand the power and relationship dynamics.
• Added some cool radiant locations.
  • Desert pyramid
  • Sky fortress
  • Space stations
• I worked on some flavor stuff for Luna.

 

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I recently read about how it is more advantageous and worthwhile to world-build from the bottom-up rather than from the top down, i.e., try worldbuilding through the eyes of a person in your world rather than from God's eye. Below is an exercise providing a slice of life into Adrian Mercer, a Terran descendant, and miner at NewStar's Sector 9 Regolith Mine.

--- Adrian Mercer ---
* * *​

A ringing stirs the Worker awake. It's the alarm. 0600. Top of the Terran morning. Lazily, the Worker gets up from his bunk. The Worker slowly creeps down from the third level on the ladder at the foot of the bed, careful not to step on one of his sleeping coworkers. After climbing down a handful of rungs, he jumps from the rails onto the concrete floor, his bare feet slapping against the cold concrete. He stretches with his hands on his lower back and pops his vertebrae, moving his hands up to the jaw and back of his skull and then forcefully loosening the tension between the joints in his neck. The Worker drops to the floor, repping out a couple of wide-grip push-ups, bringing his arms in for close-grip push-ups, and then finishing with a set of plyometric push-ups. After several more stretches, he walks out of the worker's quarters.

As the Worker approaches the door, the pneumatics hiss, urging the dull steel open. The other side of the door reveals a long hallway with a similar door at the other end. About ten meters forward, a cavity emerges from the right wall—the lockers. The Worker moseys inside the room, surrounded by walls of aging white paint and unadorned lockers.

Arriving at his locker, the small screen instantly lights up, recognizing the RFID chip sewn into the Worker’s skin. The Worker grabs his disheveled and fading blue-and-gray jumpsuit. On the left breast is a white patch with “Adrian” sewn in a blue thread. Sticking his fingers through the pull straps, Adrian heaves on his work boots, draping the blue pantleg over the top. He slowly weaves the end of his utility belt through the loops around his waist and tightens them, securing a small pouch on his right to hold his paperwork and other necessary items. After suiting up for the day, Adrian heads towards the restroom. Standing in front of the mirror, his uFile appears on the screen, and a text scroll appears. He sticks his hand under the paste tablet dispenser and begins to brush his teeth while reading the morning briefing.

“Good morning, NS-09M118846. You are scheduled for a 915-minute shift today, or 15 hours and 15 minutes. You have been assigned 45 minutes for recreation and subsistence. Your scheduled lunch period is between 1130 and 1140. Today’s menu is Menu 47, Powdered potatoes and gravy.” Adrian stops reading the mirror to spit out the paste, muttering. He raises his gaze to the mirror again to finish his debrief.

“Today, you will gross 137.25 Salvos. Your net pay will be $19.67 after the following deductions: 35% Lodging and Subsistence Tax, 25% NewStar Retirement and Health Savings Account Deduction, 10% Lunar Economic Zone Employment Fee, 5.67% NewStar StellarSafety™ Protection Program Fee, and 10% Terran Penalty. This will bring your total savings up to $59.01.” Adrian has worked at NewStar’s Sector 9 Regolith Mine for 2,663 days. His total net compensation has been $52,381.21.

Adrian’s next fifteen hours will be a quiet droning on supervising a giant drill, digging into the Lunar soil. His only break is the brief ten minutes where he scarfs down hyper-dense powdered potatoes and gravy to meet his minimum daily caloric intake. After his shift ends, he prays for thirty minutes at the foot of his bunk and then crawls to his level, laying on the stiff mattress. He eats a melatonin tablet to force him to sleep. Otherwise, the tinnitus would keep him awake all night. As he prepares to close his eyes for bed, he stares at a picture he taped beneath his bunkmate's frame - a picture of his younger brother on his first day of school. He goes to bed peacefully.

A conceptualization of the Worker's Quarters, generated by Midjourney AI.

--- Next Day Reflection ---
* * *
​

In hindsight, that writing wasn't the best I've ever written. Frankly, it wasn't good writing. It was extremely late and very short. I probably should have saved the initial draft, reworked it, then published it. I'm not going to go back and edit it now. An ugly stain is a good lesson. I did, however, enjoy the world-building exercise. I honed hard on the employment logic behind the NewStar Group. Here's what I think I did well:

Successes

• Adequately explored NewStar's employment practices​
  • Developed employee ID to help break down further logistics of the company​
    • NS-09M118846​
      • NS = NewStar​
      • ... 09 ... = The operating geographic sector, in this case, Sector 9 of Luna​
        • I don't know where Sector 9 is. I do like, however, the idea of NewStar/Kabusei/etcetera having geographic designations, just like how corporations in real life have different operating regions.​
      • ... M11 ... = a job title descriptor. In this case, Miner I​
      • ... 8846 = a randomized string of four digits to create a unique employee ID​
  • Illustrated dystopia​
    • Brutal living conditions. The description of the long hours, little pay, high deductions, and demoralizing food helps illustrates how dystopian the world is for the average person.​
    • Drug abuse. Although it's melatonin and not a controlled substance, reliance on drugs is a common theme in Edenfall. Even in minute applications, the people of the universe are still consumed by drug consumption.​
    • Limited access to education. I didn't explore Adrian's little brother, but I was able to suggest that through Adrian's great sacrifice, education is limited to Luna - at least to Terrans.​
    • Brief description of cybernetic implants (RFID chip). The RFID was sort of "low-tech" for the setting, but it got the job done. I like the idea of NewStar/megacorps "branding" their lower-wage workers like cattle with digital chips. I think this exacerbates the inequality levels nicely. Now that I'm thinking about it, I even like the idea of the megacorps branding workers. ​
  • Introduced immersive elements through Adrian's payroll description, including uFile technology, the natural Selenic discrimination against Terrans, and the Lunar Economic Zone.​

Shortcomings

• Not very descriptive. If I had spent more time writing the slice-of-life story, I'd have been able to convey the environment common to these sorts of installations better. For example, characterizing the smells, the run-down nature of the equipment, the rapport between the workers and managers, etc.
• Disorganized. This is more of a syntactical and writing critique, but there's a jump here and there. This, again, deals with the brevity of the text. If I had spent more time writing, I think I would have been better able to describe the movement between the locker room and Adrian's workstation. This would have also offered the opportunity to illustrate the world better.
• Not a lot of detail. The point with Adrian's little brother is sticking with me. I am trying to decide how much I want to limit public access to education. In my headcanon, 143 years post-Event, civilization is pretty much nascent, still. Only recently have large-scale infrastructure projects, like a transcontinental railroad, or even regional road systems, have been on the agenda of Terran New Nations governments. It would make sense for education to be limited on Earth except for large settlements and maybe the occasional university. However, I guarantee that I want tertiary education in all large countries.
  
  On Luna, though, it makes sense for everyone to have access to education, especially in the liberal New Selenic Directorate. It might be interesting to explore the idea of the Duradis (the {Solspeak} word for the NewStar, Kabusei, AurumGate companies; Duradis means "the families of heaven") controlling/limiting education to create more blue-collar workers and helping restrict the intellectual capability and chance of revolting against them. Alternatively, it would also make sense for the Duradis to offer education to placate the masses and incentivize citizens from the other corporations to emigrate to theirs for working purposes.
  
  I haven't shown much love to Mars, but considering that they will be 215 years old at the story's beginning, I need to start developing them more. I am hesitant to touch them too much right now, though. I started The Expanse today and don't want to rip off the Martians from that universe. Although, I will be stealing some of the creative "slurs"(?) like "Mickeys." Like Luna, I'm more interested in creating a harsh Martian setting and heavily influenced by commercialization. This is because the first Martian colony was a Kabusei Corporation research outpost. Throughout the subsequent 214 years from the colony's founding, most immigration to Mars will come from corporations, with maybe the occasional national colonization mission. However, this would minorly undermine the cyberpunk approach to Edenfall. From this deduction, it seems likely Martians would follow Luna's course regarding education.
• No dialogue. Much great world-building comes from dialogue, and none of it came to fruition in the text other than a brief "conversation" with the uFile AI. This is not a great critique on my behalf, though, considering my intention was for things to be silent. Most of the time, these workers stick to themselves and "get through the day." You won't be super talkative or outgoing when you're getting paid $9/hr to do a laborious and monotonous task.

--- World-Building & Implementation Update ---
* * *
​

I did very little writing today, but I've been brainstorming on some of the issues and questions from last time.

• As alluded to in the reflection above, I will move the timeline. The End Event will now occur in 2119, and Edenfall's start date is 2262. I think this will help enhance the realism behind the story. Additionally, I think this is an appropriate timeline for developing exciting dynamics between the megacorps, New Nations, and Martian colonies.​
• Mars is going to be a lot more than just some infantile colonies. After the End Event in 2119 and the collapse of Earth governments, national colonies (those previously owned by state actors) are absorbed into megacorporations either peacefully or forcibly.
  
  Over the next 143 years, development is restricted because of the distance despite improvements in spacefaring. As colonization continued, the megacorporations began to hold complaints against each other over the scarcity of resources and territory. However, most of these conflicts manifest through occasional skirmishes in space, economic warfare, and diplomatic stubbornness.
  
  Towards the beginning date in 2262, autonomy movements surfaced on Mars. The interspecific differences between Selenites and Martians have come to a breaking point. In some reports, there are armed conflicts. Small-scale revolts typically start as peaceful protests and become violent. "The Martian Independence Dispute" spreads the Duradis' resources thin as they try to balance diminishing the influence of the other Duradis while maintaining their colonies.
  
  In 2262, there was very little emigration from Mars, though it is not unheard of to meet Martians on Luna or on missions to Earth.​
• Within certain settlements, there will be several layers to cities. Verticality is the name of the game for Luna. Also, I did this a bit ago, but I came up with a "cover" for Edenfall.
  
  The image is inspired by the opening scene of Edenfall when I was about to "balls-to-the-wall-it" and post an underdeveloped thread on here a couple of days ago. The image is of a casino steamboat floating down the Mississippi River. ​

The Edenfall cover was also generated by Midjourney AI with some slight photo editing by an untalented author.

--- Questions for the Audience ---
* * *
​

I may be artificially inflating my self-importance; however, I have acquired a small audience. This thread has gotten 102 views in 6 days, probably 15% of those from myself. That means roughly 15 people are viewing this thread daily. Some user interaction further validates this humble hypothesis (thank you Lorsh !). So, for those of you silently keeping up with Edenfall's development, hi ... and thank you!

I do plan on releasing this world to the public in the form of a roleplay soon. "Soon" means between now and when I draw my last breath. Just kidding. I could push this into a "playable" mode within the next seven days or sooner. My questions, then, are as follows:

1. Who would be interested in participating in Edenfall?
2. Would the continuous update to this thread ruin your immersion/experience?
3. Where do you see weaknesses in the world-building?
4. What would you add?
5. Do you guys like the slice-of-life posts?
​

Question 1
The form of Edenfall would be dual-purpose. I am a big fan of the Mount & Blade series. Edenfall could be played as a nation-building roleplay or a one-on-one tabletop. I also would maybe give Edenfall cross-thread interaction. That means the influences of one person could directly affect another, even up to the point the two characters could interact with each other. The only reservation I have is with narrative timeliness and consistency. It is easy for one party to fall behind in activity and derail the narrative.

To reduce confusion, Edenfall would be playable as a nation-building or tabletop game, up to the player's discretion. In both situations, I would be the game master.

Question 2
This thread has become a changelog of sorts for me. Honestly, I have a much more detailed personal set of notes. However, this thread allows me to share developments in real-time, as I usually write simultaneously in my notes and on this thread. I would have to censor the posts for this thread upon pushing Edenfall into play mode unless everyone was okay with not looking/using the information in here to their advantage. Even now, honestly, I censor a good amount.

I'd probably end up "porting" this thread into the Extra Pages forum and updating that thread after pushing Edenfall to play. Would you rather see the continuance of this thread style or the quasi-regular polished updates to a wiki? Even a step further, I could do both! A writing journal and a wiki. I don't want to overexert myself if some of these would not be consumed, though. Let me know what you all think!

Question 4
You can either reply in the thread or message me directly!

 

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In retrospect, I should've just made another post.

 

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Didn't do a lot concerning Edenfall today. However, for unrelated reasons, I've been reading up on Mesoamerican faith recently and have been inspired to create a new belief system. The Aztecs heavily influence the {New Earth Spirit Belief}. The creation myth of the {NESB} is that the nuclear war was a purifying fire across the Earth. In line with the {Neochristian Church}, the {NESB believers} believe that The Mother and The Father were disappointed in their children (humanity) and nuked the world as a divine punishment. The Mother and Father gave Man another chance out of their generosity and love for humanity. {NESB believers} strongly vilify Doradis and those who try to cling to the Old World. I don't know what the last part of that sentence means yet. I don't want them to vilify technology because I want the {NESB} to be the dominant religion of one of the prominent New Nations. Here are some tenets of {NESB} that I jotted down in my notes, though:

• pro-human sacrifice
• pro-warrior culture
• filial piety
• pro-scarring
• strong caste system
• bloodletting
• purification
• "Discourses of the Elders" <- Bible equivalent

I also like the idea of an elite solar military order loosely connected with the {Neochristian Church}. They're essentially mercenaries that can be called upon by the {Space Pope} and rented out to whoever the {Space Pope} deems necessary. They'd be based on an asteroid somewhere in the asteroid belt or orbit around Venus.

Note about the {curly brackets}. Everything within them is a placeholder name until I can find a better lore-friendly name. I decided to throw these in there since this is a quick note, and I haven't done much off-site development.

 

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It's been a while. I'm not going to put anything down for tonight, but I've been extensively working on the years leading up to the End Event.

A side-project that's been distracting me from writing is trying to program a market system that simulates prices based on universal supply/demand for popular commodities/services/etc. It's stupid. I've also been wanting to write another slice-of-life story. Haven't gotten around to the premise of it yet, though. I think it'll be on Mars. Maybe the first colonizers? I don't know.

 

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Currently working on a slice-of-life short story for worldbuilding purposes.

 

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Man's Best Friend
* * *

i. The Chihuahua​

Dust swirled in the air as the sun beamed through the clear sky. The burden of the heat from the fiery heavens weighed The Boy down. The Boy’s boots lightly melted and stuck to the road with each step he took on the blacktop. His throat burned with thirst, and his lips were dry and cracked. He’s been on the road for a couple of days now. The Boy doesn’t remember what happened yesterday or know what will happen tomorrow. All The Boy knows is to put one foot in front of the other in his slow march toward his grave.

His shins and calves are worn. Each step The Boy takes engages a sensation of ten thousand needles puncturing his skin and digging their points into the atrophied muscles of his legs. He has hardly had anything to eat in the last two days, surviving off stale biscuits and jam packets. His water ran out this morning, and he has been on the road for seven hours without a droplet. The sun beams onto his skin, slowly roasting him alive.

Finally, after wandering for hours and as the daylight begins to fade, he finds an abandoned gas station from before the Event. The other letters have fallen off and faded away. However, the remaining letters spell out “CAR” in big red letters on the side of the canopy, and the “C” is slightly tilted to the right, filling in the space where there was a letter before. The building is old and weathered, with the stone having yellowed and all the windows being broken. One of the doors lays on the pavement before it, the other opened inwards, like an inviting hand into a dark cavern.

The Boy walks forward but not before withdrawing a hearty stick from his belt loop. He places both hands fist-over-fist at the bottom of the stick, holding it close to his body as he walks in. The sun’s light is in recession now, barely illuminating the gas station's interior.

A few steps forward, the room's eerie stillness is betrayed by a shuffle and a scurry. A can falls from one of the top shelves, and within the blink of an eye, The Boy finds a ball of patchy white fur, dried skin, beady black eyes, wide ears, and sharp claws lunging toward his face. His muscles tense as he twists his palms around the stick, feeling the wood grain tighten within his hands. He stares at the white blur in front of him and brings the stick in a batting motion as powerfully as he can.

The blunt end of the stick connects with the fur ball and sends it flying to the left side of the store, slamming against the shelf. As quickly as it lands, it’s scurrying again, rushing towards The Boy’s feet. With a mighty heave, The Boy lifts the stick over his head and brings it crashing down on the creature, knocking it unconscious. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. With his eyes closed, he keeps bringing the stick down upon the beast without hesitation. The sound of crunching bones, squelching organs, and lapping blood drives each hit to the corpse until there is a creaking roar of the stick cracking in half. What sound was filled with incessant beating; a quiet sob now substitutes as the stick gently falls from his grip and thuds against the ground.

His eyes stinging and his vision blurry, The Boy sees some mess of guts, blood, fur, and flesh before him. His broken stick lay next to it. The blood is fresh. He falls to his knees and wipes his eyes, staining his face. Silence returns. The Boy falls asleep. His stomach growls.

* * *​

The petrifying heat of the mid-morning sun has crept into the shelter and promoted the pungent smell of the dead rodent lying next to The Boy when he wakes. His eyes fluttering to an open meet a loose eyeball aside the corpse, quickly inspiring him to rush to his feet and out of the building. He just makes it out of the door when he falls to his knees and begins to vomit. He feels his body convulse, his muscles spasm as it fights, and he continues to expel the little water he has. The strain is too much. He falls unconscious under the shade of the canopy.

ii. The Trumpets​

“In a town where streets were a winding, down a dirt country road,” the lyrics radiated softly in a low hum, bouncing off the dirt and road, “Lived a boy with dreams-a’glowin’, his heart made of gold,” the song grew stronger. “But one day Old Fate turned against him, he was all alone, a wander in the unknown, no place to call all his own,” then a crash of multiple voices coming together in harmony,

“He was lost, so far from home,

Through the wilderness he roamed,

But deep within his heart, a fire burned,

Guiding him back, back to his home!”

The troupe continued to sing the folk song as they walked along the path. The traveling choir was a flurry of color and eccentricity. Feathered headdresses, cuffs, wristbands, shawls, and jewelry are dyed in various vibrant colors. Instruments dangled around their necks and found themselves intricately woven on their fingers and arms. A small herd of donkeys follows behind them, adorned with richly colored blankets, dyed leads, and feather harnesses. The donkeys carry an assortment of luggage and barrels, carrying the troupe’s personal effects and water source.

While singing a song about getting rich and buying a ticket from the Dallas Space Port to Luna, the troupe stumbles upon an abandoned gas station. The other letters have fallen off and faded away; however, the remaining letters spell out “CAR” in big red letters on the side of the canopy, and the “C” is slightly tilted to the right, filling in the space where there was a letter before.

“Stop!” A hoarse voice from the troupe commands. The song and instruments cease immediately. An elderly woman emerges from the crowd. She is wearing a floor-length dress with a colorful poncho over top and a feathered crown. Slowly, she makes her way under the gas station's canopy as the rest of the troupe follows behind.

She finds a young boy lying beside a dried patch of vomit, seemingly unconscious. She retrieves a canteen from a sling over her shoulder and unscrews the lid. She lay beside the Boy and pressed her fingers against his neck, feeling a pulse. “Come. Come quickly and help me,” she said, sitting on her rear and spreading her legs open to receive him. A young man from the troupe helped place The Boy in The Woman’s arms as she nursed the canteen to his lips.

The Woman poured water into The Boy’s mouth for a minute and then waited. The Boy did not respond, but his breath became audible again as his insides were rehydrated. Two men from the troupe placed The Boy on one of the donkeys and draped a blanket over his head.

* * *​

The Boy wakes up on the floor with a pillow under his head and a blanket covering him. A nearby fire crackled quietly while a soft melody hummed around the camp. Closer, a donkey lays down, tied to the tree next to it. It was twilight, and the stars were shining brightly in Heaven.

Moving the blanket to his side, The Boy stands up; he notices his backpack leaning on the tree next to him. He walks over to the nearest campfire. A group of five sit ‘round the fire, all eyes closed and quietly humming in harmony with the rest of the camp. For a second, he stares, watching them sway and swoon in the dim light as the sun crawls into its nightly slumber. He opens his mouth to make words, but nothing comes out. He chokes, even. The soft gag is enough to stir the group from their séance. The Woman looks up and sees The Boy. Her eyes have a kind twinkle to them.

“Hello, Boy,” she says. “Please, come sit next to me,” moving a pillow beside her on the floor and patting it. The Boy obliges and sits on the cushion, hugging his knees for a moment, then relaxing, stretching his legs towards the warmth at the center of the circle.

“I am Lyra,” The Woman says. “Who … are you?”

“Child,” The Boy says.

“I know this, my son, but what is your name?”

“We do not have names.”

“Who?”

“My people.”

“From where?”

“Of the desert.”

“A people without names?”

“Christ is our Father. I am a Child. Our names are His.”

“I see. Can I call you Christian, Child?”

“Yes, ma’am, if that’s what you’d like.”

A soft smile slowly creeps across Lyra’s face. She appreciates Christian’s innocence and straightforwardness. It is refreshing, even, to hear of Old Religion again. Lyra always believed that the Old Gods were more poetic, anyway.

“How far are you from home?” Lyra asked.

“I don’t know. When they came, I ran. The Adults tried to keep me hidden, but I heard His voice and ran instead. He told me to run,” Christian said, his gaze shifting toward the small grouping of pebbles between his legs.

“Who came?” Lyra asked, concern in her voice as she touched Christian’s shoulder.

“The Heretics.”

Lyra is quiet for a moment. Her gaze lifts past the cooking pot in the middle of the fire to Milo sitting across from her. A quick exchange of ideas through the movement of eyes, and Milo is preparing a bowl of stew for Christian. The conversation stops for a while until Christian finishes the bowl.

“Thanks, ma’am.”

“Of course, dear. Would you tell me more about these heretics?”

“They are agents of Satan. They ride metal beasts that roar and scream through the desert, and they bring Hell to the Lord’s Earth. We had heard stories of them from travelers.”

The Hellhogs. A group of marauders drove modified scrap vehicles in the American Southwest, terrorizing settlements. Their signature was leaving “Gates to Hell” at every settlement they burned down; two erect pillars with decapitated heads strung together by intestines tied between them. High Boar Hades was the leader, often called The Executioner; his warband struck fear in all travelers. The lucky group might be able to get away with a steep toll, but often, they were murdered and plundered or sold into slavery.

The tale of Christian’s village deeply troubles Lyra. She notices that tears are streaming down his lightly illuminated cheeks. Stillness washes over the campfire circle as the others sit in shock.

“Christian, come with me,” Lyra says, standing while extending her old, frail hand. Christian wipes his face with his forearm and grasps her hand weakly, his young body still emaciated from the lack of food and dehydration.

They walk together into Lyra’s tent, which is substantially larger than the other tents in the troupe. She lays down a sleeping mat with a pillow and blanket, gesturing for Christian to lie down. He does. He sleeps. It is a nice sleep.

iii. Fort Sterling​

The morning was early. Early enough that the breeze was still gentle and cool. Christian woke first. Lyra was wrapped up in a hammock like a butterfly in a cocoon. He sat up and looked around, finding a stack of fresh clothes folded right next to him. He grabbed the clothes and stepped outside and behind the tent to change. By the time he was finished, Lyra had roused and left her cocoon's embrace.

“Good morning, dear,” Lyra said sweetly.

“Good morning, ma’am,” Christian replied.

“We’re on to Fort Sterling today. Do you know what that is?”

“No, ma’am, I don’t.”

“Well, it’s the capital, hon. The capital of the Tejano Commonwealth, baby.”

“The Marshals.”

“Yes. The Marshals.”

The Brazos Marshals Corps, the Marshals, were the supreme lawmen in the Commonwealth. Their incredible success rate in facilitating justice and crushing the enemies of the state has been riddled with tales of gruesome violence and extreme lethality. The public opinion of the Marshals still reveres them as heroes of the frontier but also regards them as a cautionary tale against rebellion.

The troupe packed up and began the journey to Fort Sterling, only a dozen miles away. They’d arrive by mid-evening.

* * *​

The troupe left hours ago. They gave Christian a couple of cans of food, a gallon of water, and some golden rings and left. Gaslit streetlamps illuminated the stone brick paths of Fort Sterling.

“Hello?” a tired voice let out into the world. “Hello, is someone there?”

Christian turned. In a dark alley, a man sat with his back against the wall. A cloth was wrapped around his eyes. His clothes were dirty and ragged. On the one hand, he only had three fingers left. The other lay on the head of an old dog next to him.

“Hello?”

Christian walked over. He stood above the man for a second, but from the tension in the air, the man knew he had company. The dog hardly moved a muscle to shift its eyes toward Christian’s presence.

“Help me.”

Christian remained silent for a moment. Under the faint glow of the streetlamps, he could make out tears streaming down from underneath the man’s blindfold.

“Please help me.”

“How can I help?” Christian said.

“I am going to die. Please take him. Please take my friend,” The Blind Man said, stroking the old dog’s hair. “Please, or he will die, too.”

Christian stands still, but his heart is starting to beat through his chest.

“I don’t want anything. I want him to live. Will you help me, boy?”

Christian squeezed his eyes shut. He opened them and fixated on the dog. It had a matted chestnut coat that was dirty and graying. Its eyes were stained brown. Its face weathered by age. The old man began to kiss the dog on the head. The dog remained motionless.

“What’s his name?” Christian said, squatting next to the pair.

“Mann.”

“Excuse me?”

“His name is Mann. I call him Mann. That’s his name. Mann.”

Christian pets the dog, “Mann.”

“Will you take him?”

“Yes. I’ll take him,” Christian said, rubbing Mann’s face and scratching his head. Mann stirred a little. Christian could see the ribcage bulging through the thin layer of skin tightly wound around Mann’s body. His legs were skinny and bony.

“Thank you!... Thank you, thank you, thank you!” The Blind Man cried. He buried his face in Mann’s coat. “It’s gonna be okay, buddy. He’s going to take care of you. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more. I’m sorry I wasn’t more. I’m so sorry, buddy.”

Christian sat there. The Blind Man’s remorse weighed heavy on his heart. The man was losing his family. Christian felt the same burden on his soul as he ran away from his home as the Hellhogs pillaged and burned it. This must be what the man feels now.

“Go on, buddy, go with him. He’s going to take care of you.”

The dog rose to its legs shakily. The Blind Man buried his face in Mann and wept. Mann turned to The Blind Man and lapped his tongue on his face, letting The Blind Man hold him. Christian sunk into the floor. He would’ve tried to go deeper to avoid watching the pain but could not get past the stone bricks beneath his rear.

After a while, The Blind Man stopped crying. He ran out of tears. He relaxed against the wall and tilted his head toward the sky. “He likes scratches right under his chin. If you scratch his ear and belly, he’ll really have a good time.”

“I’ll do that,” said Christian.

Mann walked over to Christian and looked at him. The two stared at each other for a while, not daring to move. It was strange. Mann’s eyes were dark brown. Deep. Sunken into his skull from the age and life he had lived. Slightly cloud. Perhaps a cataract was forming. However, his eyes spoke to Christian. They were telling a story. They were dog’s eyes.

“God bless you, son,” The Blind Man said.

This simple phrase stunned Christian. God? The Lord? Christ, our Father? He thought.

“Are you of Christ?”

“Yes, my son. I have lived here forever. I have been Mann’s shepherd. He is the last of my congregation,” The Blind Man said.

A pastor?

“Do you preach the Lord’s gospel?”

“I did. The heretics burned down my church and took my eyes for ‘seeing a false god,’ they said. Mann ran from the fires and came back to me. He has been my shepherd since.”

“What will you do now?”

“Die. With you to shepherd Mann, I am free to die peacefully. I know that there is a paradise for me.”

“Are you not scared?”

“No, son. This is not a world you can be scared of. It never was, and it never will be. Now, please, let me make peace.”

“Yes, sir.”

Christian began to walk away, and Mann carried on beside him. As the distance increased between Christian and The Blind Man, he heard mutterings under The Blind Man’s breath. Mann looked up at Christian, who returned the stare.

“You’re going to be my best friend. We will live for him. In a world of hell, you are my angel, and I am yours. The Lord has made it so.”