The Omen of Death
My presence has marked your eventual demise.
You can't remember when the world first started shaking, this little fragile patch of reality with so many cracks and such little support to keep it from breaking apart, but something was always going to give. It was just a matter of time. Nobody knew what really triggered the fall. Was it the breaking of the chains which kept your little quiet island floating in the sky all this time, imbued with the energy which kept it going for so long? Was it the final earthquake that split the lands of the humans, far below your precious little civilisation? Or was it something else?
It's easy to blame the humans who live beneath you, blame them for every little thing that goes wrong in the world. You're high enough to avoid the worst of the toxic gases that they leak into the atmosphere; you're smart enough to know not to drain the planet of what few resources remain to be cultivated; you're fast enough to hide yourself when they create a multitude of new dangers, unleashing terrors into the wild.
There is no war here, no government, no violence, no weapons or need to do anything but survive on your own and help each other out. The air is thinner here. Humans find it hard to breathe at this altitude without special equipment of their own. You pity them, but at the same time you admire them for being resourceful enough to create tools enabling them to come all the way up here. Then you remember what had to be sacrificed for such tools to be made, and you no longer admire them so much.
The island you've lived on for your entire life, along with your family and friends...is beginning to fall.
The wind howls in your ear as the island plummets towards the ground far, far below. No chains to keep you secure. No energy or power to keep you airborne, not anymore. Everything has been used up. This is where your home is, your village, your life; clusters of little grassy huts assembled in neat little circles, built to resist the strong winds of this height. Your people have long grown used to the lack of oxygen up here.
It isn't your home anymore.
You clutch onto the beautiful green grass covering the ground, grass which comes off in clumps in your hands. The air pressure is affecting the land and you watch in mounting horror as pieces of your home are savagely torn away from one another. You're not the only one, either; dozens of people are desperately trying to keep their houses secure before they too are ripped asunder. A doomed effort, because the gravitational pull is tremendous.
You do not see your parents anywhere. You fear they may have been dragged over the edge to their deaths, like so many others. This settlement is not equipped with appropriate equipment to land upon the human-inhabited grounds, thousands of metres below. Nobody would think to do anything like that.
The roar of the wind grows louder and louder in your ears, and the pressure on your body forces you into a narrow crawl. You cannot even raise your head, at the speed you are falling. Cracks appear in the ground around you, and you realize that this is no longer a case of keeping the island secure. The settlement is already done for. It will not survive.
1. Crawl towards the ruins of your house nearby
2. Call out to your neighbours for aid
3. Inch your way towards one of the few houses still standing
4. Maintain your current position and hold on for dear life
It's easy to blame the humans who live beneath you, blame them for every little thing that goes wrong in the world. You're high enough to avoid the worst of the toxic gases that they leak into the atmosphere; you're smart enough to know not to drain the planet of what few resources remain to be cultivated; you're fast enough to hide yourself when they create a multitude of new dangers, unleashing terrors into the wild.
There is no war here, no government, no violence, no weapons or need to do anything but survive on your own and help each other out. The air is thinner here. Humans find it hard to breathe at this altitude without special equipment of their own. You pity them, but at the same time you admire them for being resourceful enough to create tools enabling them to come all the way up here. Then you remember what had to be sacrificed for such tools to be made, and you no longer admire them so much.
The island you've lived on for your entire life, along with your family and friends...is beginning to fall.
The wind howls in your ear as the island plummets towards the ground far, far below. No chains to keep you secure. No energy or power to keep you airborne, not anymore. Everything has been used up. This is where your home is, your village, your life; clusters of little grassy huts assembled in neat little circles, built to resist the strong winds of this height. Your people have long grown used to the lack of oxygen up here.
It isn't your home anymore.
You clutch onto the beautiful green grass covering the ground, grass which comes off in clumps in your hands. The air pressure is affecting the land and you watch in mounting horror as pieces of your home are savagely torn away from one another. You're not the only one, either; dozens of people are desperately trying to keep their houses secure before they too are ripped asunder. A doomed effort, because the gravitational pull is tremendous.
You do not see your parents anywhere. You fear they may have been dragged over the edge to their deaths, like so many others. This settlement is not equipped with appropriate equipment to land upon the human-inhabited grounds, thousands of metres below. Nobody would think to do anything like that.
The roar of the wind grows louder and louder in your ears, and the pressure on your body forces you into a narrow crawl. You cannot even raise your head, at the speed you are falling. Cracks appear in the ground around you, and you realize that this is no longer a case of keeping the island secure. The settlement is already done for. It will not survive.
1. Crawl towards the ruins of your house nearby
2. Call out to your neighbours for aid
3. Inch your way towards one of the few houses still standing
4. Maintain your current position and hold on for dear life