The Wasteland
John walked through the snow with his hands buried in his pockets, squinting into the early morning light. He had left the road at an exit he hadn't seen in years and driven down along, winding road lined with empty rocks and caves. The snow was falling more and more heavy, the air turning frosty and biting. John quickened his pace, starting to shiver. The sun was getting higher by the minute and the top of the mountain was going to get very hot.
The snow was getting deeper and he finally reached the base of the mountain, seeing the ground change into a complex network of rocks. He had to walk around the mountain, seeing the top covered with grey clouds. He hoped to find an opening to jump into. A place that had best not been discovered by anyone before.
The ground turned into a steep slope and he had to climb his way to the top, finding himself covered with snow. The rocks ahead were now blackened with ash and his whole body was covered with a fine layer of dust.
When he reached the base of the mountain, he saw an entrance in the distance. It was almost completely covered by the snow, looking like nothing more than one more rock. He crawled towards it, brushing the snow away and uncovering the opening. He put his feet in, feeling the ground tilting so he slid through the opening and into the darkness.
As he felt the ground tilted further and further, he reached for the ground with his hands and slid towards the opening. He rolled into the darkness, finding himself falling down a hill. He tumbled down, smashing into the rocks and sliding down the valley, leaving a trail of dust behind him. He rammed into a wall and he bounced back, feeling something sharp pierce his shoulder. He bounced a few more times down the hill, coming to a stop when he fell into a pile of sand.
John looked up, groaning as he wiped the dust off his face. The sun was high in the sky, beating down onto him. He looked around, finding himself inside a small, narrow canyon. The walls were covered with cracks and crevices and the ground was a mix of rocks and snow. He slowly stood up, feeling a sharp pain in his shoulder where he had been impaled by a rock. He looked around, trying to get his bearings. John had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there.
John grimaced as he touched his shoulder, trying frantically to remember how he had gotten to this strange place. Suddenly, he had a vivid flashback to the moment he had rolled down the hill and into the canyon. He remembered the sharp pain in his shoulder, the cold rocks and the snow, and the strange darkness that surrounded him.
He shook his head and looked around again, trying to process what had happened. He knew he had found his place. Exhausted but relieved, he sank into deep meditation.
For many years he lived there, along the northern peninsula, where snow trailed into the sea. He banished himself here to wait for the end of the world, and he camped out in an abandoned lodge. But something changed his mind and turned him around.
One day, as he was hiking through the mountains, he heard a distant rumble of thunder. Curious, he stopped to listen, straining his ears. The rumble grew louder as he looked up at the sky, searching for the source of the noise. His heart pounded in his chest as he saw a massive, dark cloud towering over the mountains, its edges trailing sparks of lightning.
As he watched, the cloud began to descend, its edges billowing towards him. John felt a surge of relief. He realized the truth of human life in that moment. Despite the chaos and destruction around him, he knew that there was beauty and wonder in the world, and that he was blessed to be alive to experience it.
With newfound clarity, John reached deep into himself, focusing on his inner strength and resilience. He stood tall and strong, facing the storm as it descended towards him. With a calm, confident mind, he accepted the inevitable, knowing that he would emerge stronger and wiser from this experience. He fell into deep meditation. In his mind's eye he saw the consequences of his actions and realized that he could have avoided this fate if only he had made better choices in the past. There was a world without fear and hate, where there was only beauty and love. And he knew that this was possible, for him and for everyone.
As the storm finally reached him, John felt its power and energy coursing through his body. He welcomed it because he knew it was part of the journey that would lead him to a better future. And in that moment, he found peace - a piece of his soul that had been missing for years.
Every morning he opened his eyes, emerging from the depths of meditative contemplation, and his heart was filled with joy. He smiled, knowing that despite all the pain and suffering in life, there was a liberation. There was a light that could be reached, if we only tried. And he was determined to keep moving, towards that light, towards the only truth that mattered - the truth of the eternal spirit.
And so, John continued on his journey, living each day with strength and determination, knowing that he was on the right path, and that he would find truth.
In the end, John realized that he would never find the perfect answer to the mysteries of life, but that was ok. He had found his peace and it was enough. At least for another 25 years.
John whispered to himself, "Fortunate me - I'm no longer playing the Game. I simply had to let it go."
John now looked stooped and thin; his face lined with the weight of years. His hair was thin and white, and he moved slowly, his steps heavy and labored. His eyes were tired, but they hold a quiet wisdom, a deep understanding of the world around him. The valley stretched out before John, its endless curves and slopes broken up only by the occasional rocks or rivulet of water. As he walked, he noticed a large rock jutting out from the ground, beckoning him to sit and rest. And so, he made his way to the rock and slowly but surely shuffled over. With a sigh of relief, John sat down and closed his eyes, taking in the peace and quiet of the valley.
He was lying curled up beneath the large rock, its shadow casting over his small, vulnerable form. His body was still and motionless, his breath coming in rapid gasps as he waited for nothing more. Calm and relaxed, his eyes gazed up at the starry sky, trying to catch a glimpse of one last familiar shape before he closes his eyes for the last time.
A noise could be heard in the distance. The sound of marching feet grew louder, and through the dirt and rocks he could see a line of seven soldiers approaching. They marched directly toward him but didn’t see him. He watched them pass, his vision growing dimmer and dimmer as his heart began to beat.
The soldiers were clad in heavy armor, their chests and limbs protected and their faces hidden behind helmets. They carried rifles and other weaponry, their hands trained and ready to strike at a moment's notice. The soldiers moved in sync, their feet pounding the rocky ground with grim purpose. They were focused on their mission, determined to carry out the orders of their masters without hesitation. John recognized the crest of house Quantum Dawn emblazoned on their armbands, a symbol that brought to mind years of hardship and struggle under the strict rule of this powerful family. As he watched them pass by, he felt a sense of dread creeping into his heart. Because he knew that when those soldiers realized he was there, his fate would be sealed - he would be taken away and killed for daring to stand up to the harsh regime.
As the soldiers drew closer, John stared in shock and amazement to realize that one of them bore the same birthmark on his hand as he did - a triangular mark that seemed to stand out against the rest of his skin. His heart racing, he realized that this soldier was his son, a child he never knew about.
But as the realization seeped in, John also knew that his time had come. With a heavy heart, he accepted his fate, knowing that there was nothing he could do to escape the terrible destiny that awaited him. His hopes and dreams extinguished in an instant.
It seemed that the soldiers would somehow disintegrate and disappear. John noticed that a grey, wet mist was covering the land. And the fog grew thicker and thicker until he could no longer see the soldiers.
But as he lay there, unmoving and alone, John felt a strange sense of peace washing over him. He knew that his life had meaning and that it had not been in vain. He felt greeted by the spirits of his ancestors, who welcomed him with open arms and a warm, loving embrace.