Sign- Prologue

PROLOGUE

There was an “in-between” time once. A time when everybody swore the world was perfect, or as perfect as it could get. But even then, the world was swathed in lies.
The problem with the world, the Regulators said, was that people possessed the ability to think. And it was thinking that started all the trouble. Thinking led to selfish instincts, to jealousy, a desire to scavenge for one’s self and watch others suffer. It led to hatred, they said.
Negativity sprouts from the ability to stretch the contents of your mind onto a clean sheet of paper, marking your thoughts down, observing them, and striving to achieve ourselves.
This is what the adults repeat to us children at least fifty times a day; it’s what they repeat to themselves. It’s what the Regulators have told us. And what the Regulators tell us is ‘always right.’
But was it thinking that led to the war over the world’s scant resources? Fighting over food and water? It may have been.
I was born after the Third World War. From the mere information I gathered from nighttime ventures into the Closed Library (the name says it all) and “borrowed” a couple of books, let me just say that the Third Great War was the ugliest war this world has ever seen. You honestly don’t want to know how ugly. It wasn’t until the X-bomb was dropped by Cerulea on Actum that the war ended.
If you ever asked me what it would take to end a ten-year long war, my answer would be this:
Fifty billion lives.
That’s how many lives the X-bomb swept from the Earth. It’s a weapon of mass destruction. And when I say mass destruction, I mean it. Because it destroyed every single thing.
There wasn’t any rubble from destroyed buildings, no rocks or boulders, or fallen trees. There was just a fine powder, just ash. The impact generated as much heat as if a meteor had struck the area. It was the worst disaster in history.
Just thinking about it makes me feel like I’m drowning.
After the First War, regret overcame all other emotions. The League of Nations was born. People plastered fake smiles on their hard faces, gave out flowers and candy, handed out the detentions, and decided to make up and shake hands like good little children. ‘Hey, let’s stop another war from happening, alright?’ they said.
They failed miserably.
The Second War was worse than the last. After the bombing at Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the world opened its bleary little eyes. The people who managed to survive the Atomic Bomb suffered from radiation. They didn’t live long either. The United Nations took over the League and “tried their best to put a broken world together again.” But then again, the “best” always leads to the worst. There was a sort of peace then, just as the Regulators say there is now. But “peace” has a false meaning. “Peace” is actually a veil over the real horrors that we close our eyes to- and pretend that everything’s alright. Peace is a code-word for looming war. Peace is a non-existent hope to achieve the unachieved. “To live in harmony” is the supposed meaning of the word.
What. A. Lie.
Peace is nothing but a memory.
When the Third Great War broke out, the world was in a state worse than chaos. Ever wonder why it was called the Third Great War? It was the bloodiest, the longest, and the most divided. The world was divided into three sides. Those three sides fought against each other, fought to the very bone.
They were Cerulea, Actum and Tempus.
Cerulea was once known as “the Americas.” Actum was once “Africa.” Oceania joined forces with Actum, and Tempus was called “Eurasia.” Simply put, the effects of this war were disastrous. The entire patch of “Upper” Actum was wiped out. Unlike the events of Hiroshima and Nagasaki a century ago, there were no survivors.
NONE.
There was just bitterness and… a lingering feeling of what I would describe as remorse, probably. It was remorse so strong that people began to ask themselves why. Why do people fight? Is it worth fighting for anything if it causes this much pain? Apparently, the government was hit by a tidal wave of remorse too. The countries all agreed on Pax. They formed a group called the Memini. I think it’s Latin for “remember.” Why the heck anyone would want to remember all the tragedies this world has seen in the past two centuries is beyond me. Maybe it’s to remind us never to make the same mistakes again?
Rubbish.
Humanity insists on making the same mistakes over and over again. It’s strange, really; reminding ourselves to learn from the past is useless. We’re so caught up in analysing our Yesterdays that we forget not to make the same mistake when the time comes. We’re so caught up in “reminding” ourselves that we don’t notice our mistakes until the damage is done. It’s stupid.
The Memini agreed that the sole problem was humanity itself. It’s traits of selfishness; cruelty and desire were constantly warring against itself. To stop war, they decided, we needed to stop thinking.
Enter technology. Enter the blasted world of lab-rats and chemicals, of micro-processors and computer chips.
Enter Animus Refuto, the serum injected into children at birth. It turns them into living robots. They can smile, they can eat, and they can laugh their hard cardboard laughs. They have responsibilities and obligations, but they can’t feel anything. They’re emotionless shells. My parents were injected with that serum. They’re “happy” with the world. They’re happy with living the same life as everybody else in Tempus. They’re happy with leading a colourless life, without ambitions or dreams. They don’t question what we do. They don’t wonder what life is like in other countries besides ours. Here, in Tempus, everything - and everyone- is run by the Regulators. Here, nothing goes wrong. Everyone is “happy.” And being “happy” is a good thing, right?
Wrong.
I know there are times, better times, out of our reach. I know. I’m sure of it.
I can think for myself.
The serum never affected me.
They say I’m schizophrenic.
But oh, I am so much more.

~WILL - 2097