Warm as Ice: Prologue, Remembered.

Warm as Ice: Prologue. Remembered.

July 20th 2198,

I still remember, old that I am, the day when we ran from our homes. I was a little lad then, only eight, of course everyone seems young to me now but I fear that I will not out last them all for much longer. That is why I write what happened so everyone else can remember what they have forgot. At 134 no one else is alive to remember, those that are young now have forgotten what their parents and their parent parents have told them. People like me have descended into legend or even myth. They shook of the truth of another land even though we told them. Although I can't blame them, from a person who lives here perspective it's all just sea and ice from here.

Maybe it is best though that they forget the hate, that we continue our simple lives in the depths of Antarctica. I mean what will returning with a vengeance do? Nothing, even I know that, and I have reason more than anyone to hate them for what they have done. That I will come to.

I am just an old man now, yes an old man who is mayor of this town. But this town cannot stop the Fireflys. Our domed walls and the natural barrier of the sea has stopped the toughest of the elements; Antarctica, but it will not stop them. We will break faster than my crippled leg.

Here I start my records of the day when it happened, maybe some day when we're long gone someone will overthrow them, for better or for worse I do not know. Maybe we'll be remembered in history books for the children at schools. Maybe we'll be blown away into the harsh winds outside of the dome. Only time will tell.

July 20th 2064,

I woke with a blurry vision and a pain in my forehead. I felt... dizzy, disorientated. I heard alarms from unseen cars and screams from invisible phantoms whizzing round. I thought I was dead, it seemed too abstract and opaque to be as clear and crisp as reality. Eventually I regained my vision. I was in a car. My dad's car. My dad's crashed car. I was lying slumped forward, held in place by a seatbelt and a paper white airbag inflated proudly in front of me.

The car itself was turned to the right of the road, smashed into a concrete pillar supporting another building causing the hood to scrunch up like a used tissue. The alarm from the car was still blaring it's incessant cry. Next to me I could make out my Dad, just. My head was still throbbing and my vision red. He was recovering just like me; his forehead bloodied with glass and his arms bruised. He was still alive and was regaining consciousness slowly but surely.

His eyes defog and he looked at me first relaxed, then panicked as he remembered where we were.

"You ok?" He asked panickly. I nodded and he rested his hands on his forehead as if to catch his breath. "We gotta get out of here!" He exclaimed.

"What's happening Dad? What's going on?" I asked him.

Before he could answer a loud and terrifying whistle sounded out from the sky; my Dad stopped talking to look out the back of the car confused.

"Oh shit..." He cursed.

The whistle still emanated though getting louder and more piercing, it was ringing in my ears like a seashell cupped to my ear like what we used to do at the seaside. We both froze on the spot when we should have tried to run, we were too confused of what was going on.

Suddenly, a dense, metal object shot down from the sky seemingly a bolt of lightning as from it's glowing intensity and speed. It shot past in the blink of the eye and sucked into the ground. I watched as the ground around it kicks up and cracks from the point where it hit; the shockwave, I realised, was about to hit us. I realised to late and my whole world flipped and spinned around.

The glass in the car freezed in mid air, like tiny diamonds about shred someone. The dust swirled in all directions, seemingly confused about the destruction as we were. We screamed as we were tossed into the air at mercy to our attackers. The car hit the ground with a tearing crunch, things burnt, phantoms shifted and screamed and all went dark.

When I awoke the world is upside down. The car was a burnt shell of what it was; glass littering the floor and studding my face with little prickets of pain. My whole body felt achy, tired and numb but my right leg is especially numb, I couldn't move it. I could still hear the faint screams and footsteps of people running away but now it was now accompanied with the crackle and spitting of gunfire and the whirl of planes and helicopters

What's going on? It sounds like an invasion of some sorts? But who?

I heard groaning from above me; with a horrible realisation I knew that that thing was going to cause the building above me to collapse on top of me. I started to panic, my breathing intensified and with it my pain. The building emanated another groan and thousands of bits of glass and paper flew out of the windows as it tilted slightly towards me, as if taunting me. The glass pinged of the car shell like hailstones on an attic window.

I tried to call for help but my calls were quickly drowned within the sea of terror coming from outside. There were too many people, and they were all trying to help themselves at the moment.

Or so I thought. As I accepted my so-called imminent death I heard shouts from outside.

Maybe I'm already dead? Who could know I was down here?

"He's over there! Come on guys! Lift!" A large voice said from outside my metal coffin.

I felt the pressure on my whole body lifting in one big relief. I was free. Strong hands pulled me up and held me in their arms. I scanned the row of faces tiredly in search of my Dad. He wasn't there.

Why? Why isn't he there?

"Just stay with us son, you'll be alright. We're heading to the boats." The man who was holding me said.

I shook my head, still unable to speak.

"Is that them all?" Asked a younger man.

The man gave a quick affirmative of the head "I think so, or at least all that we can take." He replied.

I tried to tell them Dad was still back there but it came out as a disorientated mumble and a tiny flop of the head. I stared at the ground sadly. He was dead. Why was I denying it? My whole life was dead I thought. These attackers have wrecked it all! Even the concrete road built to withstand hundreds of years of heavy traffic have crumpled and burnt to a pitiful state.

The man who held me nodded, "Let's get going, this kid isn't looking all that good and the ship may leave without us."

There was a pause then, "They won't leave, they need you Dan." Another guy said.

The streets were desolate of screams now; I assumed that it was because they had all left or were dead. I could still here the constant stream of missiles and gunfire, getting closer now. Dead bodies litter the streets, charred or ravaged with blood. Building sparkling and new a few days ago then, now reduced to slumped over piles of burning rubble. Why did this happen though?

I lifted my head groggily, my vision and senses were still recovering and with them, the pain. Ahead, I saw a dirty truck although still operational and, most importantly, not on fire. When they got to it, they laid me down on the back of it, the uncomfortable metal sends spikes of ice down my spine re-enhancing the pain. I groaned but at least now I get a good view of what is attacking. I see helicopters and planes droning across the sky killing at will; they are equipped with a range of weapons from missiles to bombs. It's almost a continuous stream of rockets and gun fire in some cases which provided a steady beat in that apocalyptic song.

I knew not who had done this until then but I saw as clearly as polished glass on that day who had done this because painted as obviously as mud on a white wall on the side of the biggest ship of all.

Was a firefly. The fireflies were here.