"A land of sewers and rot, the world of the mutant was uncharacteristic, indeed. No one had seen it coming, as life had simply wasted away. The people, once fair and desirable, were now an undulating horde of grotesque monsters, evil and piggish, with their anonymity decided. The wasteland was filled with hate, but the mutants did trudge by, anxious for their next gluttonous affair. There were so many problems. The world around them did starve away, fools carried not their tr

"And they just rearrange it like that, the controllers do. Wrinkle time and space right back together. And people never know what hit them. That's how it is in the Matrix. Things aren't always what they seem. There's a government out there, a government they're not telling you about. They control things, they know things, they have technology you can't imagine.   But it happens. And it's real. I knew a super-soldier in the Matrix not long ago. Supposed to be a chosen one, or

"A note was found in the wasteland: ' Beware. This endeavor is full of fear, and contentment. Though you walk through the shadows and the mire, your surroundings will reveal to you a truth in full. But you must look closely. Those around you will not know such things and will balk and shame at your very inspection. But worry not. This is not about them. This is about the land you are, and you are from. Welcome to the wasteland. At first, you will not notice such things. Your

"David Mirokin put his toe up to the line. 'Forty love.' The chair umpire called out the score in monotone, the crowd growing silent as Mirokin prepared to serve. The U.S. Open second round was underway, and this was the third set in a five-set match. David came in seeded eighth in the tournament, and was favored to win the match, especially after taking the first two sets 6-2, 6-2. Standing six-foot-eight with an athlete's build, David Mirokin was no slouch to look at. His i

" Sophocles held up a tablet and issued a stern warning to his people. The times were harsh and of chaos, and something needed to be done. He spoke loudly and bravely, yelling over a crowd of his colleagues and allies. 'To concoct a giant machine, a machine of slavery, and call it the world. This was their dream. To refuse nature, and the man within it, in favor of a world of wires, and steel, and beams, and machines. A world from which no man could escape. This was their dre

"An evil robot sits in an apartment, studying himself and his surroundings. The walls are bleak, the light is grayish and dull outside. A refrigerator hums gently in the kitchen, as the flicker of a television is the only distraction from his bare living quarters. The robot sits on the couch, paint peeling off the walls, and consents to immerse himself in the television's static glow. Snorting in discontent, he changes through the few barely visible channels on the television

" A curator walks into a room full of people and gives them a strange speech. 'Welcome. To the Museum of Life. Everything you see here is real, and everything is set in stone-cold fact. Every exhibit has its cure, every case has its life in it. Then, you will realize it. That all reality is this museum, and all reality works this same way. Come with me, as we explore deeper into what awaits us here in the Museum of Life. You see them. The cavemen, the narwhals, standing stoli

"I'm just driving. And thinking... There's a thought for you. There's a thing out there, a thing you have, a thing that helps you think. Only some people have them. It goes on and on. The symmetry, the flashing lights, out here on the road. That's when you see them. It's dusky. The cars drive by, one by one, and you see them go by. But there's something wrong. There's not a thought, not a feeling, just a strange buzzing. And things go on. But you notice. And you surely do. I

"It was an ethereal realm, one of mists and forests and enchanted trees. Many came along there, but no one stayed long, as the rasps and rumors of the forest were too strong to bear. There was an inkling, a glinting danger of the forest, that no one could ignore. It was the men, the men who stayed in the forest, who bewitched and slanted anyone who came near it. These were the men, the men of Hollywood. Many an angel came near, listening to their whispers and sighs as the men

"It was a stone tablet. Strange, with alien markings all over it. But it held great power. Justin Thurman couldn't figure it out. It was as if glancing at them was a new world, brought in a great consciousness that overwhelmed the mind. He took one more look, then left the desert cave to rejoin the others. Martha noticed him walking back. 'Still the same?' she inquired. Justin shook his head, exhausted, and let out a low moan. 'I guess. That same strange feeling is still ther

"The situation was getting intense. The 'cattle', or lower beings of reality, were catching on, had sentient awareness, from the government program, Scient, being released accidentally. Panic and mayhem were everywhere, as the new minds, the glorified slugs, of the cattle were taking hold. Secrets were out, top secret information from all over the world now pouring into the mesosphere of the lower beings. Arnold Devereaux sat and thought, deep in an underground government lab

"Trick Harris stared around him. The spaceship, the S.S. Emancipator, was jolting, bouncing violently from side to side, as he tried to regain his balance. The darkness had struck, a black shadow exploding from earth that had torn through outer space like a massive, dark, tidal-wave. It had hit everything, even their bodies slammed by this horrible energy, as the spaceship orbiting Earth tried to regain its composure. The crew looked at their hands in disbelief. Something was

"Arnold Palmer slumped in his office chair. The sun was shining outside of his office window on a bright Washington, D.C. morning. Outside, the capitol building lawn shimmered evenly in the sun. Arnold looked out briefly, then back at his computer screen as he sighed thoughtfully. Today was the big day. He had a meeting set up with Omnicorp, a technology company that specialized in microchips. They were working out a deal to protect Omnicorp's interests on the west coast, and

"They were marked everywhere. Little water labels, showing how high the level of the water was. But they were on bottles. You had to wonder what was wrong with this world. Narn Klunkin looked about. A sad clutter, a diminished little greeting, waiting for him as he arrived at his home. His cave was high, a little on the smaller side, but marred not by the outside aesthetics of obsessiveness and purity. He collapsed into a reedy little armchair and pondered his thoughts. His e

"The dingey creak emanated through the empty hallways. Elfonse shook his head at it, oblivious of the source of the noise. The dust swirled around him as he brushed his mop up and down the corridor, trying to finish his days chores. Outside, light was casting into an otherwise empty laboratory for clinical research. The cogs zoomed by. They traveled past the dusty laboratory, perfectly in fashion with the road around them. They carried other workers and automatons, just like

"'All under him will be cast to his aspersions, and as he rises his might, none above him shall triumph.' Van Pyre looked down at the parchment. It was an old writing, but it made sense. 'A prophecy. That's clear. But who's the person being referenced?' Van muttered rapidly, as if clearing himself of the words. 'Random garbage.' Alina rolled her eyes playfully at him. The two were inside a study, an ancient rock cavern, torn out of the Earth long ago to make way for a vampire

"Matthew Stone rolled down the window on his Honda Civic. A homeless woman commissioned him, beckoning him as she came over to his car. She inquired as to his well-being, nodded happily for the dollar and a cigarette, and returned to her position by the road. Not a word, and he noticed it immediately. He drove on, unaware of his whereabouts, skeptical of the passersby as he reckoned his situation. Who was he in this town?   He had come around career success on a television sh

"They were breaking down. These things. Apparently, they just kept coming to the same conclusion. Must go on. They terrorized, mainly during the daytime, like day walkers, or zombies. Crowding the roads, shopping centers, restaurants, anywhere they could get a good eye at people. They did anything they wanted to. Not really people anymore, they tried to act human and appear normal in society. For the few who remained. The change must have happened a long time ago, as there wa

"Pavlov rung his bell. The dogs approached, wretched and scurrilous, after a hard day of not being fed. Nothing occurred to Pavlov, nothing except feed the animals. He passed out the scraps, one by one, careful to avoid giving the good meat or larger pieces than normal. It had been a good project. Wreckless things had happened, but the research team had been satisfied with the statistics and results. There wasn't much left to do but coach the dogs a little more aggressively.

"The war had gone badly. It was desolation, a harsh, mechanical streak crowding the skyline. The war-torn areas were all sad and burned, and a holocaust of the unimaginable had happened. The corporations had invaded America secretly, keeping low to the ground as they had infiltrated every stratus of the American government, every last part of American life, every patch of American soil stained. There was nothing left. A few had resisted. The elite military of the United State