Steam Machine - A dark AQW story

"In what universe can hate, desire, ambition, and rule exist? Ours. It's all in your hands, now."

Steam Machine

Our world is centered between three time periods: Age of the Mecha, Age of Kings, and Age of Lore. While Lore exists in all, the Age of Lore is the most expanded of the three. As the world changes slowly, the people have become to realize our place in life. While this can help "guide" those to seek sanctuary, and even become better people, some see this as an opening for power and absolute rule. This world, so fragile, is in a period of struggle. This struggle is what decides out future.

The stain-glass windows shattered, exploding into the air.
"Where's your hero, now?" taunted Gareth.
"Just kill me." Saran gasped. "What's the point of keeping me alive? To play with me? To disturb me? Please. You're a pathetic monster."
"Oh, right. But first, I want to play a game." Gareth grinned. "You get five seconds to answer a question, and if you don't, I beat you. Simple, right?"
Something clapped against the tile near the doorway. It was the familiar sound of footsteps. Gareth refused to let his body's instinct take over and let himself turn away. He would do all he could to keep his prey in his line of vision.
"Fat pigs and their little piggy games, eh?"
Gareth immediatly recognized the voice and turned to face this opposing being.
"I'll kill you!" Gareth's eyes widened after he had spoken. His body quickly sent the message to his brain to turn around---but it was too late. He looked down to find a large spike jutting out through his ribcage.
"You know," Jerald began to speak, "Letting your guard down is foolish. In any battle."
However, Jerald's advice had reached deaf ears: His opponent was long-gone from this world.
"Thank-you." Saran wailed, nearly crying.
"No. I've failed. I couldn't stop it before he came after you. I have to go." Jerald ran through a small hallway with an alternative exit. Just as he left the cathedral, the police entered.

-------Chapter 1
Behind

Jerald was near death in an ally in the poverty-stricken bureau, Jangaz, of Swordhaven. Blood was spewing out the artery in his arm out on the dirt poad, which now, soiled with blood, was damp. Behind the ruin-like buildings, Jerald could see the sun setting slowly. It was dying, just like himself.
"The Mind, Jerald, you cannot die here." The voice came out of nowhere. Suddenly, Jerald found himself in a dark sphere with vibrant, fading colors swirling around him. A girl stood only feet away from him. He knew this was the voice.
"Am I dead?" Jerald asked.
"No. You are simply in a state of being--and not being. In other words, you are frozen in time. You are here for your life to be saved. I am not usually one to mess with life an death, but this is different in your case. You are one of them; you are The Mind. You can do so many things with your body few even knew existed in this world. You can save the world, or--destroy it."
"I'm a 'chosen one' getting saved before death. How cliche." Jareth said, grinning, though he still was in a state of panic.
"Chosen? No. You were picked at random. The power inside your body flocked to the nearest source of life. That was you." All stayed silent for a moment. "In what universe can hate, desire, ambition, and rule exist? Ours. It's all in your hands, now." The sphere faded out slowly, and Jareth was back in the real word.

"Wake up, man."
"Huh? I was thinking about---the past, again." Jerald said slowly.
"Again. Again, again, and again. Man, sometimes you're boring." Seth said in a very casual manner. Like Jerald, Seth was sixteen. Seth slid on his helmet, and put one on Jerald, who was still in a daze. "We're going for a ride." Seth pulled Jerald on his steam-bike, and the two rode off into the sreets. Steam technology, the kind used in Seth's bike, was recently invented by the Dwakels. Ever since, it has been a major part of society. Nearly all machines ran on steam these days.
"The Mind." Jerald thought. This was his label, and Seth's was The Pyromancer. What did this mean?