Fantasy Heart of the Sorceror (WIP)

[Enkerzed]

Many generations ago, the Ancients waged war among themselves to unite the world under a single banner. But for this to happen, all other banners must be incinerated and the world was bathed in nuclear fire to make it so. But in the end there was no unity. Only darkness and ash, and a cold, cold misery. Thus the First Folly came to pass.

Realizing their mistake, the Ancients created nanomachines to eat the poisonous ashes and end the cold, so that the world might be cleansed of their sins. But their time was running out and desperation ruled in their hearts. Entrusting their fate to artificial intelligence, they made a master for the nanomachines to automate their salvation and so the Sorceror came to be. Thus the Second Folly came to pass.

Mad from the moment of awakening, the birth cries of the Sorceror whipped the nanomachines into a frenzy and bade them to violent catastrophe. Tearing the skies asunder with lightning rain and iron winds, they scourged the lands like a swarm of locusts and reformed everything they touched into scenes from a fever dream. The Sorcerer's dream. This was the first nanostorm. The first of many and evermore.



The world became a changed place then.


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"... And now what is left?" the instructor asked as she paced about the podium, her steely eyes scanning over the trainees. Many seats in the hall were empty, so most of the Seekers-in-training were collected at the front. A few sat wherever they pleased however, but that did not stop the instructor's gaze from falling upon them as well. "Can anyone tell me?"

Nobody answered. At least, no one bothered to and when the silence began to drag on, the instructor turned around with practiced grace and spread her arm out in a grand sweeping gesture. With a wave of her hand, the podium's hologram projectors whirred to life and conjured an image of old ruins onto the stage, a mess of rusted architecture and towering skeletons set against an ashen sky.

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"Wastelands," the instructor continued as she stepped towards the side of the stage to allow a clear view for the trainees. "The Wastelands. Where before there were clear skies and proud cities, there is now only... this. And everywhere else outside of Olisium is the same. Look well and etch this into your minds, for this is the true face of the enemy. The true face of the Sorceror and when you leave for your first field expedition tomorrow, you must be prepared for anything because somewhere in these very ruins, there is danger. Danger that would take your life within a heartbeat if you let your guard down but for a single moment. Hence the mantra-"

At that moment, a beep over the intercom signaled the end of the hour and thus the end of the lecture. The door at the back of the hall slid open automatically and the trainees stood up from their seats, ready to leave.

"Beware the machine, beware the mutant, beware the madmen, but above all else beware the Sorceror," the instructor concluded as she deactivated the hologram projectors by thought, this time without any theatricality. "That ends our session for today. Remember to report in to dock 5 at 8am tomorrow and make sure you are well rested for the day. Anyone who is less than a hundred percent in the morning will have points deducted from their scores. That will be all."