Well, I wrote this last november for the NanoWrimo competition (the one where you had to write a novel in a month), but ended up ditching it as I had to go to India. Perhaps one day I'll finish this.....perhaps....
5th August 2026,
Novrya Zemlva Island.
Normally, few would have expected the small island to be so foggy on such a day as this, it being the middle of summer and all. Yet, strangely, against all the odds was a fog lying around the island’s shores, cliffs and the luscious green trees, pretty much reducing the range of view to around 10-20 meters at most.
It clung to the ground like moss, covering everything up to a certain height of around 10 meters. At this time, if one were to stand on the cliffs surrounding the beach and forest leading inwards, they would have seen nothing but a blanket of white with the trees poking out halfway, much like the cloud layer on the mountains.
The scene was peaceful, tranquil, with the silence almost deafening in some cases. Occasionally however, the tranquility was disturbed by the sound of distant gunfire. If one were to listen carefully from the beach next to one of the large cliffs, they would hear the roar of the ocean as the waves came in and out. Very frequently however, the roar of the ocean was overridden by that of even more gunfire.
If one were to listen closely through, they would recognize the sounds as that of several machine guns, along with sub-machine guns and rifles on full auto. Soon, the gunshots was accompanied by loud shouts and screams, all from a large group of people. Although one would not be able to see the people through the fog, they could definitely hear the random shouts of orders and reports coming back and forth from around a dozen people or so. The sounds were getting closer too, their obvious destination being the beach. Soon, the voices came into hearing range and from the view that we have, a face broke through the fog, followed by the neck, arms, torso, legs and backpack of a man in full run.
Judging from the person’s face and thick moustache, he appeared to be of British origin, something, which was confirmed by the flag patch on the right arm of his green and black army uniform. With a long tuft of hair sticking out from underneath a Kevlar helmet, it nearly touched a dirty pair of goggles covering his eyes and the top of his long nose. The rest of his face’s features were not very distinguishable, with exception of a square chin and strong cheeks, but it was clear that the expression what of a stressed one. The person’s eyes were focused entirely on the path in front of him, running non-stop towards the beach. This was rather surprising as the person was carrying a massive pack on his back, and judging from the antenna sticking out from one side; it appeared to be a signal set which could be used to communicate with anyone else via radio. He was holding onto a rifle with both hands, keeping it at the ready in case he needed it. The last noticable feature on his uniform was a small black tag with the word “THOMPSON” written on it directly above his right breast.
Thompson McCarthy kept on running till the ground under his boots shifted from the mud and dirt of the forest to the moist and yellow sand of the beach. He slowed down a bit, making sure not to loose his footing as he then came to a full stop. Panting and gasping from the exhaustion of running through the entire forest to get here.
Then Thompson realized why he was here. Quickly looking around, he put the rifle down to his left side before using both hands to get the signal set off his back and in front of him. The bag had a large zip in the front, secured on either side by Velcro fasteners. He opened it up completely to reveal a rather large panel along with what appeared to be a telephone. Pressing several keys on the panel, he held up the telephone to his ear, waiting for the ring tone to come through.
Damn encryption! What the hell is taking it so long?? Thompson though to himself as the modem automatically took over to continue the encryption process. Finally, it finished around 10 seconds later. Now the sounds of gunfire were even closer, and although he could not see it through the Fog, he knew that it was almost upon him. He was distracted from the gunfire however as a voice came through the other side.
“This is transport echo 5 Charlie to Fire team Hotel, do you read me? Over!”
Thompson did not waste a minute to reply.
“Roger that Echo 5 Charlie, we need IMMEDIATE pickup and recovery, on the double! Hostile forces are chasing out and we won’t last too much longer out here, over.”
“Roger that Fire team Hotel. We are inbound to your position; ETA is 05 minutes, so get ready to board. Command gave us clearance for TWO minutes of landing time before we have to embark, so make it quick! Over’
“Roger, we’ll be there! Just make sure to watch out for the mines! Fire team Hotel over and out.”
With that, Thompson closed the channel and started closing back the backpack. The sounds of gunfire were much, much closer now – almost at the forest edge itself. In fact, he could hear the footsteps of people running as well as the voice of the Platoon Sergeant, Sergeant O’ Malley, shouting orders to the rest of the company – or at least, what was left of it. Putting the backpack back on, he reached down to pick up the rifle with his left hand.
Then he heard it. What it was, was the signature whizzing sound of a bullet round slowing down as it flew through the air from long range. The bullet was still moving at several meters per second however, and it passed in the somewhat small 6 inches of space between his hand and his rifle, nearly scraping the skin off his left palm and then hitting the sand and dirt ahead of him, throwing it up into his face.
His first instinct was to roll to the side, getting into a prone position to minimize the body area presented to the enemy. The enemy could not see anyone due to the fog, but they could not see them either, and both sides were pretty much firing blind now. Unfortunately, the only machine guns on the entire island belonged to the people shooting at them now. More bullets came through; fortunately, most of them fell far short of Thompson or whizzed by above him.
Looking up, Thompson thought he could make out a pair of boots running through the fog towards him. He could hear the sound of someone running through the sand towards him. Then Thompson heard a voice shout out – he instinctively recognized it as Sergeant O’ Malley’s.
“Thompson! THOMPSON! Where are you Goddamnit! Answer me corporal!!”
The boots changed direction and ran to the side instead, O’ Malley was definitely looking for him, but was unable to see him while Thompson was in this position. He quickly shouted out “Over here, Over Here!” in an attempt to get the Sergeant’s attention. Moreover, it worked; O’ Malley’s footsteps immediately changed as he ran towards Thompson and crouched beside him.
Thompson looked into O’ Malley’s dark face. Covered with camouflage paint and blood, he was panting just as hard as Thompson was, and it was obvious he was very stressed. O’ Malley was the first to speak, shouting to be heard over the gunfire that was getting even closer. Thompson noticed several more footsteps running down the beach, probably looking for him and the Sergeant, or maybe even both.
“Did you call the transport in?”
Thompson replied in equal volume, if not more. The gunfire was deafening now, and the ocean was not helping either. He looked down at his watch…3 minutes to go.
“Aye! ETA 03 minutes! It will be here only for two minutes before leaving! We have to get further down the beach for it though!”
O’ Malley nodded and looked around. He picked up the small 2-way radio attached to his Standard Battle Outfit (SBO) and shouted several orders to the rest of the team. They would converge on this position and then run down to the beach together. Nobody was being left behind alive.
“All right people, MOVE MOVE MOVE!!!” he said, breaking off the radio communication. All around him, Thompson could hear the sound of people running and gunfire, all were converging on his position now. However, now the number of bullets flying about him had increased as well as the speed.
From directly in front of him, Thompson could see a figure run forward towards them. O’ Malley lifted up his rifle at the target, ready to fire. But then a second later he lowered it as the familiar spectacle-wearing face of Private Dill Randy, came into view. He was clearly exhausted from the running, but his face brightened up when he saw Thompson and O’Malley and ran towards them even faster. O’ Malley was the first to shout out to Randy, encouraging him onwards.
“Faster private, get your backside here before they - ”
O’ Malley never finished the sentence in time. Private Randy lurched forwards suddenly and without warning, crumpling in a heap not two yards in front of Thompson.
Oh God no! Hell NO!!
Thompson could not think of anything else. Without much thought, he lunged forward through the hail of bullets and covered the two yards within seconds. O’ Malley was right next to him. Randy’s face was directly in the sand and both Thompson and O’ Malley had to turn him over. He refused to believe that Randy was dead. Of all the people not Randy! Thompson swore to himself as he saw the full extent of the damage however: a bullet had clearly hit Randy and torn through his body, killing him instantly. Thompson could only think Oh God, oh God no this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening… as the full impact of what he saw hit him.
A voice interrupted his thoughts however, as O’ Malley brought his gun to fire and opened fire into the fog at their pursuers.
“He’s dead son, theirs no use wasting time over this. Unless we move now, we’ll be joining him soon enough!”
Before Thompson could reply however, another series of footsteps came in from his left. This time it was Private Samson, the last recruit left from the entire company. With a rather tall frame and well-built body, he had little trouble with all the running around, as was evidenced by the ease he had in sliding down to prone position alongside Thompson and O’ Malley. He quickly spoke,
“Sergeant! Everyone else is down; we’re pretty much the only ones left. They got O’ Sera and Jonathan, and god-knows where Randy ran off t-”
Then Samson saw Randy’s body in front of Thompson.
“Oh God…oh god no.”
O’ Malley didn’t waste any time. He quickly grabbed the dog tag off Randy’s neck and got up. Firing his rifle at the source of the enemy gunfire, he shouted to the rest, picking up Thompson to his feet by the backpack.
“No time to waste here people, move out NOW, GO GO GO!!”
Thompson didn’t waste any time. Instinct took over as all three ran down the beach towards the water. The transport would be there within one minute now, but it would only come in at around knee-depth water at least.
The sand under Thompson’s boots gave way to the water of the ocean in front of him. The waves weren’t very large or powerful, and only reached wait-high at most, so it was not much of a problem to wade in. As the group ran in, bullets hailed in from the beach, spilling into the water all around them. The enemy was close now, probably just 2-3 dozen meters away. The only thing that was helping them stay remotely safe was the fog, but even that was slowly starting to dissipate.
Then Thompson spotted something ahead of him – it appeared to be shiny and metallic, and was shaped similar to…a sea transport!! Oh God, they were going to make it out! Nothing could possibly stop them now!!
“There it is!! I see it, I see it!! WOHOO! We’re getting back home!!” Samson exclaimed from Thompson’s right hand side. He ran forwards as O’ Malley covered the rear with his rifle. Thompson didn’t have a weapon – it was still on the beach when the bullet had prevented him from doing much, so he could only run for it all the way. Samson stopped by a small outcrop however, and turned around to cover O’ Malley as he made his run towards them. Samson glanced over to Thompson before shouting at him.
“Go to the transport! Make sure they wait for us; we will be there on time! Go NOW!”
Thompson could only nod as he continued to wade through the water and move towards the transport – it was now just 10 Meters away from the outcrop. The familiar square design and ramp could have never looked better to him. The main ramp was open, and there was a crewmember on deck waiting at it, allowing him to go right up to it and then get a helping hand up onto the main deck. He then looked behind at O’ Malley and Samson. He could see all the way to the beach however, as the fog had finally lifted from the island, revealing their pursuers; all of whom were dressed in the traditional black and red jackets of the 5th Vladimir Infantry Division.
And all of them could see the two Soldiers running for the transport. O’ Malley and Samson were making a run for the transport, or at least, trying to in the knee-deep water. When Samson looked back, he was the first one to actually say out the thought in everyone’s mind.
“Holy fricking ****!! Run for it!”
If it was possible for a human to move faster in the water, Samson did it. Out of sheer desperation, he crossed the 10 meters to the boat in less than 9 seconds, quite an amazing feat to do it in water. Thompson had thrown back all his equipment and was lying on the ramp, his hand outstretched and waiting for Samson’s to reach his. Just two meteres now…..1 more….half more. He…was almost there….and as Samson’s hand reached his, Thompson could only think finally!
Then, to the shock and horror of Thompson, Samson’s hand jerked suddenly and overshot his, hitting the ramp and almost slapping him in the face. Samson’s body continued under inertia and collided with the ramp, slumping over it limply. Thompson looked up to his face, and saw only lifeless eyes in it. The body limply slid off the transport, turning the area around it red with blood. As it slipped off, Thompson tried to grab it and pull it up, but couldn’t get a proper grip, and was unable to prevent it from disappearing into the water beneath the transport. The only person left was O’ Malley, who was opening fire on the forces at the beach, forcing them to go for cover. He then turned around and continued running for the transport.
However, Thompson knew he would not – no, could not - make it. To his horror, he saw one of the soldiers on the beach with what looked like a large sniper rifle and scope. And he wasn’t hiding either, and was instead pointing it at O’ Malley.
Thompson looked back to O’ Malley, making eye contact with him. O’ Malley saw the expression in Thomson’s eyes; the horror, the truth. He didn’t have to turn back and see what was coming, simply by looking into Thompson’s eyes, he knew.
Rather than waste time running for it, O’ Malley simply nodded, took the dog tag from his neck, and the one from Randy, and threw it at Thompson. He then jumped to the side, diving for the water. At the same time, a loud bang issued forth from the shore and Thompson heard a loud scream come out of O’ Malley’s throat just before he hit the water and went under.
He never came up after that, leaving only a large patch of red blood on the vast, blue ocean.
Thompson simply didn’t stop staring at what happened. He just sat there in shock, unable to think, unable to move.
Fortunately for him, the crewman on deck was the first to react, pulling him away from the ramp and brining it back up. The transport then started moving away from the battle zone at top speed.
Lying on the deck to one side where the Seaman had left him, Thompson simply started at the wall in front of him, thinking about what had happened. He had lost everyone else in his squadron – virtually everyone in the entire Hotel Company, for that matter on that island....
But thank god…it’s finally over. At least, its over. Its done. At least I’m alive…
Thompson thought to himself. He was safe now, the transport would take him top speed to the nearest command carrier or base, so he should be over…hopefully Command wouldn’t throw him back into another battle zone……
However, he had a strange feeling this would be just one tiny part of a long, long nightmare…
10th August, 2026;
Outside of Paris, France; 5000 Meters above sea level
In the dark skies above Paris, few people or radar installations would have been able to spot the twin Sukhoi aircraft flying towards the sleeping city of Paris. Since the fuselage was completely black, the only way of noticing the craft was by the faint glows coming from inside the cockpit canopy, where both pilots were working. The faint silhouette of the craft was barely visible against the clouds below them, yet enough was visible to recognize the faint shadow of long wings and missiles underneath those wings. Although similar in configuration to the Russian-made Sukhoi craft of 30 years before, these were a fair bit larger and wider, not to mention appeared to be a lot faster too.
The clouds that were previously quite a distance below the aircraft suddenly grew larger as the planes descended slowly. The cloud shapes were ever shifting, with some of them being similar to a mushroom shape, and several storeys high. Any person who’d flown on any commercial flight recognized these clouds, covering a fair portion of the sky below the plane, much like mountains on an unearthly landscape.
The planes descended through this layer, shaking and rattling with the turbulence as they disappeared into the clouds, leaving behind them only the whirlpools in the fog to signify their passing.
When they finally broke free of the clouds, both craft moved slightly apart, and from below one would be able to see compartment doors open, revealing several cluster bombs tucked inside bay. If one were to look below at their targets, they would be able to see the Eiffel Tower in the distance ahead, and the bright main city below. What was most particular however was not the tower, or the city, but the source of the light that was bathing most of the city in an unnatural brightness similar to day itself: Fire.
Paris was Burning, and burning to hell and back.
Fires were prevalent over most of the city’s main cores, including the wreckage of what few skyscrapers used to exist, all of which were now mere rubble and debris. What few tall buildings were left standing had massive holes inside of them; it was a wonder that the Eiffel Tower sat there amongst the ruins, almost untouched by any of the chaos and inferno surrounding it.
The reason became clear a second later as several flashes and explosions erupted from all over the city. Flak guns opened up at the incoming fighters, the sound culminating into a deafening roar all over the city. The explosions nearly doubled as their high-density payloads exploded at about a kilometer up. But rather than spewing shrapnel, which would have totally useless against the jet fighters, the explosions forced out many pieces of Silver Foil all over the area.
Modern flak had come a long way since World War II. Where the older ones were used to shoot down enemy fighters, these blanketed the city with a radar-reflecting substance, protecting it from Laser guided and Radar guided missiles. It also proved a deterrent to low flying jet aircraft, due to the risk to the engine intake. But that was not the only thing that was being thrown into the air. Along with the projectiles that carried the foils up, dark missiles were also thrown – obviously by a different type of flak cannon, as they were quite large – into the air. These didn’t have any engines switched on, and were moving purely on inertia. After they cleared the layer of silver foil however, this changed.
If one were to look into the planes at this moment and be able to see behind the masks and goggles covering the pilot’s eyes, they would have seen nothing short of fear at the sight in front of them. This fear would have changed to sheer terror as the sky in front of them turned marginally brighter with the light of a hundred engines going off at once….and then each and every one of them moving towards the fighters at top speed. Although the foils did jam any missile going down to the city, it still did not prevent any radar contact from coming in clearly to anything above it, hence allowing for limited self-control of the missiles. These missiles now had a target, or rather, two targets that were just sitting ducks for them.
Rather than just sit around and get shot down however, both fighters banked 90 degrees to the left and right and turned off in either direction, pulling away from each other and throwing chaffs and flares all along the way. This managed to throw off some of the missiles from their trails. It was not enough however, as most of the missiles arched left and right to follow the course of the fighters, and more launched themselves from just above the silver layer, heading straight for them.
Following the plane to the right, one would not have very far to go, as one of the missiles managed to explode right next to the plane’s engines itself, throwing debris inside the flame-ridden exhaust nozzle. This slowed down the plane even more, allowing more missiles to close into it. Each explosion came closer and closer to the plane, till finally a missile impacted directly on the engines itself. The plane spun out of control, heading to the ground in a fast, deadly spiral. The missiles were relentless though, they followed all the plane all the way down, impacting on it and exploding continuously.
When the survivors in the city looked up at the silver layer blocking out the sky, they would be able to see something akin to a falling star from the sky, forever burning in flames that brightened the night’s sky. Explosions trailed it on the way down, creating even more of a fireworks display than before. But soon, it would it’s pilots would not be the only casualties of the conflict on that night.
Back up in the sky, the other plane was having slightly better luck. The pilot had made the right choice in timing when it came to his afterburners, and was now soaring ahead of most of the missiles. Straightening the plane and making it level with the ground, the pilot kept it steady and even. A few seconds later, he let loose a rain of cluster bombs on the city below, emptying the entire cargo bay one bomb by one bomb.
If one were to look at the city from the bomb bay of the fighter, they would be able to see something similar to what many World War II bomber veterans might have: a near-continuous waterfall of bombs dropping towards the ground below, shrinking away into the distance. If one looked carefully enough though, they would notice something strange. Directly in the middle of the cluster’s drop down, a flash appeared from the ground. It was small, barely visible from this altitude. Nothing happened till a few seconds later, when a second flash appeared, now directly below the craft. This time however, it didn’t fade away, and instead grew brighter. The light trailed the cluster bombs as they fell, climbing upwards right next to them, as if walking up a ladder.
The light came closer and closer to the bay, and finally, one would have been able to recognize it as a missile, and there was no way to dodge it.
As the last bomb released itself from the bomb bay, it dropped down, accelerating at 9.8 meters a second towards the ground. But in the moment after it was released, if one looked the 9.8 meters above it towards the plane, they would have seen something go into the Bomb Bay, just as the doors closed.
In the next second, 19.6 meters above the bomb, the entire plane bulged and rocked as it futilely attempted to contain the explosion inside. It didn’t last. Nothing could have.
29.4 Meters above the bomb, it exploded. Out of sheer luck – or perhaps fate? – not one bit of the shrapnel hit the last bomb as it continued it’s dive downwards. The nose tipped down, pointing to the ground below, which was now zooming up towards the bomb. Features that were simple two-dimensional squares and rectangles slowly changed, shifted to become three-dimensional buildings, trees and people. Soon, the bomb was close enough to make out smaller two-dimensional features, this time those of plants and smaller animals. Soon, the bomb was close enough to make out the brick-laden road it was going to hit. Then it was close enough for impact.
As it impacted on the ground, the bomb created a huge crater, throwing up the dust, sand and the bricks that made up the road into the air. One particular brick headed out at an almost 45-degree angle, flying over almost all the buildings surrounding – all of which burned in the fury of the explosion that the brick had just escaped.
The brick itself continued to fly in an arc, over small buildings, creeks, roads and even patches of fire. The brick turned downwards finally upon reaching the top of the arc, giving in to gravity and plummeting to the ground in an equal 45-degree angle.
A few seconds later, the brick hit the ground in front of a small two-storey yellow house, bouncing off the brick pavement at a low angle, pushing itself just far enough to knock against the dark red door.
If somebody knocks on a door, someone is bound to open it. And open it did. Looking from ground level, one would have been able to see only large, army boots peeking out from just around the door. The boots were still as the person obviously looked around, and then spotted the brick. If one were to look up, they would see a rather annoyed expression on Thompson McCarthy’s face. If one were to look carefully however, they would also see the slightest expression of relief as well.
Thompson closed the door, in turn closing off what light that had come into the small hallway from outside. The only source of light now was the small candle he held in his right hand, which cast flickering shadows all over the red carpet and walls. It was creepy in a sense, and scared the **** out of Thompson at times, especially when the flash of a bomb lightened up the room, following it up with a sharp explosion twice as loud as any thunder. It would only be a matter of time before this little house might become the target for another random bomb, and nothing would protect Thompson from it, unless he could get out soon.
But then, he was here to rest and recuperate before continuing the journey back. The house had provided perfect cover in which for him to hide. Being in an isolated corner of the city helped quite a bit too.
The candle flickered more as the wind picked up, plunging the room in and out of darkness out of random. Thompson exited the small hallway to emerge into a large dining/living area. The room was a few meters in diameter, with a large niche to the right of the hallway exit where family members could have gathered on or around the small black sofa to watch the T.V. or just chit-chat. The room was plunged back into darkness as Thompson moved past it to the main dining area. It had a large circular glass table in the middle and supported by a single stand in the centre, and was slightly wobbly, as Thompson had discovered earlier after trying to eat his ration on it. More candles lined the central table, at least bringing some brightness into the room. To the side was a cabinet with several dishes and photographs on it, right next to a rather dark doorway leading into the kitchen – which was totally pitch black when viewed from Thompson’s position. Moving closer would have been no use, as no source of light came in except maybe from a small window high above the sink.
However, Thompson walked pass this room, giving only a brief glance to the photo. He could not bear to think about the family that had lived here before; having being forced out their home just like that. He could not – no would not – bring himself to think about it….At least, not here….not now.
He continued on into another doorway, this time leading to a set of stairs and another door. The stairs were all carpeted and leading upwards, with wooden handrails to the right. On the knob at the start of the handrail stood a lone candle, half-burnt and flickering often with the wind. Thompson kept on moving into the doorway, not glancing up at the stairs, which were bathed with light from a window just as it turned upwards into the second storey. The light cast an eerie shadow onto the floor beneath, which in turned flickered as the conditions outside changed from near-total darkness, to as bright as day.
Thompson ignored it however, walking instead into a small room holding around a dozen cupboards, a small study table and a chair. This was the library of the main house, or so it seemed to Thompson. Either way, he had made it his temporary residence for the moment, leaving his backpack and radio set to one corner, whilst setting up a sleeping bag in the center of the room. But for now, Thompson was not in a mood to sleep. He moved over to the table, pushing the chair back and nearly collapsing into it. Looking forwards, he stared at the blank piece of paper and the pen in front of him. He was about to start when the knock had interrupted him, and now had to regain his train of thought.
He focused on the letter for a few minutes, thinking…thinking.
Finally, he slowly picked up the pen and put on the piece of paper. Thompson’s face took on a sad undercurrent as he started to write his letter.
I hope this letter makes it to you in one piece, and that you and your mom are safe at Grandma’s house right now, and if I’m not wrong, both of you should be safe there for a long time too.
I don’t know when I’m going to be back, but I think it’ll be soon, since my Command HQ might not want to keep me in, but that’s up to them, not me. If I’m not back soon, you’ll have to stay with Sarah and Grandma till I come back. Don’t be afraid of Grandma – she may seem a little bit scary, but she bakes the best cookies on this side of the planet, not to mention plays a mean game of checkers. I hope you’ll have a good time with her – make the best of this time if you can!
However, I don’t know if you’re old enough to actually understand this part yet, I’d better explain what happened to us, and pretty much everyone, so that at least when you’re older and this is the last thing left of me, you at least know what happened……consider it the last memoirs of a doomed man if you will. Although my chances of survival are pretty high, the way this world is going to hell and back right now, things can change at any moment. I hope the explaination I give is sufficient, and that at least you have something to remember of your farther, even if it’s nothing more than a few words and pictures. I wish I could have been there earlier, to see you grow up and graduate from primary school….oh God, how I wish I were there with you now. I’m sorry Clara – for not being there when I was supposed to, for not being with you like I promised – for everything I could never do for you.
Thompson stopped writing for a second, getting a grip on himself. He was almost weeping now, thinking of the family he had left behind. Calming down, Thompson picked up the pen and continued.
Guess I better stop that now. It does no use, but I still miss you and will forever regret never being a part of your life, assuming I don’t make it out. But rest assured, I’ll make it happen.
Now then….where to start? I guess the best option is in the beginning, 2020.
As you’ll probably read in most history books, 2020 was pretty much the most important year in the recent history of humanity. The reason was pretty much the fall of the US and the completion of the ISS. Nothing much happened after that of course, but the fall of the US made a huge impact on the rest of the world for sure. Economically, it was no longer capable of competing directly with the Asian Triade of Russia, China and India. Together, these three nations pretty much out-bid the US in everything, out fought it in everything and even out-witted them. It was a powerful alliance….when it had a common enemy to fight at least.
After the United States fell from it’s position as world leader (but not it’s position of power) in Economic and Military might, it became a downright fight between these three nations as to who was going to take over. But then, it ended up that all three took over together, despite the trouble. For the next three years, it pretty much stayed that way, except of course, for the build-up of nuclear stockpiles by all three.
The ISS completion was a milestone in Human history, after it’s completion, an entirely new laboratory in space was available, bigger than anything prior, and it soon became the base from which future missions would be launched. Of course, a second station was planned soon after; a station which not only would be more massive, but have the facilities to construct a vessel in space as well. But this is of little importance to what happened later.
By 2023, the triade had managed to secure their place at the top, holding onto the greatest power on the planet, as well as almost a third of humanity’s total population. But problems were already starting to appear. Corruption, which had previously been under control, was now rampant across the entire country. It was most notably present in India, where it was a notorious problem for almost a century there.
There is a saying – and don’t ever forget this dear – ‘With great power comes great responsibility.’ These three nations now had the greatest responsibility of them all – to move forwards the progress of humanity into a new era of life and prosperity…unfortunately; there is another saying that goes “Absolute power corrupts absolutely.” In this case, it was sadly true. Although all three nations were directly benefiting from being at the top, their people were still in the poorest of conditions – some of them even became worse when compared to what it used to be when so much money was not available. It is something we all regret, but I doubt we actually have a chance to reverse what happened, especially when the people finally got fed up.
Of course, when people get fed up…it leads to only one conclusion….revolution.
It’s not bad as it sounds – in fact, it all happened in a single day, no less. The leaders were all kicked out – and in some cases, executed – within 24 hours as thousands of people mobbed their homes and offices, overwhelming security forces out of sheer numbers. This, in itself, doesn’t seem to bad, but the fact of the matter was that the new leaders, although better at leading their own nations than the old ones, didn’t exactly get along too well with each other.
Constant bickering and arguing split up the previous triad pretty quickly, but fortunately no conflict arose.
Yet another vacuum was created; but now it was Europe’s turn to fill it up. The European Union (EU) had finally finished forming together and actually achieving unity in 2024. It then wielded the power of another third of humanity to bring against the east, along with hard, battle-experienced troops as well as the resources of over two dozen nations as opposed to just three. The EU also had the backing of the United States, which saw it as the only means of holding any power in the Asian continent and across the Atlantic.
I have memories of that time…a time when finally, after years of being out of power, the people emerged back out of the shadow. It seemed like everything was perfect for once. Everyone was happy and satisfied with their corners of life – not even any of the old triad leaders actually cared about the fact they had lost the lead position….
But such things never last. Slowly, but surely, they did get jealous. I don’t know what the leaders were planning on doing, all I know is that they planned it and did it. The old Triad of before was re-created to rival the new EU a year ago, in 2025. This new organization was significantly more aggressive and unified than the one of old, with it’s major target being the EU. This time however, the rampant corruption of before was almost neutralized by heavy control methods, all inspired by the structure adopted in Singapore and mainland china.
But the EU was not going to back down. Although they remained at peace, a major arms race was started by both sides; each feeling the other was much better armed than themselves. The possibility of a nuclear war was not out of the question, and a such, both nations have been concentrating on building up those stockpiles than anything else. This is where each nation would eventually suffer in the months to come.
Then we have what happened 5 days ago.
After months of futile peace attempts, painful attempts to try and work together, everyone was fed up. Things were at the breaking point and the signs were pointing to a single direction: war.
The reason was simple enough: there simply wasn’t enough pie to go around for everyone. As much as the triad and the EU wanted to avoid war, there was no way to get the resources required without it.