Act I, Part 1

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There was a cool wind which seethed between derelict buildings. It prepped a small woman with a sweeping chill that creeped all across her skin, and she instinctively took her own shoulders and shook her body profusely. “Fuck,” she exhaled the word, and quickly ducked into a nearby store front.

    The store had been seared by a profuse fire years ago, and still held a reminiscent hue of char around the edges of the entrance. The rest had been swallowed by nature, returning to its original state as best it could.

    The woman’s thick boots clacked around remnants of broken glass, scattered and rotting wood, and the occasional corpse of a small mammal or two. This was Iunnet (yuh-net), who was a person of the Scholar Program. Indeed, these Scholars are distinguished members of the Yetinaph societies, and would explore what they referred to as the Overworld -- the world above their subterranean cities.

    Iunnet had been released topside for nearly three months now, having experienced many of the hardships of the Overworld. The Selahtkian region of the world was certainly not submissive, and meager in rich data which to send to her home city of Myrddin.

    Here and now, Iunnet sits in the back office of a long gone business. Each cabinet in the room was swung wide open, and she simply took her refuge on a nearby office chair, perhaps the most comfortable accommodation she’s had for a week. In a loud exhale, she leaned her head back and instinctively shook some more from the cold. The sun was nearly down at this hour, and Iunnet had not figured a means of shelter besides this particular setting. The wind was cutting and invasive, and even in this robust structure it still managed to find its way through the narrow corridors and broken windows.

    Iunnet took this idle time to jot things down in her journal:

    Today was the first day I saw one of them: a Mediator. I had known they existed since my arrival on the Overworld, but hadn’t believed it enough to expect to see one. They are, as what has been truly suggested, perhaps one of the most unique pieces of technology I have ever laid witness to.

    My interaction with this Mediator was short but sweet. I had never seen any all-kind act with such direct kindness, yet I was experiencing it from within a machine. It was robust, however, and when I approached it, it pointed weapons at me. Unsure of what to do, I simply stayed still and put my hands up, from which the Mediator quickly approached me. Expecting to be kidnapped or killed, it instead revealed a compartment within its torso with a sealed and packaged meal, and muttered these words to me in surreal, anthropomorphic tone:
    “Enjoy life, and show kindness unto others.”

    At the time, I had not thought much of it out of pure adrenaline in the face of uncertainty. I took the meal and ran, and it did not follow. Now late in the day, I take part in this meal, and think about the initiatives of those androids -- and their creators, the Humans.
    Iunnet’s interaction with this Mediator laid the foundation for the identity of the extraterrestrials known as the Third Humanity; for, they produced immaculate designs of unmatched technology, and showed reverence to those who called Ciphrus home. 

    Iunnet finished her thought on paper, and then her meal, and eventually her sleep. In the next morning, she packed up her ratchet camp and continued to the east -- towards a settlement called the A.R.D.

Her path continued for half the day, but the gnawing feeling of something creeping her trail was continuously surfacing. Eventually, the feeling was far too strong, and so she devised a simple ambush in the treeline of an old, abandoned interstate highway. The sun was far too strong overhead to conceal any movement away from the crown of the forest.

    A strong gust of wind blew by, and at the blink of an eye, a hooded individual stood strong in the center of the highway, atop the husk of a long-deserted vehicle. A yellow mist hovered around them as they stared ahead to the east, straight down the road. Iunnet held her breath in anticipation, having climbed up a nearby tree to collect a better gander.

    The leaves and other debris had started to orbit around this individual at an ever-increasing rate, and as they hopped down from the vehicle, Iunnet took her chance with the shaky aim of her revolver at hand. A shot fired and nicked the asphalt just to the stranger’s right foot, ricocheting with a loud ping! The stranger stood, unopposed, and simply turned their head towards the direction of the shot.

    Iunnet shouted: “That was a warning shot!” she bluffed, “now get the fuck out of here!”

    The stranger, instead, started to slowly stroll towards the voice, and Iunnet’s revolver popped another round straight at them. This time, the bullet had landed directly over the stranger’s left cheek, and they recoiled back as though they had just taken a serious punch. Holding what seemed like their own injury, Iunnet dropped from the tree and approached closer. “Get the fuck out of here!” she shouted in a collective of fear and anger.

    The stranger recovered, and from here, Iunnet could hear the loud hiss of a breathing apparatus which emanated from beneath the stranger’s hood. There, the stranger revealed the projectile within their palm, and a pair of red eyes pierced through the ambiguity of their dark hood, and straight into Iunnet’s eyes.

    There, the eyes vanished into the darkness, and a feminine voice revealed its presence to Iunnet.

    “A Scholar on the surface has no quarrel within a warzone. Expect bigger dangers ahead,” they told Iunnet, then pointed to the east. “There are Federal tanks just up ahead. They’ve been sitting there off of SB-11 for some time.”
    Iunnet was stunned, both by the inability for such a weapon to affect this individual, but doubly so that this stranger was now in complete control of the situation. If they wanted, they could end Iunnet’s life in a second.

    Iunnet glanced towards the east, then frantically back at the individual. Though, in this split second, the stranger had approached Iunnet to an extreme degree, and laid their hand gently over her revolver. Iunnet froze in fear, as the piercing red eyes clicked back on to reveal an ominous gaze. “Shh,” the stranger said, placing their finger above their own mask, “Don’t let the bugs bite.”

    There, she placed the fired round gently into Iunnet’s other, free hand, and the stranger was stolen once again by the wind.

 Iunnet’s breath was completely expelled from her body, and she fell onto her knees. The revolver skipped off to the side, and the hammer triggered -- firing a random shot into the distant woods just behind her. The loud pop startled her, and she fell back once again in terror. Only then, there was the quiet serenity of a windy forest, the fluttering birds, and the low, low hum of engines from the east.

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