The Day the Sky Lit Up: PrologIt had been a quiet, normal day. Everyone was leading their lives with their usual excitement, which resulted in plenty of people being pretty bored. When we went partying after work, though, we saw the lights in the sky. There were these long lines of light, which shone as bright as the sun. But they faded quickly, so quickly that even a shooting star seemed to be having a leisurely stroll in the park, in comparision.
We were absolutely stumped. Noone had ever seen anything like that, and we couldn't get an answer from anyone we knew as to what it was. So, we did the most logical thing to do: we got ourselves some booze, went to the park, and started watching the skies. Someone even brought a camcorder. I checked on the internet; there were some wild theories about, but no government or institution had said anything in the way of explanation; neither our government, nor anyone else's.
For hours we stood in the park, watching the lights as they moved across the sky. News of other parts
Under the sky so blueHe was looking up at the blue sky, and he felt at ease.
It was so easy to get lost in his mind, he just had to let go, letting the sun wash over him, the fresh breeze of air going past, gently caressing his face with its soft touch. He let his arms slide about, the grass running through the gaps between his fingers, an occasional sunflower rubbing its blossom against the top of his fingers.
He sighed, and remembered a time in his youth, one hot summer under the large chestnut tree in the field. Always he would take his kite and go out in the back of the house, let it rise in the sky and run across the fields, laughing in delight as only a kid can really do at something so simple.
There was a clamour of joy coming from across the field where he now lay, and interestingly enough, he could spot a family with their two children, running together and raising a kite up high. He smiled at the sight of such innocent fun. One of the kids stumbled, though, and they lost control of the kite.. It
The shock upon connecting was always the same; even though you jacked in all the time, day after day, month after month, you never got used to it.
It starts slowly, after the jack connects; a crawling, starting at the cortex plug, slowly filling the whole of your Cerebellum. You begin to lose focus of the world around you, then, your limbs not responding to your commands any more; locked in whatever position you were on pressing the button.
After that, you can feel the tingling expanding through the rest of your brain, taking over your senses; and just in the moment where you think your brain is going to crack the case and will be sprayed all over the wall the next second, you connect.
The abstract representation of the metaplane fills your vision, then, all the visual concepts we created to make it easier for us to handle the impossible amounts of data our brain could never process as mere text; just the thought of having all you can see
Someone was running across the desolate fields that stretched before the huge black structure which had been the most inspiring muse for many poets and artists. The sheer unbelievable dimensions, the idea behind it, all of it made a single man feel small and unimportant.
Some felt threatened, enclosed by this fact.
One of them, which were classified as having a disease called "domophobia", was currently following the inevitable course of his illness: trying to escape from that which threatened him. A cure for the disease was available, theoretically, but it only worked in the rarest of cases, of the cases which survived.
This one specimen suffering from domophobia had a name; he even had work and a place to live, but due to his illness, his home was empty beside him. Domophobes rarely had any success in finding partners due to the paranoic factor of their disease; in the rare instances where one successfully managed to find a partner, it usually was another domophobe who understood him
The rain had been pouring down a little oven an hour now, after suddenly arriving from nowhere. People were huddling themselves beneath the overcasts of the surrounding buildings, much to the rejoice of street-level café owners. Other citizens who weren't lucky enough to have time to spare were maneuvering the streets, hiding under the hoods of waterproof clothing, or, in rare instances, the slightly yellow shimmer of an EnviroProtec field.
Leaning against the cool, antique stone of the cathedral in the nearing dusk, a man had no intention of moving, but rather watched the crowd flowing around him intently. He had thrust his hands in the pockets of his long, white cloak and thrown over his hood, which was hiding his face in shadows.
A voice in his ear crackled to life, emerging from a sea of static: "Peter, everything okay with you down there?"
The man called Peter touched his throat, activating the microphone there. "All clear. Nothing suspicious .. yet."
"Understood. No PSI readings,