TRAPPIST-1 E is a new chance for humanity and scientists finally found a way how to reach that place. In Elysion town they build the first human colony outside of earths star-system. But shortly before arriving on TRAPPIST-1 E, they meet an old friend: Greed and Hate. There is an explosion on the colony ship and on the planet the colony is repeatedly attacked for no reason by traitors, the separatists. When the Separatists send an encrypted signal to Earth, the mayor of Elysion Town, Cooper, begins the rescue of the colony. Can humanity change or is this its nature? Cooper needs to rescue his daughter Sophie from the hands of the separatists and wants to keep her, as well as her little sister Shannon, from living under bad conditions.
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An event like this is supposed to happen. A revolution is always waiting to explode. Since the conception of its leader, since their first steps, there is always that flame burning inside them. That urge, that sense of discomfort. A man, a woman, a child, nothing more than humans, but what about what they carry? Up in their head, up there where they develop, build and dream about that revolution. The ideas colliding and trying to make sense inside them. At times, failing at it. At times, accepting the inevitable contradiction of one’s thoughts. Maybe there was more than just an idea behind all those events. Maybe there was a hypocrisy, another intention, a malicious direction. You can never be sure, there is too many layers to inspect, too many humanity for a simple mathematical equation, but you could say that, this time, all there was in the surface and insides of their acts, was survival. The earth couldn’t give them more, like a beloved partner that promised to give endless love, even when the heart eventually stops.
There was always an option, said the TV, said the people above, said the preacher, said everyone reading from a screen. Solar energy, growing in fields, science, development of unrenewable products, even love. All that daydreaming became nightmare. It was no longer something to be greedy for, no longer something of the higher class. In fact, it was the higher class who less needed those escapes. It was no longer greed, it was need. They worked out, for a while, but the problem stopped being the unproductiveness of the earth, to become its death.
There was no tree dancing along the intensity of a wind, nor a beach shivering afraid of the tide. Only dust of a dead planet, only dust, waiting for humans to brush it off.
What else could they do? They were looking, and they found. The immense childishness appeared once they noticed that no government, that no god was able to give them what they always had. It was not a matter of human rights, or government incompetence. It was just death knocking on the door. It was fun while it lasted, said the suicides. It could be more fun, said the crimes. Fun might have gone extinct, but the happiness that precedes it has not died yet. The first world countries were not in immediate throughble. Even when the depression was bumping at its most furious, they could still be able to steal what was left of the not so lucky countries.
They felt in the right to save as many of their people as possible, because how could that middle class family wake up without their daily bowl of cereal and milk? What about their clothes? Their TV? Unthinkable, no one should ever lose what they got, not even if they were taking it from dead bodies. Without noticing, the population that once felt monumental and annoying, became lesser and lesser. Those heated countries became nothing more than wastelands and testing fields of the colder ones. The latter bought themselves some time. They knew that there was nothing left here, so they had to look up. Investigations, tests, people dying; that is all it took for mankind to move on. Mars wasn’t hard. Even before it all went down, there was already people walking in it.
There was a little town there, then another next to it, then they took some more poor countries to make it to Jupiter, and for some time, the rich that were already fine in earth and wanted to be fine in another place, couldn’t manage to lose their greed in the process. They wanted more, that tank of oxygen and their three meals a day weren’t enough. It’s understandable, it’s not easy to lose power. There was still people on earth that needed a place to live, but they simply couldn’t afford it. Mars and Jupiter became homes, while the earth was left for more scientific testing and poverty. There wasn’t that much opposition from the poor side. They barely could live through a day. They could barely get up themselves from their beds, let alone a protest sign.
They gave up before starting to fight. Although, some managed to take advantage of the absence of the rich and their laws. They took their houses while they were out there in space. They took their animals, or at least the ones they didn’t have time to eat. Resistance happened in them, but not against an upper power. The only upper power that now took them in consideration was the human condition. The battle against starving, against a flu, against a cold night. The scientist couldn’t help but notice. They were sent to earth to find another solution, another way for the rich to increase their life quality, but they found more. They found a face in that bony corpse laying in the street.
They heard a scream of help trying to elaborate some words. They found humans in human bodies. Who would have thought?
The scientists and astronomers knew better than anyone. The research they had, the research they chose to hide or show to the public and the organizations meant for the good of mankind. The public, the people up there in their crystal houses, breathing compacted air, seeing everything from a different and privileged view, they didn’t stop to question the intentions of the scientists. They were too scare, or too comfortable to ask. After all, they, the scientists, were the ones that saved them from the cruel fate that they didn’t care to leave for the undevelopt countries. The organizations were too busy trying to make everything and everyone happy up there in their personal domes and cultivated lives. That is how Elysion started. They had everything they needed: the budget, the knowledge, the people to save.
Yes, they knew better. They knew TRAPPIST-1E. A little earth, a little chance. It could work, they said. They were supposed to bring the richer people to a safer place, even though they didn’t exactly need it. It was the perfect opportunity, not only for trying the light year traveling, not only for finding out the possibility of life outside their solar system, but also for bringing hope to those who couldn’t buy some. So Elysion lived, vividly, in the background. People died and people couldn’t stop lgivingg in the meantime.
There were rumors, but nothing never left the earth. People of the earth started to hear about the miracle. Some started to dream about it, some others to deny it, trying to carry one. How human of them. The flame was there, melting everyone’s cold states of mind, one way or another. The hope was creeping inside the forgotten and repurposed houses, trying to find a way into their new owners.
It was not easy for hope to stay. Death didn’t stop coming, it was a daily basis. It was common to see entire families disappearing one by one. Sometimes, all of a sudden. Although, a community was able to raise around the whereabouts of the scientist’s playground, which started to be known among the believers as Elysion. The people that tried to live day by day, meal by meal, now started to smile while doing it. Their eyes started to gain their color back, their skin started to lose the paleness. Sometimes, the scientist would go beyond and ask to the organizations sustaining them for more resources. Not form them but for the new people of Elysion.
They became more than a group of scientists, or a group of anonymous donators, or a group of dying civilians. They became hope itself, and as long as that ship was being build, they couldn’t lose that shining in their faces. Their ticket out was called The Flame, a tremendous ship meant for all the people of Elysion, not less. For the first time in years, the people felt joy, real joy. Not a simple smile, not an occasional laugh. They felt they were going to be alright. Evidently, there is still a cost, a cost Elysion refused to pay.
Once the ship was ready to departure and the calendar asked for a response to the companies in charge, the indicium of the mess arrived, and it’s that no one gets out of throughble without taking a few sudden turns. Elysion’s scientists claimed that only a certain amount and kind of people was able to travel along with them in The Flame. They claimed the ship was built for several journeys and that once the first testing travel was finished, they would come back to take the human gods to their promised land.
They promised the land, and although promises shouldn’t be broken, they surely can be postponed, or at least pretend to be so. The men hesitated, but they couldn’t do more knowing that there was a risk of not getting out alive, which was true, partially. Without any man in any high castle noticing, The Flame departed with all its members aboard. 2400 people, 2400 survivors, 2400 men and women in their arch, hoping the waves of the black ocean to take them were the karma of years of suffering was waiting for them. The Flame was equipped for more than 2500 passengers, so the artificial farms, the rooms and the overall resources was more than enough for the already dying people. It was their salvation, they could eat, they could work out, they could start again in their little private box of flying metal. But humans will be humans, and once the vestige of danger was revealed, they couldn’t help but let the fear come in again. There was no warranty about the safety of the 2400 members of Elysion. The planet they were about to turn into home was not the daydreamt by all of those TV commercials. Its similarity to earth lets the door open for life. Maybe hostile life.
There was no clue about what the things they will encounter may look like, but either way, the fear took its time. There was a lot of journey left to go through, there was still life in there, so why bother thinking about the death out there?
The people of Elysion grew, for years, for them. Bones were lost underneath the new muscles of the people that nearly starved, knowledge was given to the people that couldn’t catch a glance of it in the past.
People was starting to give signs of good life, but the fear made metastasis, to everyone, to every corner of the ship, nesting and growing, intrusively thinking, misbehaving. Once there was a sense of peace, some people started to be mean to one another. A fight in the cafeteria, an argument in the men’s bathroom, an out of place comment passing by in the halls. The fear that initially couldn’t make it to the organisms of those too hopeful, was sent through the air, through the touch, making everyone sick. The fear started to kill sanities. There was a man that intended a riot in order to take control of the ship and be more “secure” about their destiny. All out of distrust. Even though it caused a lot of throughble, it didn’t get too far. Besides, the reasons of the riots were aiming to a common purpose: sticking to the plan. But fear goes beyond that. One night, the men in charge of the ship noticed a series of encrypted messages sent to the earth from somewhere in the ship. Despite all the interrogation and all the resources cut in order to find out who the perpetrator was, they never knew who or what was in the messages. They let it be.
The main crew, along a consensus with the people of Elysion, decided it was not worth it. It only brought more insecurity, so instead they decided to be more careful and spread the positivity around. They gave reasons to try and be okay, they gave reasons to trust in the plan, although it was not the best of them all. It was the only one, and that was enough. Years passed and although Elysion managed to preserve a good and steady style of life for everyone, the hostility between some of the members couldn’t leave their bodies that easily. It was something unavoidable.
All 2400 men and women simply can’t get along, so they hoped for things to remain as peaceful as possible between the people. There was no other accident, there was no great inconvenience. The ship acted nicely as it was supposed to. Maybe some malfunction here and there, but never a mayor problem. No, there was no malfunction displaying in the panels when the warehouse exploded. It was a rough day, it was the day The Flame was supposed to land on their new home, but the crew had other plans.
While hovering the planet, the sightings of monsthroughs and dinosaur-like creatures wandering around the planet took them all to the edge. “We cannot land there”, “we are dead”, “turn the ship back”. There was no “back”. The lies the scientists told the higher men were still lies. The Flame was not able to comeback, only to land. People started to lose all common sense, and the fear they kept inside of them, silent, urging, finally bursted into yelling and fighting.
Some tried to get to the control cabin to set a new unknown course, maybe even to make the ship crash, because fear can evolve in miserable ways. Already in the atmosphere of their new home, something exploded in one of the warehouses of The Flame. There was too many people spread across the entire ship, impossible for the security guards to keep an eye on them all, so an explosion occurred out of nowhere, out of someone. The main crew could have manage to keep the ship steady despite the immense firework festival, but the rioting people couldn’t let it happen. And so, The Flame crashed. Every fight stopped, every scream drowned out, every hope was in standby.
Suspense floated through the air of the halls, silence kept asking over and over again what it was supposed to happen now. Everyone on their knees, on their sides, fainted, bruised, on the floor, uncertain about whether to stand up or not. There were waiting for something, something that could make the fighting wait.
There were left in the outside of a new world, with a new kind of danger surrounding and above. Tiptoe, they aim their feet outside of The Flame. Nervous and clueless, they took steps, then took walks, then stopped. A new world, underneath, on the side, above. They found themselves marveled at the beauty of their surroundings. An earth they had never seen, the earth they pictured, the earth that could have been. The silence turned into laughter once again, the fear in some of the eyes translated into tears of happiness. Some threw themselves to the ground and started to worship it.
This is it, they thought. Despite all the wreck, despite the problematic past and future, they were there. Breathing air, stepping grass, hugging again. Elysion proposed, Elysion accomplished. The 2400 were fine, in their own way. The 2400 were fine, but their initial purpose remained damaged. United, they struggled, but managed to build their new town, Elysion Town.
The artificial fields inside The Flame were repurposed in the best area they could find, there where their fresh knowledge about agriculture could come to shine. The ship was immense, and therefore, mostly useless. The ship was incapable of flying out again, not even with a century of development in this brand new world of them, so they put is to use.
The metals went through furnaces, and everything inside it found its place in the outsides, in Elysion Town. A house was built, then another one, then a third one, but as the time passed, all the infrastructures came to be, and all the seeds started to born, the only thing that couldn’t seem to grow was the relationship between most of the Elysionians. The tension never left the habitants, and the habitants couldn’t help but welcome it. It felt safe, somehow. Not trusting one another seemed a good move, at least to some. As long as they had distance and an eye on their backs they would be fine. At some point, no one knew no one’s true intentions. Some let it slide: letting the flow take them to where they were most safe. Some thought they were too smart for that. The creatures of the planet, that didn’t make them wait, didn’t help either.
Stories about close sightings of the creatures were mentioned from time to time. A man would come screaming to the town, yelling about the looks of a monster. Everyone would freak out and start to hide from the inevitable evil, which never seemed to arrive. Luckily, Elysion Town remained pure towards any visceral attack until they could find a way to keep the terrors at bay. A humble wall, one that will eventually grow bigger, was built as fast as they could, for it was their only chance of survival. Although there was improvement in the life and the whereabouts of their Town, the Elysionians kept battling, mostly with themselves. One of the only things that were supposed to be rescued from The Flame was its computer, which was not only able to pilot the ship, but to set any kind of a bond between them and the outer space.
It was lost in the crash, along several other control spots. Despite the dismantling of the ship, the shell of it all remained where it landed. There, as a common place for the community of Elysion Town, the habitants could gather and debate about the issues and the problematics found inside and outside the town. Everyone found a purpose.
There, farmers, doctors, builders and leaders were assigned. United, in the benefit of their new home. But they needed energy. They were only capable of doing what they could with the hand of fire, but if they wanted to grow apart from the misery they left the earth for, they needed to go beyond. The first rocket was made, the first attempts failed, and finally, a man managed to land on the moon of TRAPPIST-1E.
There, as it was predicted by the scientists, they found the rarity of the Extralium atoms, the ones capable of providing the town the energy they wanted, the energy they begun to need. It became precious among the Elysionians. They found out it was a renewable product of the moon, so with it, they came to build more and more ships, meant to extract the atoms and bring them to their home. But the atoms were far more than that. The town grew faster than ever, leaving old buildings behind, becoming more than they could ever expect. It was a great time for the Elysionians. They were happy. Happiness was not a senseless word anymore, there was a meaning to it. A party could be heard and dancing could be saw in the night at times. Laws were strict, but nothing too mandatory.
They were able to live lives, real lives. Lives they only watched in TV or in the magazines. There they were, enhancing themselves, trying to do better, failing at it. One of those flashy and happy nights, there was an explosion. Almost the entire town attended to the event, so as the almost forgotten music of the speakers started to dim, the uncertainty went along with the noise of brutal fire. The town switched their feet from the dancing to the running, trying to grasp some knowledge about what was happening that night. Doctors, farmers, scientists, them all gathered around the burning power plant of the town, the one meant to condense the Extralium atoms and process them into energy. They felt some of that fear again, for the loss of such an important thing as the power plant couldn’t pass unnoticed.
They knew that rebuilding it wasn’t going to be easy, but that night, at that time, when their eyes were drowned in the mirroring of the dancing flames, the only thing that their heads could dig was the names of the vandals that made it. Later that night, they found out that almost 400 people, now former habitants of Elysion Town, were missing. For some, it was a mystery.
They couldn’t figure out the reason why so many people would vanish all of a sudden. Some other were able to see the pieces fit with one another, even when they weren’t so sure about the purpose behind. Something happened that night, and the result was the birth of another faction, grouped by the ones incapable of feeling any comfort inside the walls, inside the laws, among the Elysionians. The separatists, the other 400, they became an entity of their own. The Elysionians could vaguely picture the reasons of the separatists.
The fear and the distrust was something that managed to live through the years in spite of all the advancement the people accomplished to make together. The fights were no longer around, but the urge of them remained inside the minds of all the 400, waiting to burst that day, hoping to find the courage to embark themselves into the great and scary world around them.
The 400 thought they could do better, they thought they could really take advantage of the new world they found, and that belief passed from generation to generation, waiting the exact moment to go and make it happen. Time didn’t stop, even when most of them wanted it to. The renovation of the power plant carried far more problems than they thought it would bring, and the depressions became usual again. Not because of desperation, but because, by now, they had already accepted that this is how it was supposed to work. With highs and lows. With vertiginous highs, and gloomy lows. They were supposed to always fight for what they wanted: a happy life. Even when sometimes that happiness would be replaced by grieve and sorrow, they could always look beyond the sadness and aim for the things to come. That is how they did it back then, at the earth, and that is how it’s meant to be. Back then, they were lucky enough to survive passed that day. Now, luck is not a choice.
They have been given the treasure of life, and the tools to preserve it. So it takes a little bit more than smiling and hoping, and a little more to bring the proud and great people of Elysion Town down. Maybe, at the end of it all, they will turn out to be worthy of it.
As lighting from a storm against the highest top, war strikes over and over again. This time, with all they had in their power. In the past, they would go and try for more humble plans. They would go and try to make them bite the bait to steal resources from them. Other times, they would go far beyond, infiltrate into the people and try to get some information. The reasons of this attempts couldn’t find any sense in Cooper’s head. As the leader and proclaimed mayor of Elysion Twon, you would think he would have some idea about the nature of the meanings of his beloved enemies.
As he watches from the highest point in town, the office building, he ponders about where were they wrong. His shiny blonde hair glares thanks to the morning light escaping from the horizon and placing above all the heads now full of rage, fear and thirst. He knows the fight against the separatists has taken place since ever. There wasn’t a time in his life where the sporadic attacks of the rebels weren’t usual. That is all he has known since his birth: a fight. Always a fight waiting for the first man to throw the first punch. It’s not the first time he has gotten tired of it, it’s not the first time he has said he will make it stop this time either. His heart overwhelms itself at the idea. Maybe it’s too much for him. A town is not easy to carry, especially when there is others trying to bring it down. There is a responsibility to it.
There is a person in their house, hoping for him to do his job, to do what he has to do to keep them safe. A fist is born in his right hand as he takes a strong grip of the rooftop’s railing right in front of him, the one keeping him apart from the fall.
From afar, he can see the unhappy marching band, expecting their efforts to take them inside the great town. He has nothing to worry, as all his other companions have told them since the first day in charge. That wall will not fall, those walls will not leave them by their own. But then, why is a quake in his chest? The anxiety of a man crumbling, or another man going through what he most appreciates. He can’t allow that to happen. That, what he is right now, is not what the people need. A fearing man is useless here. What people need is a man of god, but honestly, what really goes through Cooper’s head when he thinks about the “people”, is his daughter Sophie.
A long brownish hair lays in the green grass of some far away forest found in solace. She would go there from time to time with Johannes, a young man who she couldn’t help but attach to her existence. The forest, the one the both of them were used to go, was not inside the standards of security. The zone was rarely populated because of that, and a few sightings of the so called “beings” have sure taken place around those areas, but it certainly was the safest of all the dangerous zones. All the times they would go, all the times they would come back.
Both could spend entire days just lying in that sweet green grass, letting some bugs and branches mix with their hairs, letting their hairs to mix with each other’s. The sky looks the same every day. The sky they saw yesterday, the sky that will hope to see tomorrow. That same moon floating tall in that black canvas. Those stars, big enough to be seen even in the light of the day the young sun provides to its new disciples down in that little grain of dust they call home. That same acid rain that is so used to fall over their heads at least once a day.
Sophie and Johannes often wonder how that rain would look on the earth. Is rain still existing on the earth, like the old writings said? Is the earth still existing? If it is, it remains exactly how the first ones left it? The yellowish liquid of the rain that often falls onto their faces and hair full of grass asks the question, drop by drop.
How different they are from the past ones? Did they look more beautiful than this? The questions never truly found answer. They just ask, that is a fun thing to do. Ask, without the curse of knowing. Ask, without any compromise with the answer. Ask in silence, ask as if you don’t want to. Today, she asked alone. Johannes never came to their daily wonder at the outsides of the town. How different would have been. As the rioting people emerges from everywhere, surrounding the town’s walls, Sophie couldn’t catch a glance of the happenings. She is far too invested in asking those questions.
Maybe she even wants to know the answers, maybe she is just being childish. Her father told her something like the latter once he found out about her little escapes. He couldn’t stop her, not even then when the dangers were exposed to her in the most delicate way possible. So a getaway to the forest couldn’t be held down, a getaway to a common forest. The reason for the security of the forest against the Beings is not a matter of luck or coincidence.
Forest #3, known as the Main Forest due to its greatness, was the one suspected to be the connection between the Elysion Town and the separatist’s base. Although it was heavily guarded by the Elysionian team of security every day, today they couldn’t do much about it.
It is too big, and the people are angry. They spread across all the forests to place pressure against all the entrances of the town, so they could take power over it. Although, the Elysionians are no fools, and neither their leaders. The civil guard takes action against the walking menace of the separatists as a war show starts in the streets of the town. They come in vehicles from the state buildings, charging their weapons, aiming at the first one they see.
Violence is the entrance, and comprehension was never an option with the separatists. As soon as they see the first guard with a gun, the separatists draw their beloved guns, those which they love to show to the curious eyes.
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