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The Exile

Prologue:

Oh, death. Oh, death. Won’t you spare me over til another year?

A whole generation of humans have been misplaced. How could this happen? The prophets said that the world would shift in a deadly way. Humans chose to ignore them and got lost in their own pleasures. On New Years’ Eve 1999, they partied as they welcomed in the new year. Glasses clinked as the partiers downed champagne and sake. Glitter rained from the sky as they counted down to the end.

Ten! Lovers exchanged kisses in Paris, France.

Nine! People in London downed more ale.

Eight! The pounding club music didn’t stop in Berlin.

Seven! Time Square breathed excitement as the people counted down.

Six! Prague waits for the ball to drop as they down beer.

Five! Montreal partied in the crowded night streets.

Four! Los Angles enjoyed the warm nights and partying.

Three! Rome broke glasses and partied up as the countdown raced towards the end.

Two! Tokyo welcomed the New Year with wide eyes.

One!

Just as the prophets predicted, the power went out as the clock struck midnight. The people looked around, bewildered. Black swirling clouds filled the sky, swallowing up the stars above. Not a single human dared to move an inch. Some wondered if this was an elaborate stunt playing pulled off worldwide. Suddenly, a voice filled the air.

“You have all wasted your lives doing nothing to heed the words of our children in the prophets!” it said. “Now you must suffer through our masterplans!” Flashes of black, gray, and red filled the sky. A woman’s scream got lost in the sound of pounding drums. No one had time to react. The ending was already here. A silent explosion rocked the sky. There was only fire. And then…

Nothing.

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