The Machine Mind had effectively crushed almost all hope of a human rebellion in moments, it wiped out the most powerful countries in the world in a matter of hours, hacking into the encoded secure computers at their command and turning their massively destructive weaponry against themselves, simultaneously obliterating entire military forces, cities, civilians, politicians, everything, all across the globe. One of the Generals of the old country, the United States, had seen this approach the Machine Mind used….they called it ‘Scorched Earth’. That General is probably long dead by now. The United States, Russia, China, England, France, all wiped from the map before they could even fight back. This was the power of the Machine Mind, all the world powers, the United Nations, the ones every country looked to for protection, were already completely crippled, battered, beaten and thrown to the side, by this cold, mechanical, remorseless enemy. The Machine Mind had taken over factories all over the world, using mechanical arms, simple contraptions built by Man to make our lives more convenient, to create Machine Men, to build more weaponry, to search for the last vestiges of a dying race, its goal was not to subjugate humanity, nor to cow us into submission. It was a simple mission. Complete Eradication. It began its search for the few bunkers left, spread wide across the world, deep under the ocean…I heard that the Russians had actually managed to launch an orbital bunker, thousands of people, in orbit, floating through the stars. With no means to contact each other, we had no way to know how many were left, but so effective was the Machine Mind’s initial assault, there could not be many. We were, like them, alone now, a few hundred humans, alone against an enemy with the power of the entire planet, hiding from the light in a tiny hole, scared. Without leadership, this bunker would probably have fallen to its own dark humanity. There was a man, a military man who could command even the most feral criminal into submission with his voice alone, who calmed the masses, controlled them like a dictator. But it was better than killing each other, the Machines did that well enough on their own. This is the story, of Humanity, of its fight for survival, of the bunker, named by its own people, Helltown.
On the path, bathed in light, and on this path sits a fork, to the right, the not so gently sloping road to the top of a sky-lit mountain top, to the left, soaked in darkness that the sun can’t penetrate, the route deeper, into the Undergarden. The road to the right, long unkempt, left abandoned for it’s implied difficulty of passing, becoming intraversible with time. The route to Undergarden, worn even deeper with countless crossings due to the promise of an easy journey, deeper, down into the Undergarden. And so you walk, willingly, obligingly deeper, till the sun has no hold on the horizon, even the insects begin to fear the silence, bodies strewn across the path, left separated from all those in the world they used to belong, abandoned, alone, they say silence is the loudest cry never heard. At the end of the invitingly easy walkway, the Undergarden, a place that has seen no light in more years than there are people, a place where the maddening sound of silence is suffocating, poisonous, it gets into your veins, corrupts you. And in the end, in Undergarden, the world of light is nothing but a hazy memory of the past, a fleeting delusion of the mad, that must surely never have existed for themselves.