Atlantis Burning

Atlantis Burning

Stark against the sun swallowed slowly by a crimson ocean, a dead volcano's steel skeleton bleeds black mischief into the gullet of a hulking glutton whale machine. Mechanical marine cow swims to city satiated, regurgitates into greedy baby funnel beak, fills brimless with consanguine, pumps splashing inky power into concrete reservoirs, feeding the voracious vampiric empire. Gulping crude and crafty from a golden cup, the beady-eyed king revels dionysian, never knowing the monster lurking in every wealthy drop.

Stretching newfound limbs immature, the fiend spreads tentacles, gripping the emotion of the acute and twisting the intellect of the obtuse. And with every tiny suckle off the monster power-monger by the people of the city, that same beast's reach is amplified, its cruel claws digging slowly influential into the actions of even the pure. That same black octopus wraps inky tendrils into manacles about the weak and tired, holding them upright with vicious hooks; its tentacles invade heavy tanks, bloated and full, suction cups working in reverse to poison every well with murky intent.

Slowly, the yet living become aware of their wounds, struggling futilely like foxes in black quicksand traps, a bleak symbiosis with the very enemy itself. Swords drawn, a charge signals a covetous desperation, but when the soldier stabs into the enemy, he cuts his comrade besides. Nor can tolerance in its finite application fell this awful foe, for it cares not of mercy or charity, only the ruin of all, and with the rest, itself.

Instead, must the masses with eyes to the east ever-vigilant await the return of a dire savior. Champion will be he who for a pound of flesh reaches one bare arm to the heavens and grasps that which separates man from beast: the freedom of the match, the glory of the sun. Hero will be he who uses uselessly, shaking righteously that fiery fist in the face of the dark adversary, daring to waste, demanding an end. And then, Legend will be he who ignites fear and finds weakness in that enemy which men have used as power since power had a name, plunging mighty wrist-deep into explosion, then victory.