Alright, Happy Birthday to me and I hope you enjoy Chapter 1 of what I hope to become a large passion project for me! Thanks for reading!
Chapter 1 - A Second Sun
------------ Part 1 - Tomas
Sol, the mother of the solar system in which planet Earth resides. Earth, a rocky body of such volume and activity, the boundaries of such a planet reach up to the vacuum of deep space where it becomes impossible for life to survive. Life, of course humanity and the rest of life all share the same billions-of-years-old celestial body, all tumbling around the billions-of-years-old star in an ever aging galaxy. The deep history of the universe, of this solar system, and the magnificence of the planet all unfortunately boiled down to truly the dullest, blandest of societies. The sun rose upon a city in the northern hemisphere, in Europe, in the Kingdom of Belgium, Brussels.
Early Tuesday mornings in Brussels meant business as usual to Tomas White, he scratched his long brown beard after staring at the ceiling for the past several hours throughout the night. The unaccomplished factory worker rolled out of his splintered twin mattress and reached for his glasses, his dirty button-up and his trousers. Though he lived in an apartment which he shared with god-knows how many other people, he didn’t care about being seen with dirty clothes, ungroomed or unbathed, not that his smell mattered anymore after losing it living in his apartment block. Tomas stretched his skinny body slightly as he turned the knob on his door, exiting his apartment and catching the sight of the reddish-purple light against the distant clouds surrounding the rising sun. The silhouettes of birds in the distance now flying high above the chimneys of the city, they most likely just woke up and were starving just the same as Tomas. It had been some time since Tomas had last eaten but working the factory meant certain sacrifices had to be made, in order to live he had to let go. But today was different, today instead of going straight to the factory he would stop by the market and treat himself to a quick bite to eat, he deserved it after all. With what little money he had, he purchased two slices of old sourdough bread. Even though the bread was hardened to the touch, Tomas licked his lips as he dug his teeth into the treat, though his nose had mostly given out after years in the apartment and the factory, it still smelt of that delicious yeast. Tomas enjoyed his next bite the same as his first, that was until he was interrupted by one of Earth’s many other creatures: the seagull. The seagulls above swooped down once, then twice, then consistently and repeatedly, annoying and nipping at Tomas’ stale bread. Even though it was dry and an actual bakery would only be a moment away for the seagulls to fly to, they still pestered Tomas for a bite. Reluctantly, he cracks a piece from the tough crust and throws it to the cobblestone road where the birds fluttered straight to, fighting for it.
As he watched the birds savagely peck at each other for ownership of the piece, Tomas was caught off guard by the ringing of a distant church bell. Was it already the next hour? Tomas swore to himself as he quickly scarfed down the remaining bit of bread and raced south toward the factory. The birds perched against the chimneys of the old barbershop watched as Tomas now running at full speed, sprinted down the alleyway, past the old couple’s barber shop that had been open for god knows how many years now, through a market of populated by wealthier men and women all scoffing at his presence, and into a side door squeezing past another worker who had opened the door before him. Gently, he slowed his speed and his breath as he felt his heart rate for the first time since he ate, his entire chest was aching from the amount of exercise he had just endured, in some way he was proud of that accomplishment. He watched as his supervisor stared him down with a very benign yet aggressive expression, watching Tomas as he moved over to his station and began sealing the large tin containers of products that this factory produced. In a steady motion, he grabbed the lid, placed it onto the top of a container filled with long thin cylinders, wrote some letters onto the top, then moved onto the next container. Lid, container, label, lid, container, label, lid container label. Tomas knew this action all too well.
It had been a few hours of this extremely repetitive task, feeling aches in the joints of his fingers and wrist, after months of similar work he had grown calluses on the inside of his palm. Not only his hands, but his legs quivered and knees buckled after hours of work. Whilst wincing through this pain, Tomas was then called into the office of his boss. He didn’t think that he did anything wrong, perhaps this was a promotion? Or a celebration on a job well done? Maybe he was being reassigned to a new job in the factory? Tomas made his way up the industrial-sized stairs and into a brick and glass cubicle that sat above the factory floor he was used to.
“Mr. White, I appreciate your expediency in getting to my office on time” The man in clean brown suspenders and a white button up shirt said, facing the wall reading a newspaper. Tomas noticed the lack of wrinkles on the man’s clothing, it was almost as if his shirt was painted onto his body the way it flowed across his round body. His full face and long mustache reminded Tomas of caricatures of bosses he had seen on papers stapled around the town.
“Yes of course, thank you sir, I always-” Tomas stopped as he saw the man in front of him turn to face him. A wave of fear and anxiety rolled over as Tomas examined both the expression and mannerisms of the man. Disappointment was the only word he could use to describe this interaction.
“This is your fourth time running late. Today your supervisor noted that you were over a full hour late this morning. As I understand you have trouble sleeping and eating, is that correct?” The man said. It was true, Tomas was having difficulty, but he always attributed this to his work and the sacrifices he had to make in order to even survive. He gulped down the lump that accumulated in his throat and spoke.
“Sir, I- Yes I have trouble but I do everything I’ve been asked to do. I don’t understand why I’m being questioned” Tomas gulped again, it wasn’t that he felt guilty or maybe he did, it was the fear that the most powerful man in his life was standing right in front of him, and he could end Tomas’ life in seconds with the stroke of a few words.
“Mr. White, I’ve given you multiple warnings over the past few weeks about this and you still seem to not understand. You’ve barely made this month's quota while all your coworkers have almost made it to the double mark. I’m running a business here and you are weighing all of that down, I can’t have that. You must understand now why I have to fire you, please grab your things, we’re done here” That last sentence pierced Tomas’ heart, his eyes swelled but no tears came out. He saw birds watching through the factory windows but he didn’t care, it was almost as if he wanted them to see this, as if this was the bird’s only seeing-scope into what the world of being human was like, as if they were smart enough to comprehend what the man just did. Tomas didn’t realize it at the time, but he was already dead. Tomas apologetically turned around and waddled out the door and down the industrial stairs without any retort to his boss. He jumped out of the side door and began walking south, not knowing what to do next. A scornful frown appeared on his face and wouldn’t leave. His mind was completely blank as he walked toward an open field of grass and flowers. “This is merely a dream” he thought, “in a few seconds I’ll wake up and I’ll get ready for work in the early morning.” However this wasn’t a dream, and what he thought would be the worst day of his life would only get worse. Tomas heard a fluttering sound in the distance, a sound he’d never heard before, only for it to get louder and louder.
Suddenly, Tomas turned to the sky where he saw an angel descend from Heaven, a streak of color racing through the clear sky. It nearly blinded Tomas at first as the sound of the angel became louder and louder. He peaked through his fingers to see the light split into two, like a bird dropping its prey, a portion of the oncoming of light was released as the larger one continued on northward, and the smaller one seemed to slow. Was the smaller angel now approaching him? He thought to himself as his eyes began to give out to the sheer amount of light that was being emitted, fading his eyesight to a dark gray. Tears streamed down from his eyes and stained his shirt as his mind turned to the devil when his ears popped and permanently rang. Was this reckoning for his poor behavior at work? Is this real, was he dreaming?
Tomas looked up, a bright light; brighter than he’s ever seen before. Then he was warm, then he was nothing.
The streets of Luxembourg as the Waterloo Rock pummels through the atmosphere, shattering windows and ear drums as it falls (June 30th, 1908).
------------ Part 2 - Barfleur
The HMS Barfleur sat like a swan, gracefully in the mouth of the River Thames, an unusual place for the Centurion-class vessel yet after a tumultuous few years ferrying admirals and captains to and from England to Asia it was about time to put her to rest. Technology, after all, was becoming more and more outdated by each passing day it seemed. To Robert King, none of this mattered, not unless any of this would stop him from getting his bi-daily smoke break. Nevertheless, Robert dazed off gazing south toward the coast of France, though he couldn’t see anything past the horizon of the seemingly endless ocean, he still imagined sitting in Paris drinking the finest wines the new twentieth-century had to offer… Of course accompanied by a completely fictitious woman. Hearing footsteps behind him Robert quickly turns to the attention of the impending sound, accidentally slipping his cigarette from his hand and off the bow of the ship and into the water below, swearing silently through his teeth. Gerard Copper stood tall against the taffrail, despite being the shortest and most stout of all the sailors aboard the Barfleur, he emanated such a professional and proper demeanor and tone, all while being the same exact age and rank as Robert. Gerard’s freshly pressed uniform even smelled like it had just been through a hill of daisies then placed onto a scentless body. Snapping Robert out of his day dreaming, Gerard began to speak,
“Midshipman King, nice to see you out here.” Midshipman King? How embarrassing, Robert thought to himself. Did he really just say Midshipman King out loud on the deck for everyone else to hear?
“Quit it Gerry, I’m not interested in your stupid formalities today” Robert said as he felt his pocket for another cigarette, only to realize the one he had dropped was his final one. It was at this moment that Robert looked up to see the newly acquired mustache on Gerard’s face. Or what he thought was a mustache, if he didn’t know any better it could’ve been a mouse that snuggled up above his lips, or maybe a caterpillar. “Jesus Christ, what’s that on your face?”
“You mean my mustache? Are you jealous? I’ve been growing it out ever since we got on the Barfleur” Gerard said as he rubbed the thing with his thumb and index finger.
“You look ridiculous,” Robert laughed. While it had only been a handful of weeks out on the Barfleur, Gerard was Robert’s best friend, growing up together in the same apartment building in London made their friendship grow steadily until they both enlisted to the Royal Navy. Their mothers had always been a big part of each other's lives so when they died, the men found solace in each other when they both joined the navy. Besides, it seemed like a better coping mechanism than drinking everyday. As Robert turned back to face the endless ocean, he saw a distant trade vessel pass the horizon, a few sailors on its deck waved out to get the Barfleur’s attention, honking their loud horn, laughing and shouting. The ship’s Union Jack on full display, probably the largest flag he’d ever seen in his life. If the ship was any closer Robert would’ve waved back, maybe even saluted back. Just when he was deep in thought, the sun seemed to teleport just behind the ship. Or maybe a second sun appeared?
Then, a crack, the sound of what seemed to be distant artillery fire could be heard through the entire ship. The boom shocked the entire crew as men raced out of doors and hatches to run onto the deck to spot what had just occurred. They looked to the sky and saw a streak of light just south-east of where they were situated in the channel. The light itself was incredibly bright and forced all the men on the ship to squint or to entirely close, avert or shield their eyes. Robert grabbed Gerard’s jacket tightly as he turned to him with shock and fear. Gerard had his mouth completely agape, seeing his pores begin to bubble as if they were hot water on a stove and his mustache light up then shorten like a dull match. Then suddenly, turning to look out at the ocean, he noticed the water in the distance shake as a white ball expanded through the air.
The trading ship that he saw in the distance was tossed around as its Union Jack flew off and into the water. The air rushed Robert and Gerard as it pushed them against the metal wall and to the wooden deck. His ears were tearing his brain out. It was almost as if the ringing of the aerial explosion broke something inside of him, like he was a machine and a cog got jammed- or maybe removed entirely. His body was frozen yet his mind was screaming in agony, running around the ship and flailing his arms in his mind. He slowly stood whilst gripping the taffrail until his hands were bruised, raising his body with every hyperventilated breath until he was stable on both legs. He searched his body, his flat naval cap had been ripped off his head and his entire body from the waist up felt like it was on fire. Robert peered over to the rest of the deck where there laid more than a handful of men all panicking, all going through the same pain that he is enduring. A single man stumbles off of the ship and into the channel where three others fall to their knees and look over to catch a glimpse of where the man may have gone. The men shrieked when leaning against the taffrail, not realizing the metal was now hot to the touch.
“Are we under attack?” Gerard yelled, not knowing how loud he was screaming into Robert’s ear. That was forgivable of course, Robert could barely hear anyway. Both of them stood over the taffrail of the ship and they saw what seemed to be a giant white cone of water and steam grow into the shape of an explosion. From the base of the cone lead a tall wave, taller than the Barfleur itself, and stretched out towards them and the trading vessel. He watched as men aboard that ship panicked as the monster wave inched towards them at astonishing speeds, like a serpent striking at its prey. The best guess Robert assumed at the time was some enormous hydra or some other horrific aquatic beast was attacking the ship before them and the Barfleur. They were fucked. The colossal wave collided with the small trade vessel as it was pushed and rotated around, shredding the funnel and accommodation block off as if it were made out of paper. The distant ship continued to tumble through the wave as the wooden decks snapped and exposed the interior of the ship itself until finally collapsing the metal hull in half and turning the ship into an unrecognizable mangled patch of wood and metal. Robert held his ears in again as the trade vessel screeched like what he presumed a dragon would have made when mortally injured. The debris from the ship continued as it rode the impending wave ever-creeping towards the Barfleur. Some other sailor on the deck yelled out to hold on to something, while another screamed out to brace.
The wave swiftly crept up to the Barfleur, its metal hull groaning by the sheer force of the water hitting against it. Robert could see bolts and strips of metal fly past his view as he squatted down to brace for the impact. A tall wall of salt water appeared centimeters away from Robert and Gerard’s face as they were once again pushed back angled to the wall and the deck of the ship. Completely drenched, Robert held his breath as water entered his mouth prior, choking him. He started to rub his eyes when gravity seemed to shift from downward being the wooden deck, to now downward being the metal wall of the ship. Robert and Gerard held each other as well as the hand rails closest to them as they felt the forces impacting the ship impact them too, the palms of his hands searing and blistering on contact with the hot metal taffrail. Then seconds after, gravity seemed to shift to the opposite side, forcing both of the men to fall slightly against the taffrail, showcasing the raging ocean below. The ship was waning practically ninety degrees angled to the horizon, shipmen sliding off of the deck and onto the now gray cloud-reflecting ocean surface. The ship teetered back and forth before mostly settling on the now rough waves of the channel. Rain was pouring down from the now obstructed sky, haze and clouds surrounded the once blue of the above and closed in around the Barfleur. Immediately after, Robert recoiled in pain as the rain itself burned his flesh and clothing then fizzled out into steam, like he had just been hit by lava from a volcano. The immense heat from the steam now surrounding the Barfleur forced all the men on the deck to begin coughing and wheezing as their lungs burned from the inside, like an invisible dagger had forced its way into their bodies. Robert hit his palm to his head as water leaked out of his ears releasing some of the pressure, his head still ached, but now his body did too after being tossed around like a ragdoll. He quickly turned to Gerard to see him sat against the wall coughing up salt water and blood. They were alive. Alive after this cataclysmic event where they both saw men die helplessly before them. Had an ancient god struck the ocean with their fists, did the Barfleur unknowing wake some sleeping underwater beast? These questions mattered but the only thing blaring in his mind was his friend. Robert opened his eyes and grabbed Gerard, pulling him closer into a tight hug, using their jackets as mostly-ineffective shields against the rain. Both men felt relief as tears fell from both their eyes.
------------ Part 3 - Waterloo
Klara was (officially) the only woman part of the Post-Belgian Reclamation and Recovery Team, a multinational task force dedicated to aiding the impacted regions of Belgium and surrounding areas following the ‘Waterloo Hellfire’. She had gotten this position after requesting from her father, the now interim King of the Flanders and Wallonia Recovery Zone, that she take point on a Post-Belgian relief troupe. Despite not being able to attend school yet surprising many of her male colleagues, Klara was still medically intelligent and found herself aiding refugees at the forefront of the greatest humanitarian disaster ever recorded in human history. She was trained just like any other medical practitioner at the time, she didn’t see her being a woman making any difference in her professional skill, and thankfully neither did her now royal parents. It had only been a few days after the rocks from space had hit but Klara was still seeing and hearing the damage done to the landscape: waves had apparently reached and flooded London and Paris along with other coastal cities of Britain and France. Even though there was no direct impact, Amsterdam was still a few meters underwater during the reclamation reconnaissance missions. The damage done to Belgium practically wiped out all important government organizations, in all regards, Belgium as a country didn’t exist anymore. People around the world found themselves cut from their roots in Europe as many refugees wept now that their home country was nothing more than a fireball.
When it happened, papers around the world began citing the novel War of the Worlds as what would happen next, the explosion at Waterloo and the two at the English Channel were the landing spots of alien machines that descended onto Earth to enslave all of humanity or even worse, exterminate all life. There was a period where a big part of the western world began to ignorantly believe this theory, however this was quickly debunked as no sign of alien life or advanced spacecrafts were discovered at the sights soon after the incident. Though news is far and few between, this hysteria still lingered in the thoughts of the west. When news of the impact arrived at New York City, Klara and her parents were quickly rushed off on a ship to Europe as her father was seemingly the last remaining relative of the late Belgian royal family. Klara herself saw first-hand the immense destruction of the Lowlands region after their ship berthed in the completely destroyed port city of Ostend. The land smelt of dead carcasses and ash as the faded ground stretched with large bodies of gray water sitting still against the cloudy sky. Taking horses deeper into Belgium, she saw the mutilation of buildings as well as animals and people, she heaved at the thought of them and their being here when this happened. All of these people in all of these villages had died for no reason.
Even through all of the death that she had toured, and the death toll continuing to rise, she heard that tents of aid and care were lined up underneath the Eiffel Tower and throughout the rooftops of the city of Paris. People around the world still cared and sent packages of supplies and food to the affected zones of Western Europe. People who survived and in the affected zones began migrating to Germany and France in an attempt for aid and medical attention. It helped Klara be at ease, knowing that the world was standing in solidarity with her family and the rest of Belgium. But the thought remained. Had the rock been a few minutes early and impacted somewhere completely different, could this disaster have been worse? Maybe this disaster could have been avoided entirely? To Klara and to the majority of humanity, the Waterloo Hellfire was a turning point in human history. A denotation mark of the world before, and the world after. She knew that nothing would be the same after the incident, however everywhere else in the world continued business as usual. Land was destroyed, people were killed, yet the Earth continues to spin and orbit Sol as it had been for billions of years. Though the Earth slowly learned of the event, mourned for a few seconds then went on with its life, Klara couldn’t get the image of death out of her head, and that terrified her.
The path of the Waterloo Rock and its impact points of destruction on June 30th, 1908.
