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Old February 20th, 2012 (8:29 AM). Edited February 20th, 2012 by Shrike Flamestar.
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Shrike Flamestar Shrike Flamestar is offline
The Invisible!
Join Date: Jun 2008
Location: Within the synapses of the internet and my own mind.
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Posts: 212
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Welcome to TRINITY. Possibly my most unique setting ever; a sci-fi, cyberpunk Pokemon fanfiction set in the future. The rules are not the same, the game has changed. Indeed, I guess you could say the game is GONE, completely.

I hope you enjoy TRINITY, but just be forewarned right now that I have a habit of taking a long time to post new chapters. Hell, it's been over a year now since I last worked on my fanfics period. If you wish to be easily informed of new updates without needing to constantly keep tabs on the thread I suggest you subscribe to it: at the top of this post click the "thread tools" menu and then "subscribe to this thread" and choose your preferred notification setting. I used to do PM update lists but they're far too much of a hassle.

Anyway, here we go. I've got a lot of wasted time from 2011 to make up now.

Table of Contents and Information
Overall Fanfic Rating: PG-15 (Swearing, violence, occasional gore, and other generally more mature themes)
Genres: Science fiction, cyberpunk, original universe, drama, action


Chapter 0

The sky was the color of rust and blood. People walked out on balconies ringing the immeasurably tall spires that populated the island below, gazing up at this curious scene. Ultimately they would shrug it off, turning back to the person they had been talking to and returning to whatever conversation they had been having as they leaned against the balcony's railing. They were fearless of the empty air below the balconies, the ground far below lost amid darkness and an ever-present fog.

To the south of the island, a fire burned.

Deep underground, in what was supposed to be a vacuum tunnel, deactivated magnetic rails lined the sides of the lengthy tube. Screens set along the inner walls of the tunnel displayed bold warnings in red, sirens blazing. The remains of a low orbital shuttle sat at one end of the compromised tunnel, electricity sparking as fire ravaged within it. The shuttle was cleaved in two from the explosion that had set off the fires, that had compromised the tunnel's vacuum and allowed the shuttle to burn at all. Metal curled into rust and people cried in pain, for help, as blood spilled over the stainless steel floor of the passenger deck.

In the center of the city, amid the tall spires that represented in many ways the pinnacle of human development, stood one tower greater than all the others. Rising miles in the air and piercing into the clouds, this central tower was easily recognizable if not for its sheer height alone. Encircling its base was a geodesic dome, triangular plates fitting into hexagons that meshed together with exact precision to form the surface of the dome. Beneath the dome was a city unto itself, housing buildings that were dwarfed by the towers outside yet themselves seemed magnificent as they couched, isolated, around the base of the great tower. Terraces further lined the inside of the geodesic dome, their surfaces filled with sprawling, vertically-stacked cities all their own.

By contrast, the top of the tower was not near as occupied or recognizable. The tower disappeared above clouds that never seemed to vanish, leaving few below with knowledge of what the great tower’s top looked like. Indeed, many would likely find it to be a disappointment. A large penthouse occupied the entirety of the tower’s topmost floors, glass windows encircling around the tower's tip offering a view of the open sky above the clouds. The pinpricks of stars were keenly visible at this altitude without the distraction of clouds or lights, a sight the penthouse’s resident much enjoyed. The interior of the penthouse was decorated simply, with plush white furniture and simple geometrical shapes. A few abstract sculptures rested here and there, while paintings kept the walls busy and visitors lost in thought over their meanings. The penthouse's resident himself saw little meaning in such abstractness, but relished them as decoration.

That resident pulled himself up from the chair he sat in, crossing his arms behind his back. They had an odd sheen to them, a peculiar stiffness to their movements. He walked over to a hanger that stood next to one of his more preferred paintings, pausing to stare at the bold yet ultimately pointless mix of colors and shapes for a moment before picking up a pure white robe from the hanger with his unnatural arms. Draping the robe over his shoulders, the man slowly walked over to the large, encircling window. He observed the peculiar color of the sky, swirls of reddish-brown mixing with bright crimson, the colors of rust an blood.

A groan emitted from below the floor under the man's feet as large motors suddenly powered themselves, the man feeling nothing as the entire penthouse began to rotate. It turned so that he now faced the south, according to a faint compass visible to the man but no one else, projected directly onto his retinal nerves. Reaching a hand out from under his robe, the man placed its palm on the glass, feeling its cool surface through artificial nerves in the surface layer of the fake hand. The clouds below seemed to shimmer as if responding to this motion, nanoscale particles that floated amid the condensed water suddenly aligning themselves, polarizing the very structure of the clouds, rendering them invisible to the man as he stared out the window yet as solid as ever to those below. Without the clouds the entirety of the island was now laid out before the man, he staring down at its breadth with a grim look across his haggard face.

A circle appeared projected between the layers of the glass, rotating around a low building near the southern tip of the island. Windows of information began to pop up around the building, the man scanning his eyes across them, interpreting the information as it scrolled past at an inhuman rate. The building was Helios City Spaceport's mass driver number four's main terminal. Deep below the terminal was the miles long tunnel of the mass driver, stretching far out into the ocean before gradually ramping upwards to electromagnetically catapult low orbital shuttles and freighters into space.

That shuttle was burning, before it even left the station. The sky seemed to sympathize, having turned into its mixture of reddish-brown and crimson, of rust and blood. The people below didn't yet know, but the man in the penthouse, dressed in white and staring down below, had a duty to know of these incidents first. He had seen enough for now though, slowly tuning away. Already profiles of every passenger on the shuttle were flashing up before his eyes, implanted on his retinal nerve. The name, occupation, financial standing, physiological and psychological profile of every passenger. He absorbed the information as it scrolled invisibly before his eyes. It was too soon to know who was alive and who was dead, who was injured beyond recovery and most importantly, those who could recover, yet could not afford to. It wouldn’t be long before first responders would provide that information, but in the mean time he could prepare.

The man finally cracked a smile as two profiles remained fixated in his vision. A perfect match for his needs, he could only hope they had survived. It was uncertain, but he had a gut feeling they had. Wandering over to his chair, the man sat down again, shrugging off his robe on the chair's back as he crossed one leg over the other, they as equally unnatural as his arms were. His gut feelings had always worked out before. He had made certain that his gut remained one of the few parts of his body left untouched by technology.

His city within a city would be getting new residents soon, he knew. For now, the shuttle burned.

End of Chapter 0
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