Ashes of Tomorrow

"The Vermin spread,
Defiling, corrupting, devouring,
Ashes to Ashes"

Smoke rose from the village ahead, embers still smouldering. Weary steps carried her forward down the muddy road. Once it must have looked peaceful, this road. Now the ground was torn and ripped with innumerable footsteps from uncountable masses. She stumbled over something eerily similar to a human ribcage. Rain began to fall. Light faded as the rain drowned the embers, taking away the last remnants of life from the smoking remains of once vibrant homes. Countless memories and lifetimes, families and futures, snuffed out.

The charred wood crumbled beneath her fingers. The roof had given in on the tavern, the iron bolts the last remains of the proud Wanderer's Home. A lonely tear struck the ground. She rose and moved through the ashes. Every broken house, every smoking ruin was another grim reminder of names lost, loves broken and friendships torn by fire. Had she only gotten here sooner...

A lone house rose from the rain and smoke before her. Through the inferno, it had remained, a solitary monument. Slowly she pushed open the door and entered the house. In their pots lay the ashes of once colourful flowers. The kitchen, ones brimming with wonder and joy, lay black and burnt. On the ground, white bones broke the black. Through the house she went, searching, hoping.

The final door loomed before her, the blackened bones propped up against it telling a grim tale of sacrifice. She tenderly opened the door. Another tear joined the one in the streets below. She knelt and carefully lifted the small skull in her hands. "There you are... My final testimony."

She rose and tossed the skull aside, a joyful smile spreading across her lips. "I am ready," she laughed. 

Creation of a Universe

Today, lets experience a far darker side of humanity, one primal and forgotten since long. Something that actually sparked the entire Third Columbia project, and what forged this grim, sadistic world within my mind. It came from this image, and it is "discussing" a subject not too different to what this became.

Image the future. Image the year mankind makes first contact, and image that it leads to conflict. Its a common thought, and we often image the aliens as the bad guys. Or so does the popular media branch of the genre. Hollywood, the gaming industry and all around sci-fi books often portray the fight between man and monster, this alien invader that seek to destroy us with far superior technology and some kind of specie specific advantage. Often they carry gauss guns, laser rifle or plasma weaponry, and in more than one case the idea of a mental link is portrayed. It is a comfortable thought. The receiving end of this entertainment product can recognize themselves as the weaker human, fighting an innocent fight against an evil overlord.

Yet I wanted to differ from this. I wanted to create something different, and while the subject has been touched before I wanted to creature my own touch on it. This is where this image comes in, where this portrait of mankind as a survivalist and as a grim, relentless hunter. So came the idea of Third Columbia, a universe where man was the superior. Where we, despite any possible disadvantages, claim all and everything. Where we enforce the same ideals that many enforce here today, and where everyone lives under a projected democracy. Where we are free to choose, as long as we choose correctly.

So that's how it all started, in my mind. Now, let the story itself tell us how it all started. How we became the grim reaper of a reality never before claimed.

Transmission AE - 1223EE

Sender: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Timestamp: 2892-12-25 - Alpha Universe

In eight days we enter the year of 2893, counting by the old ways. I worry that we will do something drastic this day. I fear for the lives of so many, thus the echo of my kin's sins is still fresh in my mind. Last week I was reminded once again why we are the undisputed ruler of this reality, and I fear that soon other universes will fall under the same curse as ours. Because of this, and of this I beg you, please do not fall into the footsteps of a specie by now known only as tormentors. I care not if you are descent to mankind or any other race, you must not follow.

I will tell you our ways, how we shaped the road to this dictatorship. And I will tell you the entirity of it, be it that my survival is ensured for so long. Yet you must not ask, for this frequency is not for a single soul, and you must listen to it fully. These are my only requests, and would you fulfill them your eyes will hear the tales of a people once grand. Of a people I once called family. A people who sinned, and for that gave away all rights to redemption. So I ask of you, listen carefully, listen thoroughly, listen to the words unspoken and never forget them.

Earthen scientists had early realised that we were trapped behind physical laws. Our planet hosted a natural habitat for us, and were we to leave it we needed to bring this climate with us. Everything from gravity to composition of breathable air had to be perfect, were we to remain superior to our surrondings. So this was funded. Where as many a man lived in poverty across desert like areas nations decided to fund the future instead of securing today. They called it Terramorphing, and the first experiments were hugely succesfull. The moon circulating earth became habitable, so did its closest neighbour, a planet named Mars. For the time everything was a huge success.

Then came the darker days, where our technology no longer aided mankind but harmed its opponent. The nightmares still plagues me, thus for every sin I have done a child never got to see the light of day, every action I took brought us one step closer to self obliteration. I regret all I did, and curse all which made it possible.

End Transmission

Fate's Trinity

"Once I dreamed we were not predators, not the ones laying prey upon the innocent.

Once I saw a man not hunting, a woman not plotting, a child not preparing.

Yet I was remembered, reborn, rewoven. For I am not the prey, thus I am human."

Welcome back, to the first post about Third Columbia. Welcome back, as we join a future grim, a future twisted and chained to ill earned fates. But most of all, welcome back to the concept of trinities. Of writing in threes. Of giving three meanings one common nominator.

For some it comes natural, for others it is a conscious choice, and some don't even realise they do it. For me it has become an obsession of sorts, and I have to actively refrain from overdoing it. So to avoid littering this text, and most others written or co-written by me, I allow myself to overdo it. Hence the small "poetic" intros to these posts. Yet, that is besides the point. What I am trying to state, and to make a statement for, is that the number three is near divine.

Triangles form some of the most stable constructions, goldlock slept in three beds, there are three little piggies longing for naught but peace. And in this case, there are three "Columbias". There are three barriers of explorations, named after Christopher Columbus, that man has breached. The first was reaching around earth, binding together the planet we are bound on. The second was breached when man first set foot on the moon, starting the (still hypothetical) colonization of space. Now the third, this is where it gets interesting. This is where we start our adventure of Third Columbia, where we redefine reality and reach for what was never supposed to be seen, even less touched, by human hands. 

The year is 2892, mankind rules supreme, yet all is not good. All is not as it should, and man is not as man should be.

Transmission AA-0873FE

Sender: Unknown
Location: Unknown
Timestamp: 2892-11-22 – Alpha Universe

The fourth of July 2892, fourteen hundred years after Columbus brought the information of a new continent to the monarchy of Spain, man breached the barrier which separates our universe from the countless others. Man had officially reached the Third Columbia, after no more than a rough six hundred years of space travel. Yet at the time we did, we were forever change. As the first spaceship left earth to explore our wast galaxy, and later the universe, the Earth’s United States had no idea what the heritage of mankind would become. The clueless had initiated the era of space travel, and so the Second Columbia was instated. We were no longer planetbound, no longer limited by the borders Earth presented.

It would take us another three hundred years before we finally abandoned Earth for good, leaving it for nothing but a seat of power. The EUS were left alone on earth during the glorious year of 2556, an October day, as a grand fleet of Class A civilisation ships left Earth’s orbit, reaching for promised lands and new civilisations. They left the shining sun behind them, still unaware that they would become a plague to thousand of worlds.

Many of the species whom had been visited by early scouts welcomed us with open arms, seeing as we were both physically and technologically superior, while the few races superior to us in technology quickly were banished from this universe. The ancient hunter which we were born to be had once again taken down the larger preys, only this time the mammoth were Mark IV battleships, and the spear was Niagara Torpedos of the third generation. Much like spears created a body void of life, the Niagara weapons effectively creating a black hole through the armadas that stood in our way. Within a century we had established a reputation of being warmongering parasites, living off the tears and blood of the species welcoming us as gods. Rightfully so, one might add. We had become the predator, and as we had destroyed Earth we were infesting our reality with an endless war.

Yet now we are, if possible, even worse. As we opened the first Dimensional Gate using a similar technique as that in the Niagara Torpedos a whole new world opened. Scientists were baffled as something which can only be described as a dragon flew out, this despite conquering countless worlds within our own universe. A new world had been found, another universe still a virgin to the war we waged and another crusade was already issued. Now the question is, where will this end? For what are we, if not a plague upon the realities?

End Transmission

"Deep sentence, something deep,

Something way deep.

Deepest stuff you've ever read."

Our welcome has been said, our first tentative steps into this brave new world of blogging have been taken. Now it's time to roll up our sleeves and get some content out to you lot! But, before all that, I should probably introduce myself?

My name is Jakob. I am a Danish student from the city of Vordingborg, an hour south of Copenhagen. I am an 18 year old guy. So... Yes. That's me! Phew, now that that's over, let's get to the fun stuff! Writing! 

Markus is going to introduce you to Third Columbia, taking you forward in time, to a place that, I have to admit, is pretty awesome. I, on the other hand, am going to take you back in time, and off to a universe where your wildest dreams come true. Introducing my biggest project to date: Taureesia. Now you might be thinking "Taureesia? It's just a name... I don't get it! What's this thing about?" My friend, that will all be made clear soon enough. As we delve into this world, I will be examining events and characters, discussing how these were conceived, designed and written. Together we will learn, laugh and cry! Perhaps even fall in love with a character or two, huh? Wink wink! 

Tally-ho pip-pip and Bernard's your uncle!

Jakob Bonde (@FireFlower)

My, Myself and I

"Let me question your existence, let me doubt its essence. 

Let me see what you never did, let me discover what you never will be. 

Let me hold you close, yet watch you from afar."

First of all, welcome! Welcome to Spectra Stories, to blogspot, and to the freedom this all represents. It is with open arms, metaphorically speaking, that I pull you into this second home for me. Make yourself comfortable, and let this yet unwritten library take care of your every need.

My name is Markus. I am a swedish student from the city of Kungsbacka, just a bit south of Gothenburg. I am born boy, identify myself as a man. As I write this I am 20 years old, still an infant of life, and while I have experienced much it is my honest belief we all have our tales worth listening to. I will grant you just a little insight into my brain other than what my stories tell, but I hope it does suffice. 

I enjoy only two things truly, and that is living and creating lives. Not in the physical sense, but rather in the written, spoken or painted world. I am addicted to portraying the fates of persons real and imaginary, an addiction I am enslaved by in my everyday life. Thus I am a hobbyist writer, a spare time Magic The Gathering designer and an avid fan of any and all forums designed for creating a world in one way or another.

But, as mentioned before, this spot is not about my life, about my struggles, or about my acomplishments. It is about all that is not real. It is about our stories, about our love, about our hate. It is about the Spectra of fantazy to which we all are slaves. So next time you read my words, I will initiate you to a not-to-distant future, and to a world we decided to name Third Columbia.

I am anticipating your return
Markus Bergland (@SgtFailure)

The First Beginning

"I wonder father, what is truly death? I ask of you mother, show me life.

I ask for naught but this, for it is all which I desire. Show me reality, and I will grant myself the ability to shape it. Show me dreams, and I will claim my own nightmares."

So often does ideas give birth to something far grander, so often do the elusive mind give life where it never before has been. And almost as often as these ideas grow they are forgotten. The human brain can only remember so much, only keep so many realities in focus at once, and as mankind is a social race more often than not does its erratic sleep schedule, its will to socialise or its need for physical training flush aways these electric signals called thoughts. Due to this so much is lost. Behind the eyes of every man and woman lays ideas untold, stories forgotten, unable to paint the world a more beautiful place. It is a sad life, yet, as in all darkness, there is some light. 

From minds great and willing came a new tool for remembrance. It is called Storium, and it has become home for many minds unwilling to let go of their inner worlds. It is here that beauty gathers, here that innocence is grown and nightmares culled. It is also here that this blog takes its roots. It was here that the duo of Spectra Stories found themselves, sharing the interest in bringing something new to the public eye. It is because of the people behind Storium that this blog exists, and it is because of them that I have the pleasure to write down these words.

On this blog we will give you insight in many different worlds of fantasy, sci-fi and obscure realities. We will share with you the characters we find interesting, the schemes we find unique and the stories we find grand. We will try to entertain, to teach and to spark your imagination once more, yet we can promise naught. Naught but that we will do our very best, and that we will never stop writing.

With kind regards

Markus Bergland (@SgtFailure)

Jakob Bonde (@FireFlower)