Beneath the bones of forgotten civilizations, something waited.
It was older than belief, older than the idea of mercy. Time could not starve it. Silence could not bury it. It simply waited, as the world above built and burned and rebuilt again.
It had known kings and monsters, saints and sinners — and it had devoured them all.
When the last of its hosts was swallowed by dirt and secrecy, it slept. Not dead. Not dormant. Patient.
The hunger did not fade. It learned. It listened to the earth's pulse, to the footsteps above. It remembered the taste of power and the whisperer of blood. It remembered what it was owed.
And when the pickax struck the buried stone — when metal met its shell — the hunger stirred.
A sound like breath escaped the ruin. Not air. Not life. Awakening.
Then — light. Flickering through centuries of dust.The first heartbeat not its own.
Terry didn't understand what he'd uncovered. Not yet. He only knew it called to him — a whisper beneath the ground, threading through his chest, like static. A promise.
He didn't find the artifact.
It found him.
—————-
Let me take you back a bit. The world was in turmoil. The people were forced to endure a worldwide pandemic, and the government took full advantage of it.
Much of the population had chosen to ignore what was occurring; others chose action. The year was 2023. Many felt the United States were preparing for another Civil War.
The government was frantically attempting to hold onto what power it could. Even the rats had begun abandoning ship. Yes — they had made some significant wins. They created a new dependency, within the medical world, by using their newly created wonder drug they were able to create a cure for the pandemic that had previously cost millions of lives. If the people had thought for just one moment, they would have asked how this was possible and what the side effects would be.
"Hey Terry! Get over here! This trench isn't going to dig itself."
No matter how long I've been doing this, it never gets any easier. And — I hate wearing this mask.
"No need to yell, I'm right here."
Sometimes I still wonder how we got in this mess.
Just after New Year's in 2023, a virus, no one had ever seen before swept through, killing millions. Cities became quarantine zones. Initially, the government imposed martial law, curfews, and checkpoints to ensure no one was sick.
As months turned to years, restrictions didn't lessen, even as infection rates declined. After all, the population had become more docile. People begin, wondering if the government caused the virus — many blamed them for their lost loved ones. People began disappearing for asking too many questions.
15 years after the initial outbreak, factions began rising up. Each taking over specific regions, eventually creating their own government systems. One of these factions were led by a bunch of religious fanatics, claiming the virus was actually sent to purify humanity. They called themselves The Sanctified Plague.