Northern Hares

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There it is, on the lectern up against the wall made of concrete like everything else, every other corner of this bunker that has cheated the test of time frequently. Cold. I don't do it, but my hands slip under what must be the most curious collection of pages bound by worn leather that feels exactly as I thought it would. This is the word of the father, the biggest illusion around here. The only thing real about this book are all the people in search of it.

It's funny, most of what I know about this is what I've been told by other people who've never really approved of New Eden related subjects. Everything I've seen and experienced has not at all resembled what they say, they say that this place lies but who's really lying?

I take the book, I have no time to feel regret or imagine what they'd think when I arrive back not having succeeded in my efforts and with 'the word', as it's called, in my possession. I try to realign myself with my senses and surely make my way between these walls until greeted by gorgeous natural light. It's a stern greeting as it's natural light you see at the beginning of a long night. Colder.

Can't get much better than this; chilled moving of the water, typical yet unfamiliar rustling through the thick of the trees and grass but no birds chirping because they're asleep. instead, there are occasional grasshopper rattles and distant howling of the indigenous wolves. All these sounds paired with the moist feeling of the ground under my soles takes me back to a time where I was scared of spending nights out in the woods. I still am - but now I'm alone, with a book and equipment that isn't supposed to be brought out this far.

 I still am - but now I'm alone, with a book and equipment that isn't supposed to be brought out this far

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Having walked multiple paths it's become clear that time has no place here either. It's foggy but visible and gets progressively denser the further north I venture. The map servers as much of a purpose here as you would've guessed and it's been dark for so long.

I feel for the book again and to my surprise, it's the same as it was when I last checked my satchel. After the bombs dropped, a familiar group of people settled up here with nothing - no form of pre-collapse technology as if with the intention of leaving what they were behind. whether it was an instruction from God to them or they finally realized just how mortifying they were. What they did to us.

Either way, I have their book. I'm sure their leader is just a man but I don't know if he's with them or has gone further up north. I do know he's aware that his book book is missing, by now surely.

A weird feeling in my stomach turns me from my original path and the main road, straying me into the trees and bushy foliage It fascinated me that even after everything on the surface was at one stage a smoldering how mass followed by months or maybe even years of ash, there are flowers blooming everywhere, stretching fields of green and pink burring all the ugly pre-collapse infrastructure. Hope County's too good to stay a wasteland, to beautiful. It has yet to stop fighting.

There aren't any flowers blooming around here however, in this thick, dank forestry. In which lies a view of a wooden structure tucked away behind unbroken branches and leaves. After getting a better view, I recognize distinct features resembling an ageless fortress, that of a fantasy story but unlike the one in the fantasy story this one has no immediate theme, It's damaged and bloodied at it's piercing walls which are made of strong wood with the posture of concrete. It must be the New Edener's home. They'll kill me if I stay too close for too long.

Why could they not have just sent anyone else? Anyone would have defended themselves better than I can. All anyone needs to do to survive until thirty would be to either make a religion of being as far away from any sort of danger, be a good shot, or know your environment. I can't say I'm good at any one of these but-

pop! A cloud of smoke bursts out an expands rapidly from the bottom left corner of my view. I try to remember my last position and not make any sound but I let out a few coughs. It's so hard to breathe. I've never been this scared, my guts are inwrought with fear. I need to put it back, return this book to the bunker. I quickly swing my head around to try and see as much as I can without moving my body. Now there's a pain that settles in before the smoke settles down. The shock jolts me into submission reminding me to stay put. Not another second flew by when the realization hit. An arrow wedged into my back, it feels so much worse than a bullet - I can't move.

The smoke finally goes away. Mom? please take my gloves. Your hands, they must be-
so
cold.


Northern Hares: a tribute to Far Cry New DawnTempat cerita menjadi hidup. Temukan sekarang