Foundered

Yarachmiel I: Gathering of the Souls

It was a regular spring morning, like all others. Yarachmiel inhaled the pleasant air of the peaceful countryside, seeping into the glamour of the scenery. It was relatively quiet. Not much had happened that could be taken wind of by the denizens of the city, except for rumours of a disease outbreak which caused people to turn hostile towards one another.

According to the rumours, it was all an offensive measure implemented by the former United States of America (which now, torn apart by civil war, is but a shadow of its former glory) which oversaw the launch of plague missiles upon the most bustling cities of the Brazilian Empire and the South African Empire.

The plague caused by it not only killed whoever it came in contact with, but also raised them from the dead. In turn, this caused the near obliteration of South America and Southern Africa. Though at first it seemed to be a joyous tiding for the Allied forces, things quickly got out of hand, eventually seeing disease outbreaks all around the world.

Though Yara was certain he had not been infected by some disease as this, there was no harm in getting a check-up. Fortunately for him, a medical centre had been set up in the nearby fort, about a few miles south of his home city.

Why this ancient fort was chosen was but unknown to Yara, perhaps the authorities were afraid of being under assault, or perhaps because this was the closest free establishment to the research centres. Whatever be, this ex-prison-facility was fairly fortified and inhabited by qualified doctors and engineers, so Yara felt like this would be an interesting opportunity to meet intelligent individuals.

There stood the fort, towering ominously above the fog-banks which encircled the riverside with high walls glimmering in the sun, a gatehouse readied to block off unwanted visitors. Fortunately, since he wasn't going to besiege the fort, his car was allowed to simply roll over the wooden drawbridges and enter the fort. From inside the fort looked even more beautiful: a few hotels capable of housing hundreds, a barracks, a hospital, a chapel, an armory, and a lot more.

"Welcome pal," a guard greeted him, "please park your car over at the stable to your left. Then go to the hospital and get a ticket. You can walk around doing whatever you want until your number comes up. Then you'll be checked and then are free to go."

"Uh, so my stay here is going to be that short?" he wondered to himself whilst he parked the car and got out. The fort seemed to be pretty busy: there was a doctor treating fevers and blisters, a blacksmith was forging nails, carpenters repairing the old and worn-out wooden equipment, instructor teaching people to use guns, soldiers on patrol ... the whole fort was preoccupied.

"Hello, I've been assigned for this check-up thing," he approached a counter, "where might I get a ticket?"

"Here," said a female clerk, "you must wait your turn, feel free to walk around the castle until the time comes. I'm sure you'll find plenty of things to do."

"Thank you," he replied, walking out with the ticket, "hmm... #122, huh?"

Looking up at a large electronic board above the hospital, he found it was just #44 now. Certainly he had a long time to wait, by the looks of it around an hour or two. So there he was, left to his own accord to roam around the castle for an hour. Not like he didn't like it though, there were many things to be seen.

One of the most interesting things all around were perhaps men in metal suits walking by with those weapons you see on guards of the Vatican City. Halberds, he thought, the weapon of a medieval knight, now mostly a ceremonial item.

"Damn, these robots give me creeps," he heard a guy comment beside him, "the people say they're just for decoration and completely inept otherwise... but I don't trust these bots, you know. Nobody can say what they're programmed with."