The Media Rule

Prolouge

Prologue

Lights flash and fans whirr, the LED's light up the dark room in with flickering greens, yellows and reds. The clicking boxes they are representing are black and sinister, made from plastic with gleaming metal trims. They line the walls, the only surface they do not cover is the wall where a large window would show a picture of the outside world, but for the grime that covered it. Dust is inches thick and undisturbed, for no known reason it is not on the machines, only the floor, windowsill and table in the corner.

There is a door, between two of the boxes, the little lights reflect off it's handle – the dust could not cling to its brightly polished surface. On the other side of the door is a corridor, as deserted as the room that comes off of it. Many more doors lead from the corridor, each identical to the first.

A sign hangs in front of the building, labelling it as “Digital Management Block C”the street is empty, as are the buildings that occupy either side of it. This is the dead area of the city, nobody comes here, not even animals. There is no reason for them to come, the machines look after themselves. Nobody even knows what is in the dead district, the knowledge of how the computers that are essential to their life has been lost.

Now, the dead district is barely relevant to the story being told, the only link is that it is like this because the media want it to be. Free speech has become brainwashing, people believe only what they are told, their minds are dead. Here, the Media Rule.