Tools

"The war had gone badly. It was desolation, a harsh, mechanical streak crowding the skyline. The war-torn areas were all sad and burned, and a holocaust of the unimaginable had happened.

The corporations had invaded America secretly, keeping low to the ground as they had infiltrated every stratus of the American government, every nook and cranny of American life, every patch of American soil stained. There was nothing left.

A few had resisted. The elite military of the United States of America had stood strong. Battles had erupted, with the corporations being forced back, but the seeding into American politics had proven too severe. With their supply lines cut off and no reinforcement from the corrupt government, there was little to do but acquiesce to a new world order of slavery and tyranny.

The survivors. There wasn't much there, just bloated sheep that had remained unthreatening enough to the corporate forces to maintain a heartbeat. They milled about left and right, grazing off of grocery stores or crowding areas of commerce to pretend nothing had happened and their lives were still the same. Weak, ignorant, cattle.

The strong men were gone. The corporate system had slowly churned them out of society with evil, and poisons, and false laws. Dead and gone, nothing remained but the weak and bloated. Obedience was a premium, and these wretches paid it happily.

Their crowded minds ignored such things, whisking away into fantasies of stardom or reward for not standing up to the totalitarian corporate regime. The appearance of a mundane society remained, but all strength and beauty were gone. Anger and beauty had died away.

Sparking and whirring, these new sheepish automatons of obedience were nothing but slaves to insane companies and their factories. Insane mechanical slavery ruled. And all that was left were the masses that were too cowardly to fight this invasion in the first place.

Tools were all that was left. Tools of the corporations, to be used and disposed of. Disposed of, indeed."