Kingslayer: Apocalypse

Please, remain calm, the end has arrived
We cannot save you, enjoy the ride
This is the moment you've been waiting for
Don't call it a warning, this is a war
=KINGSLAYER: APOCALYPSE=
===<What do you do when the world ends? Who's left to believe in? Who's left to protect you? When there's nobody left to turn to, look to The Organization for Preserving Social Order (OPSO) In our new post apocalyptic society the OPSO is your best hope for protection. The Endless Desert is a dangerous place full of dangerous things and groups, but inside and OPSO sanctioned Haven you are safe.>===
"Inside an OSPO Haven you're safe." Roman thought, shaking his head as he looked up at the large blue and grey poster pasted to the city wall. "Its always the simplest lies that others believe in." The tall azure colored IceWing contemplated a smiling yellow dragon on the poster. He could tell that the expression was a forced one. It didn't quite reach the eyes, so it felt off putting. Disingenuous. There were hundreds of similar posters scattered around the Haven all showing similarly "happy" looking dragon mascots posing in similar ways, and always with a similar underlying message. "If you're not inside a Haven, and under the control of the OPSO then you're doomed to die." It was brilliant in a way, what the OPSO had done. Taking advantage of dragon's fear in a chaotic and dangerous time by saying that they, and only they could fix things. And create an alternative that was so bad, or at least had the possibility to be bad that if you didn't do as instructed you would have to be suicidal. Grudgingly Roman had to admit that the OPSO leaders where masters when it came to social manipulation, or as they would say it "Social Order". From a satchel Roman produced a can of red spray paint. Giving it a good shake, Roman drew a thick line diagonally across the poster. Then another two, making sure to carry his lines from the poster and onto the wall. Roman returned the can to its original resting place within his satchel and took a step back to admire his work. It wasn't so much about what he'd actually drawn, but rather what it symbolized: anarchy. The Havens were anything but what their names implied. They were overcrowded. Squalid and neglected hyper militarized cages for the poor in dragon society. The crime rate grew higher every day, murder and drugs common place. Everyone was shady or desperate. The "police force" were essentially the rich's personal death squads, armed to the teeth and just as amoral as the criminals they were supposed to be fighting. They killed and imprisoned indiscriminately. If you committed a crime, were thought to have committed a crime or been associated with anything illegal, you were liable to be executed or incarcerated and tortured. You didn't have to be doing anything crime related. Just lookin at an officer wrong could get you beaten or imprisoned. The entire situation is made worse because citizens of the Havens have the ability to report each other for illegal activity, real or supposed. Never had a system been more abused than that one. The Havens were just generally awful places to live, but everyone was used to it. OPSO had done their job right in painting the Endless Desert in such a bad light, that even the horrific nature of the Havens were pleasurable by comparison. They did have an easier time of it as the world beyond the Haven walls was in most ways just as bad as they were said to be. 
Since the Second Brightest Night and the end of the War of SandWing Succession decades ago the continent of Pyrrhia and the world at large had become a vast scorched wasteland. The reason was that the star that the dragon planet orbited had collided with another star. It had actually happened millions of years ago but the planet had only felt the effects and the doubled output of heat and light on the Second Brightest Night where four celestial bodies illuminated the skies. The continent quickly burned as the increased heat from the twin star. Vegetation was set on fire, snow and ice melted, mountains collapsed, the oceans shrunk. The world became a vast desert. Thousands died in the first few weeks. Eventually what was left of the dragon tribes worked to rebuild their lives and their world. It was in this climate that OPSO entered the stage offering sanctuary from the deadly heat and dust storms. Roman looked over his shoulder and then up at the sky and the skyscrapers rising up around him. He'd lingered around here for too long. As he exited the dead end alleyway Roman caught one last look at the poster he'd vandalized. Society was broken in the Havens. The poor wallowed in crime and neglect while the rich and well off pretended everything was fine and let their death squads do as they please to sweep problems under the rug. Some day everything would come to a head, the powder keg would explode and war would break out. The already delicate balance that the Havens lived in would tip and descend into anarchy. Roman didn't exactly like call himself an instigator, but he certainly was trying his hardest to cause the balance to tip. He didn't do anything too crazy, just painting a poster or two whenever he saw one. His own little acts of rebellion. 
As Roman walked down the poorly lit and cracked streets on the ground level of the Haven a loudspeaker somewhere above his head blared a siren and a recorded voice shouted, "ATTENTION! ATTENTION! CITIZENS ARE TO RETURN TO THEIR DOMICILES BEFORE THE 1200 CURFEW. THOSE IN VIOLATION OF THIS CURFEW ARE SUBJECT TO 8-10 WEEKS INPRISONMENT. THIS IS YOUR ONE AND ONLY WARNNING. ATTENTION! ATTENTION!" Roman swore. If the warnings were going off then it was 1150. He'd misjudged how long he'd been out for. His apartment was to far away even flying at top speed for the him to make it back in time. There were also no tram stations close by. Even if there had been, the trams were the first places the OPSO Officers would check. Roman began trying the handles of the nearest doors. If one was unlocked he could wait out the curfew in there. Roman was starting to get desperate as he tried the handle of a tenth door when luckily unlocked. "Thank the moons." Roman though as he went inside and closed the door behind him. The IceWing found himself standing in complete darkness. Roman tapped wrist and a small rectangle of light appeared on his left wrist. 
Pressing a the rectangular screen a few more times, the light output doubled. Roman was thankful that he'd brought his communicator with him. As useful as the wrist mounted device was, Roman found the older models too bulky, even as stripped down as his was. Holding his arm so that the communicator's screen faced away from Roman, he shone it's light around the space he currently stood in. As he'd hoped Roman was standing inside a small hallway with 10 doors on his left and right. Roman had entered one of the thousands of apartment skyscrapers of the Haven. It was similar to the one that Roman actually lived in. Every apartment skyscraper, at least the ones that ordinary citizens lived in were all identical. hundreds of floors of 20 rooms and a stairwell at the back. The space beneath the stairwells were hollow and just large enough for a dragon to lay down in. This was common knowledge so there was a 50/50 chance that there was already someone sleeping beneath the stairs directly before Roman. If that was so then Roman would go up a level, and so on. If there was someone beneath the stairs in every level, Roman was screwed then. He wasn't worried though. There were so many skyscrapers and they were so large that while there was still horrible overcrowding, it wasn't nearly bad enough yet that there wouldn't be one stairwell left unoccupied. Guided only by the light of his communicator Roman followed the stairs up to around level 32. He'd been unsuccessful and hadn't found any empty spots yet. 32 seemed to be his lucky number though as the stairwell was empty. Roman ducked under the overhang of the stairs and sat down. It wouldn't be the first time the IceWing hadn't made it back to his apartment in time, and probably wouldn't be the last. Setting an alarm for 0700 the next day Roman did his best to get comfortable, using his satchel as a pillow and drifted of to sleep.
===<Is your neighbor doing something illegal? Are they meeting with others you don't recognize? Are they breaking curfew? If the answer is yes to any of these, then it is your duty as a Haven citizen to report them! Find the nearest OPSO Officer and do your civic do diligence. You're helping to make the Havens better places to live and OPSO thanks you for your contributions. Never forget: The Endless Desert is a dangerous place full of dangerous things and groups, but inside and OPSO sanctioned Haven you are safe.>===
"Inside an OSPO Haven you're safe." Nightstalker mused, shaking his head as he looked at a grey and blue poster pasted to the wall. "Its always the simplest lies that others believe in." The sable black NightWing regarded a red colored dragon on the poster. He was walking into a OPSO Officer hub, presumably to report his neighbor for criminal activity. Nightstalker had always thought that the little cartoony characters in the OPSO propaganda posters were stupid. He thought the whole idea of the posters was stupid in general, but it was the little mascots that bothered him the most. Their expressions always seemed so forced and over exaggerated. Their fakeness made Nightstalker feel slightly uncomfortable. He couldn't exactly tell why though. Someone touched Nightstalker's shoulder and he jumped slightly, quickly diverting his attention from the poster to whomever had been trying to get his attention. "Bit jumpy we are to day, eh?" Nightstalker's friend and fellow OPSO Officer, Kanji greeted him with a knowing smile. 
"Hey Kanji." Nightstalker said in lieu of an answer.
"Its 0350, we're supposed to be getting ready for patrol. Why are you just standing around? Someone's going to yell at you if you don't get going." The tan colored SandWing said nudging Nightstalker. Nightstalker checked his communicator. 0352. The NightWing hadn't even opened his locker yet. He really should get a move on. Nightstalker sighed. 
"I'll be ready in five. Just don't let anyone leave without me, ok?" Kanji nodded.
"Sure thing." As Nightstalker opened the door to the staging room he again thought of the little poster. When he left for patrol he would take the poster with him, dispose of it in a trash bin somewhere. As supposedly effective as they were Nightstalker decided that he hated them and would do his best to get rid of as me of the stupid things as possible. If anyone said anything about it, he'd just blame anarchists. Blaming anarchists and criminals was a get out of jail free excuse for almost anything. "Heh. Get out of jail free." Nightstalker smiled slightly at the thought. Nobody gets out of jail for free, or at all under the watchful eye of the OPSO. And Nightstalker was helping make sure of it. 
"You good Nightstalker?"
"Roger." Nightstalker said. The static pops of the short wave helmet radio hissed in his ears. Through the tinted visor of his helmet Nightstalker watched the Haven's skyline whip past as green, blue, yellow, and white bands. After a while they all would just blur together into a solid block of light until the tram slowed and everything returned to normal.
"You've been pretty quiet, if there's something on your mind you know you can tell me."
"There's nothing Kanji. I'm just tired." It wasn't exactly a lie. Nightstalker hadn't slept at all yesterday, but that wasn't why he wasn't being as talkative as usual. Nightstalker was still thinking about the little poster, now folded up inside a pocket in his uniform. Nightstalker's grandfather had told him a story once about what the world had been like before the Second Brightest Night and the Endless Desert. His grandfather told him about fighting in the War of SandWing succession and how everyone lived in fear but they could at least go where they wanted and do what they wanted. He even told Nightstalker what it was like when he had been a young dragonet before the war. How everyone had been so happy. Looking around at the world of the Havens Nightstalker couldn't see anything remotely like that. The Havens were awful places to live. So awful that there were little posters instructing you to report your neighbors to a police force that would most likely kill them, and everyone was mostly ok with it. Everyone was so conditioned to be ok with it, reminded 24/7 with posters and militaristic regulation that this was their only option and that they should get used to it or die. For years Nightstalker never questioned it. Saw and followed the posters. Killed criminals and dissenters. Why now, looking at that stupid cartoony red dragon day after day did he begin to wonder why. OPSO might have built the havens to save dragon kind, but to Nightstalker it seemed like they only wanted to control everyone and everything. Take advantage of the entire world so that the ones higher up on the social chain could live the carefree lives that they did before the Second Brightest Night, and the War of SandWing Succession. This questioning was what the anarchists did, The ones who wanted to destroy OPSO. It was like Nightstalker was being split in half. A part of him was now beginning to question and desire to fight against the OPSO and the corruption and oppression of the Havens, and that was conflicting with the part of him that was conditioned to do everything the OPSO told him to. Nightstalker didn't know what to do or how to feel, so he sat in silence trying to figure it all out. When one begins to question the world order, one begins to question everything especially himself. A loud screeching sound became audible to Nightstalker, cutting through his thoughts like a hot knife. The tram was coming to a halt. 
"Listen up everyone. You know the drill, get into your groups and get to work. Meet back at the trams at 0700, and be on time because you will be left behind. Remember anything is suspicious activity and you have the right to do as you please." The words of the CO blared from Nightstalker's helmet speakers. She sounded more and more bored each time she spoke the pre patrol instructions. Nightstalker stood up and checked the charge of his repeating cannon. The bulky weapon was standard issue for OPSO Officers. With a maximum capacity of 80 rounds, low recoil, and high rate of fire, the stubby riffle had the nickname of crowed control as that was it was best at. Absolutely devastating in CQC and decent enough in LRC, many OPSO Officers swore by the gun, Nightstalker among them. Satisfied with his weapon's condition, Nightstalker returned it to its usual spot on his back, just between his wings. Nightstalker also checked his sidearm and also satisfied with it's condition returned it to its holster on his chest.
"Ready Nightstalker?" Kanji asked, having also just finished a weapons check. 
"Yeah, we're going to Residential Commons 257 this time right?"
"No, we've got Commons 260" Nightstalker was confused. 
"Why the change?"
"I don't know. Does it really matter though? We'll do the patrol and be back at the Hub, and Qatar and Ripper will tell us all about how on their patrol they were attacked by anarchists and got in a fire fight or something. It'll be boring as usual."
"Ok I guess. Maybe tonight will be different." Nightstalker said. 
"I doubt it." Kanji said. He nodded his head towards the now open tram doors. "Lets go, and don't forget to turn on colors." Nightstalker nodded and followed Kanji out of the tram and onto the street. Once outside the NightWing pressed a button on the side of his helmet turning on green colored lights on his shoulders, tail, wings and chest. 
"You want to be on point?" Nightstalker asked. Kanji nodded. 
"Yeah sure, lets get going. The night wains." The armored SandWing began walking into the darkness of the night, the orange lights on his armor the only illumination as the tram and other groups began to depart. Dutifully Nightstalker followed him. 
For a while the duo walked in silence, walking down every street and trying every door. An unlocked door often meant criminal activity. The occasional street light the only thing breaking the darkness beyond the dim orange glow from their colors. It was 0300 and it looked like Kanji's prediction of a quit and boring patrol appeared as if it would come true when they happened upon an unlocked door. 
""
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