Note to the reader:
This thread will include many chapters of a story, each chapter will have varying numbers of installments. I appreciate any and all feedback, and if you want to get into a long discussion (weirdo) PM me! I also wanted to point out that the story will get more specific to Titan as time goes on, at the moment I'm using the very limited rumours we have to picture together a blurry world that'll become more clear in time. I decided I'd better just get this posted without doctoring it too much, else I would've never got it done.
Chapter 1: Utopia
He cracked a smile loaded with content, eyes traversing the golden hued room around him. Unique, naturally fractured objects lay strewn across the floor – rock, metals and wood. This moment of euphoria, a seeming foray into natures’ utopia was quickly vanquished as a shudder reverberated throughout his surroundings. He raised his head from the littered floor and all became clear. He had awoken in a room bathed in glorious sunlight, but the illusion of beauty had evaporated. The landscape of the room was fraught with destruction. Cracks crawled up the stone walls, metal struts from within the building stood bent over, forced into a position it was not purposed for and splinters of wood decorated the floor more enthusiastically than man trying to impress his leader.
Lifting his body upwards to lean against a wall he felt a huge pain, a shock of the mind as his memory began to drain away the haze. Immense emotion flooded him with intensity unknown to most. Pain and hope battled among themselves, both vying for victory over his head, his actions. In an attempt to deal with the feelings fretting every matter of his being he lifted his hands up to his head, pressured his skin and his azurite-tinged hair. Only through need he began to move about the room, finding himself shuffling out onto the balcony. He finally lifted his head from his hands, straightened his spine and strung back his shoulders.
He stood there for some time, dealing with himself internally while absorbing the bittersweet beauty of the city sprawling out graciously around him. For a familiar moment it felt like him, and the huge shadow cast from his form was at the centre of the city.
The sweetness of his surroundings was in the beauty. The furthest distance displayed lapping waves with barely visible white foam breaking against the shoreline. The closer distances, much of the city, displayed beautiful buildings of a grandiose nature. These constructs all owned smooth stone, a sandy light colouring and golden-toned. Different brilliant metals surged around the buildings, a universe-renowned architectural style – a crossroads between the natural and the beingmade.
The bitterness was hidden within the huge fractures that ripped through the city, gaping scars laying waste to brilliance, beauty and beings. Despite where he stood being the highest and most central view of the city, not a single other soul was to be seen. The streets lay empty; buildings lay to waste, huge house sized chunks of rock lay wrecked all along the broad and once cheerful, thriving roads.
The sun began beat down on his body, laden with form-built metals detailed with markings of extreme intricacy. He sighed and turned his back on the city to head inside from the balcony.
He speaks with clarity in his voice, “I cannot know. I cannot forget... I-... can understand.”
The ambiance of the city was graced with ticks of crumbling rock, plummeting to the ground miles away, and pangs of sly footsteps upon stone. Streaming, flooding and falling into the city from all angles shone a golden light, a powerful entity of innocence embracing the beauty of its binary opposite.
He stepped forth out of the sun-drenched room into a stairway that spirals down like a whirlpool caught in a serene cove. The stairs were crafted expertly and sharply, the same sand coloured stone to be found in much of the city. The wooden bannister seemed to melt down in a spiral as if someone had poured dark golden maple syrup down the entire railing. He began to step slowly and begrudgingly at first but these steps soon picked up, as they always had. His heart began to pump faster and with this so did his mind begin to churn quicker. The answer is not in the why, it is not in whom but it is in the how. He thought as he picked up speed, holding tightly to the bannister with his left hand and feeling the wall rush past him with his right. How did this come unto me? Unto the city?
He still was speeding to his destination, the stairs had long since ended but he continued with the enthusiasm of a predator on scent of its prey. His steps cracked down onto the stone floor, he appeared to be in a large tunnel lit servingly by the light from the city above, delivered through slots in the ceiling. Suddenly, he stopped. Light in this part of the tunnel was scarce, as this stone was far more ancient than any previously sped through by the man who now stood awestruck. He was presented before a door of imperfection, but it was far more beautiful than any building he had seen risen in this city.
His pupils began to widen as his eyes adjusted to the light, he lifted his hands to feel the stone, the cold shot through him with virulent energy. He continued to examine the door, pushing, pulling and sliding with his large, able hands. A sound began to resonate from the stone and he stood back, the door had started to open.
Tales of heroes steadfast and strong, brave and victorious, precise and skilful, line the walls. Dust is aloft in the air, floating calmly as it sinks back down towards the floor. Stirring in the dark, a figure emerges, tall, large and slow in its steps – the steps of an explorer. Light cascades behind him as he progresses through the room; his armour grasps and refracts pins of light, what little of it there is.
Fingers weave in and around the engravings that cascade down the walls, flecks of stone become loose and crumble, falling down to the ground with only just a tick of sound. Columns also line the circular walls of the room, titled and fractured from aeons of hardship, they seem to frame the centrepiece of the chamber, a large semi-spherical object.
The figure steps into the light that holds the centre, his azurite-tinged hair seems to glimmer in the dull, dust covered chamber. Standing tall, stoically and in mesmeric tandem with the images that line the giant object before him. In this object he sees tales of beauty, betrayal and even of guilt. These are the stories of the Kings, Emperors, Kahn, Tyrants and all leaders before him. One, however blessed in life can never cease amazement of other beings’ works and never cease wonder of other beings’ lives. These historical recounts of times long-passed serve to show that, in the words of this blue-haired being himself ~ “We see worlds through the eyes of others”.
I've tried to keep this all as linkable to information we've got/we're guessing at. Hopefully it'll sate you guys until we get anything more solid in the coming months.
The third and final installment is complete, I don't know when or how I will continue this story but It'll be good to let some more information come up and see where that can take the story.
Hopefully you enjoyed it, let me know if you did.