1565 A Cabin In the Mountain
?
She''s a Killer Queen
Gunpowder, gtine
Dynamite with aser beam
Guaranteed to blow your mind
Anytime
Rmended at the price
Insatiable an appetite
Wanna try?
?
Within the dimly lit confines of the bar, the ambiance is steeped in nostalgia, as melodies from the era preceding the Fall filled the air.
The establishment is a microcosm of life''s various facets, drawing an eclectic mix of patrons.
At the bar counter, individuals nursed their drinks, each ss a vessel for their preferred elixirs of choice.
The clinking of ice cubes resonated through the room, punctuating the air with a subtle rhythm.
Tensions eased with every sip; the world''s worries momentarily set aside.
Around wooden tables scattered throughout the space, people engaged in animated conversations.
Friends reconnected, exchanging stories andughter, their voices rising and falling in animated cadence.
Acquaintances struck up new connections, the hum of chatter a testament to the human desire for connection.
Amidst the lively tapestry of interactions, there were those who preferred the sce of a quiet corner.
These individuals sought refuge in the hushed embrace of shadows, watching the world go by in contemtive solitude.
And then, there was the lone figure upying a chair near the barstools.
"What a mess," he grumbled, his voice carrying the weight of someone who had seen their fair share of chaos.
His deep sigh seemed to echo
This imposing man stood tall at six feet three, and he has muscr
His very presence exuded an aura of strength and tenacity.
His unruly ck hair framed his face, its untamed nature almost mirroring the wildness of his spirit.
It cascaded down, giving him an almost rebellious appearance.
A scruffy beard, flecked with touches of white, adorned his chin, adding an air of ruggedness to his demeanour.
The intensity in his piercing eyes is unmistakable, a window into his unyielding determination.
When those eyes narrowed in anger, those who knew him well could sense the storm brewing beneath his gruff exterior.
Dressed in a simple ensemble of a ck tank top and jeans, his attire reflected his no-nonsense personality.
A chain bracelet adorned his wrist, a subtle token of personal significance.
This man is a regr in this bar.
But even though he is regr no one knows him that much. And no one really cares.
In this bar, familiarity is a fleeting concept.
People came and went like whispers in the wind, their stories hidden beneathyers of the past.
The man, a regr among strangers, embodied this sense of anonymity.
Nobody here truly knew him, nor did they particrly care to.
Each patron carried their own stories, and in this ce, today''s acquaintance could be tomorrow''s distant memory.
It is a world where faces and names blurred into a kaleidoscope of fleeting encounters, where stories whispered in hushed conversations were as ephemeral as the next ss raised in toast.
This man sighed again
He looks at the television that is on top of the bar.
There is another name for it but this man like to call it television. It is the term of the Old World.
Most people refer to the world before the Fall as the Old World.
The Fall had irrevocably altered the lives of those who had witnessed it first-hand.
Nearly a decade had passed, marked by the ebb and flow of triumphs and failures.
The survivors of those tumultuous years had developed a unique resilience, a gritty determination, and a stark outlook on life.
For the generation born after the Fall, life, while still far from easy, the life experience is a bit different
This new world that they brought into at least offered a semnce of protection and structure.
They had something to fall back on, someone to rely upon.
It was a different story for the First Generation, those who had borne the full brunt of the apocalypse.
They had experienced the unravelling of the old world and the chaotic birth of the new, carving their existence from the raw, unforgivingndscape of a world forever transformed.
When the Fall first descended upon them, it was an apocalyptic shockwave that left everyone reeling.
Those initial days were nothing short of madness.
The dead had risen in ghastly, zombified forms, and colossal monstrosities roamed the skies, the oceans, and even the depths of the earth itself.
It was a surreal nightmare, and nobody had a ybook for dealing with it.
Complete and utter destruction gave way to unparalleled chaos.
The orderly lives they had known were shredded in an instant.
They stood by helplessly as the very foundations of civilization crumbled around them, power structures disintegrated, and billions of lives were extinguished like candle mes in the path of a ferocious gale.
The new generation, those who came into this world after the Fall, may not lead lives as cushy as those before the disaster, but they do enjoy a semnce of civilization.
In the present day, when colossal monsters rear their heads, local armed forces mobilize to confront and defeat these behemoths.
The scourge of zombified humans has been all but eradicated; society now possesses a deeper understanding of what befalls those unfortunate souls, and they have developed coping mechanisms for many of the world''s challenges.
While these titanic beasts and monstrous threats still pose considerable danger, it''s a far cry from the utter helplessness they experienced in those grim days following the Fall.
"A different time, a different world'' the man said. He sighed as he said these words.
Words that carry a weight of nostalgia.
"Old Lou"
The man nodded.
Despite his name, his visage did not betray his age.
He had recently reached the Disk Formation level, a transformation that revitalized him both inside and out.
Once an elderly figure teetering on the brink of death, he now boasted a muscr physique and the same rugged handsomeness he had possessed in his youth.
Lou is the man that sat on the chair in front of the bar.
"I miss sport" he suddenly said.
John the bartenderughed
"I would like that too. But with the war always going on every few years, no one had the chance to organize anything. What''s your sport?" John the Bartender asked
"Football"
"A fellow football fan" Lou chuckles
Then, he shifted his gaze to the television, still ring news about the Republic, and couldn''t help but shake his head.
He sighed, cing a few energy stones on the bar before rising from his seat.
"Turning in for tonight?"
Lou just nod. On the stage, there is a young man that ising up that is about to y the piano.
Lou knows the kid.
Its Salvatore kid, Billy. The piano man, he thought to himself
He looks around and thought to himself
"It is a pretty good crowd for tonight" But he has no intention to listen to the piano man tonight.
Lou made his way to the entrance, donning his hat and slipping into his coat.
As he stepped out of the bar, he was greeted by a wintryndscape.
Woosh!
The wind howled, pushing the falling snow into swirling patterns. Everything around him is nketed in pristine white.
12:24
He couldn''t help but sigh and mutter, "This damn weather," as he braced himself against the chill.
in pristine white.
He couldn''t help but sigh and mutter, "This damn weather," as he braced himself against the chill.
Lou trudged through the snow, each step leaving a deep imprint on the whitendscape.
Above him, the snow continued to fall from the grey skies.
Every now and then, a brilliant sh of purple lightning would cut through the heavens, followed by the deep rumble of thunder that reverberated through thend.
The territory he found himself in was nothing short of peculiar.
Here, the weather is in a perpetual state of snowfall, no matter the season.
And as the day waned into evening, the skies would often unleash their fury, painting the heavens with streaks of vivid purple lightning, their brilliance contrasting starkly against the bleakness of thendscape.
Despite the unusual weather, the people who lived in thisnd had grown ustomed to its idiosyncrasies, forging a way of life amid the constant snowfall and sporadic storms that defined their world.
Before settling in this remotend, Lou had done his fair share of research.
Survival in the post-Fall world demanded knowledge, and he was keen to uncover the secrets and peculiarities of the ces he ventured into.
His new haunt, the bar, was no exception.
The owner of the establishment is a figure known simply as Eriksen.
Despite the youthful visage he disyed to him, Eriksen is rumoured to be around ny years old, implying that he had lived as an old man through the tumultuous years of the Fall.
The mysteries behind his transformation from elderly to youthful were a topic of spection, but Lou didn''t dwell on it too much.
What he did know was that Eriksen had achieved the realm of a Disk Formation leveler, which exined not only his youthful appearance but also his confidence in running a bar in a ce where the weather was as unpredictable as the world itself.
This remote establishment is a refuge from the chaos outside, and Lou is content to be a part of themunity that had taken root here.
Lou sighed.
And then as he takes his step, he seems to be teleporting. Each time he takes a step, miles of distance is traversed.
And not before long he arrives at his home. It is a cabin built on top of a snowy mountain. He is the only one around here and there is no other people in the fifty-kilometer radius.
He opens the door and quickly shut the door before the snow outside that is raging coulde inside
The moment he enters, the entire cabin lit up.
>>
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
Creation is hard, cheer me up!
I tagged this book,e and support me with a thumbs up!
Like it ? Add to library！
Have some idea about my story? Comment it and let me know.