Static Voice
"... and now, researchers from the Green Desert region have finally disclosed their findings from their latest series of experiments. Fortunately, the new information aligns with the existing theories, confirming that the living dead condition is not a disease. However, no comments were made on the cause of the condition, deepening the mystery around this phenomenon further.
Moving on to sports , The 40th Annual Eternal Sky Diving tournament kicked off a week ago, with almost double the amount of participants compared to previous year. A hundred and thirty two people registered for the event, to sky dive from the space without any equipment. This year's event aimed to collect tokens that were scattered out in the air space above the Jogi Forest region. While the individual and team events have ended and the open category event remains.
In other news, extreme sports personality, Yiren made headlines after chickening out at the last moment from swimming across the Biyan Volcano crater in the Khat'ra region. He claimed his pain resistance was not up to the mark to handle swimming through magma lake.
And for our final story, Joro, the mountain climber, began his 23rd attempt at scaling the Devta's peak barehanded. Two days in, he is already past the Sura point and is quickly making his way to the Asura point. His determination to achieve this significant milestone is unmatched in this era. Hopefully we get to congratulate him in five days time, when he makes it to the summit.
Signing off now, keep tuning in to the New Era's Voice to get the latest news from around the world at any moment."
The static voice cut off, silence setting in the old prison complex.
The main prison hall was huge and empty, the sunlight filtering through the tinted windows had the color of 50s gray. Surrounded by numerous doors, the empty prison hall felt ancient, with the walls tattered and doors barely hanging from their hinges. Vents were broken and even the main entrance had a door missing. The gray paint was peeling off at the edges and the floor was covered in cracks. The whole place looked beaten, like it was on its last breath.
But strangely enough, it didn't look dirty. The prison was spotless, despite the state it was in. As if someone regularly cleaned this space.
In the center of the hall, a lone man was seated cross legged in the lotus pose. His hands, made of metal, were placed on his knees, with the palms facing the sky and his spine erect. The man had a serene look on his face with his eyes closed. Long black hair that was tied in a bun gave him the looks of an ascetic. He wore a plain black round neck paired with black joggers. The radio, which was playing earlier was placed just a few feet away from him.
He was the sole occupant in the large empty hall, only the sound of his deep breathes disturbing the solitude.
A while passed before he opened his eyes, taking in the dull sunlight. Very smoothly he rose from his place and picked the radio beside him, making his way to the end of the hall.
There were many rooms in this complex, each one repurposed for a specific reason by him. Making his way to gym room, he placed the radio on the windowsill inside and started with his morning workout routine. He could not remember how long, but for a very long time, he had stuck to his current routine.
'You remember exactly how long, Kshaya'
He ignored the metallic voice and focused on the barbell. It had been thirty-two years, six months, and five days since he'd arranged this gym and everything still felt the same. The rough grip of the bar, the slight rust at the ends, the familiar weight. It was almost as if time stood still inside this room, inside this prison complex.
'It's good to be honest with yourself' The metallic voice echoed, as if it could read his mind.
Kshaya spent almost three hours in the gym room, before exiting, completely drenched and spent. A good workout was a perfect way to start the day.
He quickly made his way to the only exit in this complex, ready to get on with his day.
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After the cataclysm, Kshaya had roamed the wilderness for a long time, before deciding to settle in this abandoned prison complex.
Located in the southern continent Dakshin, this place was far away from human settlements. The closest Haven city was nearly a hundred kilometers far and even the bandits and nomads did not want to come here.
It was perfect for a recluse like himself.
He made his outside the prison complex, with his radio and compass, past the electric fencing. To his right, the road extended into the horizon, a desert all the way. There was no vegetation in view. And on his left, the road abruptly ended, as wildlife took over. It was a poisonous swamp, with such thick growth that sunlight barely reached the ground. A gray miasma covered the depths, making it harder for anyone to figure out what lay in this jungle.
The prison complex was situated right in the middle of these two conflicting biomes.
And Kshaya went out daily to clear the area around his home.
The two biomes were alive, trying to conquer each other, devour and claim more territory. And in the process take over his sanctuary.But he couldn't allow it. So, for thirty-two years, he came out each day to keep the world at bay.
He would cut down and clear any greenery that extended past his markers and shovel away the sand that dared to crawl forward. It was a ritual of balance. He did not protect the prison—it was the prison that kept him anchored, and he could not let either side devour it. Each day he chose order over encroachment, control over the world's slow madness.
It wasn't like the desert or the swamp could harm him. He would survive in either environment. The harsh winds of the desert and the miasma of the swamp. Both had no means to harm his body. But in this world that had descended into chaos, the only way he had to maintain his own sanity was to continue to do this. Otherwise he feared, he would be facing a darkness much more than anything he could handle.
'But how long will you enjoy this pretend peace?'
His moves faltered, as another voice, bleak and heavy echoed inside his mind. It was his own inner voice. But he had no answer. So he continued in silence, letting his actions guide his mind to the equilibrium he had manufactured over the years.
Forty years ago, when the light of genesis had shone on all humans and everything else, the world changed in an instant. Humans gained bodies that were eternal.
Injuries healed instantly, tolerance for extreme environments raised to the maximum and hunger itself became meaningless. Yet the more perfect their bodies became, the quieter their minds turned. The world had survived, but life had turned deaf.
Kshaya remembered watching men laugh as they burned under the sunlight, laughing because they could not feel the pain anymore. He remembered children playing in the freezing rains for days, laughing, because they no longer needed warmth. He had seen immortality bloom, but not life.
'You called that a miracle then,' the metallic voice whispered.
"And a curse now," he murmured, his own voice heavy and foreign to himself.
The wind from the desert whistled through the wired fence, dragging sand into the air until it mixed with the swamp's gray vapors. The colors met for a moment above the prison yard, forming a faint shimmer; gold and green seemed to intertwining for a breath before they parting again. Balance was restored for another day.
He turned to return to his sanctuary, to continue with his routine, but the hum in the distance made him pause. He looked towards the desert, across the horizon covered in dunes. Nothing caught his eye. Then he looked at the swamp, but on the darkness of the jungle greeted him back.
Uneasy, he twisted the dial of his radio out of habit. The same broadcast began to replay, word for word. In a world where death had no meaning, extreme sports had taken off really well.
But as he listened, he noticed something off.
"...Green Desert region has had a breakthrough in their research, the living dead condition might just be a symptom..."
"...Joro has failed in his 23rd attempt to conquer the Devta's peak... "
"...For the first time in forty years, a living dead has been confirmed to have died..."
Kshaya stopped, listening to the static voice finish the broadcast. Everything seemed to have changed in a few hours. He glanced at his radio that had accompanied him for all life in this new era.
"Maybe it is time for the peace to finally shatter?" He murmured to himself, but also to those listening to him. The static voice shut off in response. The metallic voice disappeared.
'Yes,' The bleak voice instead answered. 'Nothing truly is eternal after all.'