--- Section One ---
--- Section Two ---
(Thanks to "This Person Does Not Exist" for the image.)
"The mass must be ignited, the creatures charred, and the hopeless sparked once again."
Tyson had no room, and others had no room too. It was like a luxury, the lucky ones were the ones that survived their rooms getting taken over by the Xenian menace, and the unlucky were sitting on the street with beggars and cops as well as the ominous yet somehow comforting cremators that Tyson so greatly adored as they burned both fauna and flora alike. Tyson was one of the unlucky, he was prone to get robbed, and he did get robbed. He had few, if any, possessions to his name, except the clothes on his back, and anything he found in the trash. It was hard to find food and watch, and even more difficult to even come close to failing at finding a room. Most terminals outright denied you when you went to the housing section. He tried his best to pick up Christianity to keep his spirits high, praying constantly, even outside the faith, yet this only did so much. Sooner or later Tyson had to resort to drinking alcohol because he was so thirsty and so hungry that he ate even the few living rats he came across. Eventually, it came to a point where Tyson just gave up, he took off his gas mask and tossed it. Soon, the spores started affecting him, and it was not long before Tyson started hearing voices and seeing hallucinations. It was subtle at first, but as the spores grew in strength, so did the hallucinations.
'Tyson began to see the growth rapidly expanding towards him in the alley he lay in. As soon as he saw it convulsing he got up as swift as possible, almost falling. Fear, fear soon gripped him, and he began running from it, running down the alleys like a madman, screaming and yelling, looking back to still see it convulsing and consuming. He ran, and, ran and then started sprinting, eventually his eyes caught a doorway adorned with a shimmering substance that was blue-ish. He bolted for it with the last dregs of his strength, and as he passed the doorway, stopped. He looked behind him, and the door slammed shut. He looked around seeing a metallic room filled with intricate carvings, in the center of which was a brazier built into the ground, and in the center of the brazier was a flame.'
'The flame spoke, and its words were said as such "You, you have fear in your eyes, yet the fire in your veins. I know naught this one's name, but I have chosen this one. You are not a coward, yet you are not devoid of fear, you can mold yourself to become more masterful of yourself, but this one must not forget fear is only an over-zealous ally. You ran and ran until I whisked you away from the menace's danger. I do not wish to pressure you, but I do wish to offer you a chance, chance... to change this world, to crusade against the menace that brought you to your knees. Become a disciple of the Flame, ignite this mass, char the fauna, and ignite a spark of hope within other souls." It paused a moment, waiting for an answer, and an air of criticism surrounded the metal room. Day-dreamily and panicky Tyson stammered, "Yes!", rather loudly.'
And then a thud was heard in the hospice both inhabited by several free-lance doctors and some homeless individuals. They all stared wide-eyed at the man who had just fallen on the floor before he was taken and laid to rest on a bed while a few of the doctors began to treat his obvious spore infection. The hallucinations had driven him to exhaustion, they were now over but at what cost? Tyson, eventually, awoke from his slumber, disoriented, sore, and frantic as he remember sprinting from the hallucination that had formed in the image of a mass of Xenian flora, although he calmed as he realized it was all a "dream", and some doctors surrounded him, comforting him. After around thirty minutes of explaining and telling his tale, he left the building. He had a new gas mask he was wearing and not much else except a meal before he left. The doctors did the proper treatments, including a blood transfusion. The doctors insisted he stay there since his mental state was not the best, but he left thanking the doctors but being very withdrawn overall. He was still going over what happened in his episode, and what actually happened.
On his walk throughout the city he concluded that it must have happened, otherwise, why would he have fallen in the hospice, where he gained medical aid and safety. Who knows for certain what actually occurred, although it's safe to say he is fervent on his mission to eradicate the infestation of the menace.
--- Section Three (Optional) ---
Hello there, the name's Fiery. I like both fantasy and sci-fi stuff, so that's why I am here. Uh, not much to say about myself since I don't know what to say. I guess I am a pretty kind person. I'm also on the Short Stories staff team, so that's pretty cool.
Are you new to Willard Networks?:
Nope, not at all.
Are you familiar with anyone around Willard Networks?:
Multiple people, some people in the staff team, some I knew before coming here, and some players I've played with before.
What's your favorite thing about Half-Life?:
The environments, enemies, and general world-building. There's so little, yet so much said, and so much that can be added on, which allows people to come up with unique ideas for role-playing servers like this one. It also allows for a lot more leniency on what can be done with the world without straying too far.
