Time Traveller
Hammering the details into the machine's internal computer with practised speed, setting the date for 2030. Conscious of the problems you've got yourself into so far, you have the machine analyse the near future, but all it can come up with are the words; "America" and "Revolution."
Intrigued, you once again throw caution to the winds and set the machine in motion. The familiar nausea swoops through your body as it spirals through reality and occasionally outside of it. It is quite a long ride and you settle into your rumbling, thrumming vessel as comfortably as possible.
When the machine reaches 2030, though, it lands so violently that you are thrown painfully against the walls before ending up in a groaning heap in your safety harness.
When your head has stopped spinning, you cautiously untangle yourself and peer groggily outside. Your eyes widen at the sight that greets your eyes.
You have landed directly in the middle of a neglected basketball court nestled between immense, gleaming skyscrapers and intricate, weaving highways threading their way between them. Gawping, you estimate that the skyscraper directly overhead must be three hundred stories high. Down here in the deep shadows cast by those monsterous edifices, the basketball court is deserted; great bushes of weeds are growing up through cracks in the tarmac, the chain-link fence is brown with rust and most of the bleachers are shattered. No-one is around.
Carefully, you cross the court and stare out across the road. No traffic is moving; cars and vans are parked haphazardly across the street, abandoned and rusting, doors hanging off, as if they were left in a hurry. A cold wind is howling between the skyscrapers - you wrap your coat around yourself and shiver.
There must be someone in this ghost city. It might be worth a bit of exploration. Then again, it might also drop you into hot water.
What's your plan of action?
Intrigued, you once again throw caution to the winds and set the machine in motion. The familiar nausea swoops through your body as it spirals through reality and occasionally outside of it. It is quite a long ride and you settle into your rumbling, thrumming vessel as comfortably as possible.
When the machine reaches 2030, though, it lands so violently that you are thrown painfully against the walls before ending up in a groaning heap in your safety harness.
When your head has stopped spinning, you cautiously untangle yourself and peer groggily outside. Your eyes widen at the sight that greets your eyes.
You have landed directly in the middle of a neglected basketball court nestled between immense, gleaming skyscrapers and intricate, weaving highways threading their way between them. Gawping, you estimate that the skyscraper directly overhead must be three hundred stories high. Down here in the deep shadows cast by those monsterous edifices, the basketball court is deserted; great bushes of weeds are growing up through cracks in the tarmac, the chain-link fence is brown with rust and most of the bleachers are shattered. No-one is around.
Carefully, you cross the court and stare out across the road. No traffic is moving; cars and vans are parked haphazardly across the street, abandoned and rusting, doors hanging off, as if they were left in a hurry. A cold wind is howling between the skyscrapers - you wrap your coat around yourself and shiver.
There must be someone in this ghost city. It might be worth a bit of exploration. Then again, it might also drop you into hot water.
What's your plan of action?