- Jun 18, 2015
- 10,109
- Gender
- Female
- Pronouns
- She/Her
- Posting Status
- Irregularly

There was no preparing yourself for the end of the world. Angelo had thought he was prepared. He'd thought he was ready. He'd read and considered and pondered a million times what it would look like. What it would feel like. But none of that had prepared him for reality.
Halcyon City was gone. The place he'd grown up. The place he'd spent his whole life. His home. As they landed, Angelo couldn't help but realize that he had, until that moment, still considered it home. A part of him, even knowing the truth, had deep down felt that one day he'd go back. That one day he'd be back in Halcyon with his friends and loved ones. That he'd see them all again one day.
Actually arriving put those notions to rest more or less immediately.
Halcyon had once been a massive, thriving city on par with New York City itself. It had been a central hub. A place of business. A home. Now it was a wasteland. The destruction was total. Not a single building remained undamaged. Most were almost entirely leveled, little more than rubble. Every so often, there were signs or indications of what had once stood, but it was really only his memory letting Angelo know where they were.
He'd worn his suit and little else. It would protect him from debris or any sharp edges, but it only extended up to his neck. On his face was something else entirely--a sleek black mask that extended down over his throat, providing him with both oxygen and the pressure needed to let him breath. It was intended for space walked, but the significantly reduced atmosphere of Halcyon City was close enough to space that it required it.
Thankfully, he could still speak through it, the mask broadcasting his voice with a bit more crackle than usual as he glanced over his shoulder.
"Everyone make it through? How does this normally work?"
An hour. They had an hour.
Halcyon City was gone. The place he'd grown up. The place he'd spent his whole life. His home. As they landed, Angelo couldn't help but realize that he had, until that moment, still considered it home. A part of him, even knowing the truth, had deep down felt that one day he'd go back. That one day he'd be back in Halcyon with his friends and loved ones. That he'd see them all again one day.
Actually arriving put those notions to rest more or less immediately.
Halcyon had once been a massive, thriving city on par with New York City itself. It had been a central hub. A place of business. A home. Now it was a wasteland. The destruction was total. Not a single building remained undamaged. Most were almost entirely leveled, little more than rubble. Every so often, there were signs or indications of what had once stood, but it was really only his memory letting Angelo know where they were.
He'd worn his suit and little else. It would protect him from debris or any sharp edges, but it only extended up to his neck. On his face was something else entirely--a sleek black mask that extended down over his throat, providing him with both oxygen and the pressure needed to let him breath. It was intended for space walked, but the significantly reduced atmosphere of Halcyon City was close enough to space that it required it.
Thankfully, he could still speak through it, the mask broadcasting his voice with a bit more crackle than usual as he glanced over his shoulder.
"Everyone make it through? How does this normally work?"
An hour. They had an hour.