When facing annihilation, fight for glory and preservation within time.

Even on the desolate planet of Mars, where bodies are a common, but identifiable occurrence, it only takes one accident to change everything. And when two different sides of a nearing waterfront fight in the Jezero Crater on the Martian world, they begin to delve into less professional means of conventional conflict and delve into their primal urges against each other.

This?

file:///media/fuse/drivefs-8621e489a32d886935bf2546cb417905/root/State%20of%20the%20World,%202065.pdf

Alternative(?)

file:///media/fuse/drivefs-8621e489a32d886935bf2546cb417905/root/State%20of%20the%20World,%202065.pdf

Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? 


Maybe even Questions?

https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/116ksCwIfwtO3kzZBzc4HXvQvtknStlirEMcDKMvx86c/edit#slide=id.gca93abd42b_0_242

(if the link is not working I'll be sure to see to it as soon as possible-might have to delete)

Note: Nicknames like e.g."British" still exist for these nations.

0_0 Oh god

Idea i have had for a while-Sci Fi and Fantasy put together-but instead, a Knight has travelled to the "Science Fiction" future, with the same races but different politics of the world he used to know. 
If any of you are asking where the parents of Jane and Eric are-they live in a orphanage, and future works will reveal what the Scepter War was about, but that's basically the backdrop for everything unknown. (for now)

Wyatt grinned under his heavy steel-plated armor. He clenched the long Bastard sword he had taken off of a fallen Hussite in his early days, which he grew fond of as the time passed. His name wasn't really Wyatt-it was moreso like the conglomeration of a rank and a nickname, earned from the respect of his Captain.

The thin line of the Grand Reaver Army grew ever-thicker and more visible, where Wyatt and the other men aside him could swear they were seeing their faces, of the Reavers. "HOLDFAST, MEN!" Bellowed the Captain, an orc aged 70 years. Wyatt was one of the first to brace themselves, as the Reavers descended the last hill closest to the knights in the formation of a messy, living metal wall.

The Reavers wore mostly featureless faces, with the exception of fangs similar to a wolf or some other beast of the woods. Reavers did not eat on human meat-but they were more than willing to bite, kick, and gore the flesh of their opponents. They made horrible sounds, similar to screaming with water in your lungs-which made them all the more cursed.

As Wyatt's mind whirled about thinking of all to happen, all that has happened. Now was the moment. Now, was the time of calling, the exact reason why he signed up for this in the first place.

The advancing party of Reavers was heading straight for the area of men by Wyatt, which made them nervously cheer for the oncoming battle.

Three.

Wyatt and the other knights beside him held their shields high and began beating their swords along the shields. 

Two.

The Reavers prepared their ranged arms and blades alike, preparing to make a spearheaded charge through the knights.

One.

Wyatt clenched every muscle in his body, as his eyes narrowed on a Reaver swinging it's battleaxe, going straight for his head-

Then, nothing.

Wyatt found himself falling down some kind of tunnel, his head moving frantically from side to side, as he clawed uselessly on the borders of whatever tunnel he was rapidly descending. There wasn't much sound, save for Wyatt's screaming, out of confusion and fear. He was just beginning battle, and now he was doomed to dying from a height? Useless, Useless, he thought. Completely Useless. 

After what felt like a lifetime, Wyatt slammed into the "bottom" of whatever tunnel this was, backfirst, grimacing.

"God save me..." Wyatt muttered, as his sword and shield fell around him, clattering on what he detected to be a wooden floor.

Wyatt looked up, and only got a glimpse of some sort of...portal, that must've been the tunnel he fell down.

"What...the...fuck."

Wyatt turned around, seeing a pairing of a youthful woman (or, at least he saw a woman, which was really a teenage girl, however his time spent in the past has altered that view) and a younger boy, who was standing behind the woman, in the hallway of what seemed to be this Woman's room. It was adorned with such foreign drawings, with bright lights of the sort scrabbled all over. They were written in characters similar to what Wyatt new as his language, except for a few letters he couldn't dare attempt to spell them out.

He picked up his sword and shield, and  adjusted his helm.

"Who art thou I see before thyself?!" Wyatt carefully posed into a fighting stance, preparing for whatever may be brought upon him. 

The Boy peered around the Woman's pantaloons, which the knight had noticed. Had he been sent elsewhere? Another land, or realm, maybe? Where women wore pantaloons, and did that mean men wore skirts, and fine dresses? Why was he here?

The Woman, perhaps out of fear or some other cause, raised her hands before Wyatt, which he took as...surrender? Did nobody fight around here?

"Who art thou?! I see with my two eyes your pledge of...allegiance, how pitiful. But that does not keep you from telling me who art thou. Tell me."

The Woman took a deep breath, and closed her eyes.

"I'm Jane. He-the woman gestured at the boy peering from behind her blue pantaloons-Is Eric."

"You hath no bonds to any other wretched kings, Jane?"

Wyatt's sword steadied in his hands, but he was still unsure of whether to be defensive against these possible friends.

"N-No. The last opposing King was defeated by the Arcovan Confederacy."

"Confederachy? You mean a Duch defeated a royal Ist it not heretical to do so, ist it not traitorous?"

Jane crossed her arms, despite the Sword pointed dead on at where her heart would be. Surely, Wyatt would kill her if she tried anything funny-but she couldn't cower from him, either.

"ConfederACY.  Happened a millenia ago. And obviously...you've yet to learn."

Wyatt lowered his sword, the shock now fading away, as the realization burned in him.

"You are saying, that i hath been sent one grand years into...the time after thyself?"

Jane smirked, the boy now having retreated to his room, wherever it was.

"Poor you. Everything you know...gone." Jane shook her head somberly, getting a good grasp on how Wyatt is handling the situation.

"Jane. There must be a quest. Is there still the chivalry and proper...kind of people in this time?"

Jane raised an eyebrow, prior to turning her head back behind her as she seemed to be observing something to do with her brother. "You mean are there still knights and stuff like that?"

Wyatt nodded his head, looking around the room for some kind of exit.

"Yes. Just because your precious kingdoms and royalties have fallen, doesn't mean the world changes. C'mon, we'll go-"

As soon as Jane turned around-

Wyatt was out the window, a knight-sized hole leading to the city across the hills.

"Ah shit. Eric! Get your shoes, we're going on a manhunt!"

Great Story, I do see a few punctuation mistakes, but that doesn't take away from the narrative. I can't wait to see this plot progress, especially with how it's going right now.

P.S. Erieriel may be a bit confusing, considering the existence of Uriel, or Ariel, depending on language, etc.

Found-On-Road-Dead, i think

Don't know who Ford is, but-

One prayer for the man (or I am assuming a man) because VeggieTales holiness

Duly noted, and about the reaction to the news-I'm glad i could convey that message to you, the reader :)

And about the prologue part, yes, this is intended to be more interpreted as a Prologue to the larger story, but, it is ultimately until I see how it is overall received, will it either become a one-time short story or a prologue for the 'larger' story at hand.