Starring-<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#00bfff">StayFrosty♂</span>,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff69b4">Himeko</span>,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff69b4">Doom Cookie</span>,<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff69b4">Tymara</span>, and<span class="fixed-color" style="color:#ff69b4">Ayame Aoyma</span>.<br/><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center"><i><span class="fixed-color" style="color:#483d8b"><span style="font-size: 15px"><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'">The world has been thrown into great turmoil and distress. We sit and wait like deers trapped in the gaze of headlights before us.<br/>
We saw loved ones leave... Die...<br/>
And for what? A lost cause it would seem. Freedom. Hope.<br/>
Though it is all for naught... For we are trapped.</span></span></span></i>​</div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center">______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________​</div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: left"><span style="font-family: 'tahoma'"><span style="font-size: 12px">It had been four months already since the attack. I remember going out into the streets one morning to go sledding with my friends back in February, my foster Mother calling me back. Apparently she had seen on the News that there had been an attack near by. Terrorists? Ultranationalist? At the time we were stupid. Young. We hadn't known the truth; the truth that piece by piece the world was falling apart, or at least going to at the time if us Americans, Australians, and Western Europeans didn't make a valid decision. The President chose to stay- fight along side with our allies until we would be freed from the evil Tyrant who kept us on a firm tether, making us unable to fallback or prevail, so we did what came natural to Americans. We surrendered. <br/>
I don't recall what ever happened to my foster parents, my brothers and sister as well, but if they were already dead, it couldn't have been any worse than this.<br/>
<br/>
Ashley Logan Mercer. 6-12-11</span></span><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Above was Ash's last entry in his journal before it had been confiscated earlier today and he had been thrown into this small cell with no windows, only a steel door lockable from the other side of the room and a light on the ceiling. He couldn't say he was scared anymore, Ash had actually been more terrified when he was walking the streets of what used to be his neighborhood alone- not a soul in sight or direction. This was more comforting, knowing that there were people still alive, even though they were the officers and grunts, and that they weren't going to kill him. How did he know? This was because if he were going to die, Ash was smart enough to realize they would've executed him right there- a gunshot through the head and that would be all- but of course they didn't.<br/>
Ash didn't understand why, but the organization responsible for this great cataclysm was planning something, and until something different happened, Ash would just have to keep entertaining himself with ideas and games, in hope he wouldn't go insane in this room alone, and wait.<br/>
<br/>
Ash put his ear against the door, listening as though the guards had found at least one other civilian who would be joining him inside the cell.<br/>
He couldn't understand what language the grunt was speaking- <i>Latin possibly</i>? That would be odd.<br/>
He drew his face back as the hinges squeaked open, and a female about his age (Ash being eighteen) being thrown in aggressively as the door shut fast with a large "bang". <br/>
Ash went over to help the girl up and sat her up against the wall. <br/>
<br/>
"Are- Are you okay?" He asked, unaware if she even spoke the same language, "They didn't hurt you, did they?"<br/>
<br/>
((Excuse me if I have any typos. <img alt=":p" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite7" data-shortname=":p" loading="lazy" src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" title="Stick Out Tongue    :p"/>))​</div>