Shadows and Sunlight: A Tale of Tyranny and Triumph
By J.N. Love
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"Shadows and Sunlight: A Tale of Tyranny and Triumph"
In a world thrown into chaos by the rise of the Pope's authoritarian regime, Rurork stands not just as a city, but as a grim prison of despair, a testament to the regime's iron grip. Axel, a resilient and determined soul, finds himself trapped within this bastion of cruelty, where every day is a test of spirit.
As Axel befriends fellow prisoners, they unearth secrets that hint at a larger resistance movement, drawing lines between those who collaborate with the regime and those who dare to oppose. Amongst these alliances, Axel discovers that the very guards meant to oppress might hold keys to rebellion.
"Shadows and Sunlight" chronicles the journey from the depths of despair in Rurork to a crescendo of resistance, culminating in a fierce battle that teeters on the brink of hope and sacrifice. Dive into a world where the price of freedom is steep, alliances are fluid, and the promise of a new dawn might be closer than it appears.
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Shadows and Sunlight - J.N. Love
Shadows and Sunlight:
A Tale of Tyranny and Triumph
J.N. Love
R.B. Publishers
Copyright © 2023 R.B. Publishers
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Shadows and Sunlight:
A Tale of Tyranny and Triumph
Prologue
¬=¬
The stories of old played out on the massive screen situated in our living room, reminiscent of fairytales with their animated adventures and mythical tales. No one in our community took the old vagabond's apocalyptic messages seriously. The wrinkled man with wild hair who displayed his warnings on a cardboard sign was often met with scoffs or sympathy. Was he just a reflection of what happens when life takes a brutal turn? Or had we unknowingly bought into a collective illusion, a self-fulfilling prophecy?
My mind occasionally drifts to the late 90s, when life seemed simpler, yet any escape is short-lived. Gruesome realities inevitably pull me back to the present. Now, I belong to the new untouchables, the haters
. Our predicament eerily mirrors Nazi Germany's societal division. While the global community was celebrating advancements in technology and the decline of poverty, a dark, concealed world was growing. That's where I, and millions like me, found ourselves - in Rurork, a hellish camp. It was a shock. Had I truly not left Canada? If such cruelty was possible here, what was happening to outcasts elsewhere?
My ability to chronicle these events is sporadic, but even fundamentalists have their moments of leniency. I scribble these words, knowing they may eventually serve as mere fuel for the guards' fires. But they keep my sanity intact. They've murdered countless before us, but for some reason, they keep our group alive. In 2029, the war commenced.
But let's start from the beginning, to provide context for the downfall of society.
The global unrest began in 2020. The outbreak of COVID-19 disrupted markets, economies, and lives. As the world grappled with the pandemic, a sinister revelation came to light. Mass arrests of influential figures, particularly in North America and Europe, revealed their ties to the sinister world of human trafficking. The drug adrenochrome became synonymous with these elites. The horrifying realities of this trade shattered public trust in leadership.
As political figures and celebrities faced public disdain, humanity turned to the Catholic Church for guidance. Despite controversies, the Pope became the world's de facto leader. Progress was made: universal basic income became a reality, sustainable technologies spread, and global unity seemed possible.
However, Israel was a powder keg. The conflict between Israelis and Palestinians took center stage. While the world tried to mediate, alliances shifted, and allegiances were tested. Finally, in 2022, a fragile peace agreement partitioned Jerusalem, with the Old City becoming a UN-controlled hotspot.
Now, with a sense of the world's atmosphere as 2022 came to a close, let me introduce myself. My name is Axel. My journey, set against the backdrop of global chaos, begins in 2022. If this journal escapes these electric walls, may it serve as a record of a time when the world stood on the brink.
1.
A Whisper from the Past
The heavy rain splashed onto the dilapidated roof of Axel's prison cell, each droplet a rhythmic reminder of his predicament. He lay on the cold, hard floor, staring blankly at the ceiling, lost in memories of a world he once knew—a world that seemed to exist in another lifetime.
A deep, haunting sigh escaped his lips. He thought of his childhood home and how it stood magnificently on Elm Street, with the scent of freshly mown grass and blossoms wafting through the air. The world outside the window pane of his memories was warm and luminous, filled with golden sunsets and the gentle hum of cicadas during hot summer evenings. But it was on one of these days, when the light cast long, languid shadows and the breeze was light and teasing, that Axel met Old Hobo Joe.
Kids in town had cruel names for him. Crazy Joe,
some whispered. Doomsday prophet,
others joked. But to Axel, he was just Old Hobo Joe—a shaggy-bearded man with tattered clothes and piercing blue eyes that held millennia of stories.
Axel, a 10-year-old boy with a mop of curly hair and a ceaseless curiosity, was on his way back from school when he heard an old man's voice, raspy from years of wear, singing a haunting lullaby under the massive oak tree.
"The winds of change are blowing fast,
The world won’t see another’s last,
Darkness comes, but so will light,
Hold on strong, with all your might."
The curious boy approached the tree, his eyes searching for the source of the voice. It was there that he saw Old Hobo Joe, his wiry frame hunched against the tree's vast trunk, his eyes distant, gazing at the shimmering horizon.
Hey there, young'un,
Joe murmured without looking away, sensing Axel's presence.
Axel shuffled his feet nervously. Hi. What are you singing about?
Old Hobo Joe turned slowly, those deep blue eyes now focused intently on Axel. A soft chuckle escaped him. Why, it's about the world, boy. The world as it is, and the world as it's going to be.
Axel cocked his head. What do you mean?
Joe motioned for Axel to sit beside him. It's a story, lad. A story told to me by the wind and the stars, by the rustling leaves and the murmuring brooks. Do you want to hear it?
Axel hesitated but then gave a slight nod. He loved stories, after all.
With a voice that quivered with age and emotion, Old Hobo Joe began, Long ago, the world was pure. But as the years have passed, shadows have grown longer, and the darkness looms.
Axel listened intently, his wide eyes reflecting the golden hues of the evening sun. But we have streetlights,
he said, trying to infuse some logic into the narrative.
Joe chuckled. Not that kind of darkness, boy. A darkness of the heart, of the soul. You see, there are people out there who crave power, who'd do anything for it. And in their quest, they'll tear this world apart.
But... why?
Axel's voice wavered with innocence.
Because, lad, that's what happens when the love of power overshadows the power of love.
The two sat in silence for a moment, the weight of Joe's words sinking in. Axel's youthful exuberance clashed with the old man's world-weariness, creating an electric atmosphere.
Suddenly, Joe laughed—a genuine, hearty laugh. Oh, how serious we've become! Do you like riddles, young'un?
Axel's eyes lit up. I love them!
Alright then,
Joe began, his voice playful now, "What has keys but can't open