Tribulations
Okay, so... Picture this.
2083. Stockholm, Sweden. 4 friends, just hangin’ out. In society. Which is... barely existing right now. But that’s fine. The Mars colony got cars recently. That’s cool, I think. Oh, also, they have bloodline superpowers that forces them into a minority. Which is... new.
Oh- I’m not any of the 4 friends, by the way. Just the narrator. Picture me constantly staring at them, writing about their adventures and hijinks. Except I don’t exist. And am omniscient. Yeah. That works, I think.
Back to them. I should introduce the whole shtick before we really crack on with the whole ‘ooky spooky latin chapter title ooh aah’ thing. So let’s get on with that!
You reading this right now live on Earth, which is nice and calm. And boring. And safe. Where we’re at is technically also Earth but it’s like an alternate reality? Maybe? Anyways, people here are human, just like anyone else. But a select few (actually like 1 in 3-ish) are born into a ‘bloodalter’, which is like a family outside your genetic family. These bloodalter things are CRAZY. They can do a whole lot to your body! They can make you into a demon, give you windbending powers, change your atomic composition to match that of a distant star... anything, really! And it’s been this way since there were approximately 3 humans. That’s just how it is. In summary, magic people. On accident. Not like superheroes and gamma rays or whatever. Just blood. Or something.
Snap back to a couple months ago, it’s a cool September afternoon and the G20 summit is happening. That whole thing with the 20 most important leaders of the world? Yeah, that’s super important, especially in a world where society is tearing at the seams due to these out of control magic people. Oh, I should mention. I say ‘happening’, but I really mean ‘happened’. Because they all just died.
Lemme explain. The Prime Minister of Canada, Miss Udele Haraneib, was born into the ‘Passim Exterminatur’ bloodalter. For those of us who can’t read Latin, this essentially means she has the power to disappear and teleport. At any time, for any reason. Now, Miss Haraneib hasn’t always had the best grip on her abilities. She’s never teleported while in office, not until recently. You can probably assume what happened next. The G20 security team tracked their supposed teleportation location to the Andromeda galaxy. So yeah, they’re dead.
Now, in December, just before Christmas, the Prime Minister of Sweden has resounded orders from the European Union that every person with ‘magical affinities’ should be killed, kidnapped or essentially enslaved. Again, for those with less braincells than fingers, that means that anyone with magic powers is now either dead or about to die. So basically, they’re dead.
Where does that put our 4 friends? Well, as luck would have it, all four of them have a bloodalter. Each different from each other. I mean, variety is nice I guess. But when their shitty landlord eventually rats them out to the authorities and they get caught or killed, they ain’t gonna see each other in the afterlife. Their bloodalters won’t keep them together and that really sucks. Bad genetic lottery, bad.
I bet you wanna know what happened. Bless your inquisitive mind. Well, actually, they did put up a fight for a little bit. Since one of the four, Aether, was born into the Stella Viatorem bloodalter, they can summon stardust from their palms and shape it into whatever they want. So, of course, the door was barred and an escape was made. Paris, harbourer of the Daemonium Dominus bloodalter, was high risk/high reward, so they made quick work of the authorities that blocked their way. Rowen, of Flos Immortuos bloodalter, was able to find a secluded area of the countryside about an hour away where they could hide and Devyn, being of Spiritus Dei Feram bloodalter, could get the group there. So escape they did.
Mind you, it's 2083. Cars are almost 200 years old and you know for a FACT they're gonna advance in that time. It didn't take long for the cops to catch up with the group, amphibious and flying cars in tow. It didn't help that Rowen's bloodalter caused them to mercilessly produce flowers from any exposed skin on their body, leaving a very distinguishable trail for the cops to follow. That and how the wind bending made a very dramatic WOOSH noise every 4 seconds. In summary, escaping. Just about.
When they finally made it to the countryside, it was a bit too late for them. The police had gotten in front of them a couple times and it'd honestly be disappointing to see them fall behind in such a plot-holey fashion. So they didn't, of course. Just as they made landfall they were right around the corner to give our protagonists what for. And boy, was it... oddly degrading. The order had just gone out, I suppose, but there was very little respect for the bloodaltered people. Animal hoops, cages- hell, their hands were bound in zipties (which Paris quickly, uh, burned. In triplicate.) The only preparation anyone had actually made was a fireproof van and even that didn't help much. It was kinda disgusting to watch this happen, actually. Everyone agreed that these people were humans too, and should be treated with the same respect, but... Wow. No Miranda rights, no attorney, nothing. Just 1, 2; capture, padded cell for each of 'em. I did say that 'society was hanging by a thread' but... yeesh.
What you won't see (because our focal points have just been shoved into Swedish police vans) is how 85% of the bloodaltered people will now be killed worldwide. The only countries without widespread extermination orders are New Zealand (through direct and total resistance of the worldwide trends) and the Mars colony mentioned previously (because the whole 8-month data transmission thing). That's it. Well, except... Uh, nothing! Nope, nothing. I never said anything and my contract stipulates that I will never say anything. Nnnnope.
...Okay, it might come up later.
