Months had passed since the world went to war. As nuclear weapons devastated every country out there, my family and I hid in our bunker for six months until our supplies started to run scarce. My mom needed her thyroid medication, and my father his heart medication. I needed to venture out into the wastelands beyond the hatch to search for supplies. My brother was in no condition to walk, and my sister was still too young, so I took a backpack and opened the hatch for the first time since the war broke out. The world I once knew lay in ruins before me. Where once rows of houses and green hills stood, now only charred rubble and hollowed earth remained. The skies were unusually dark, burying any glimmer of light that was meant to reach us. I waded through the deserted terrain, keeping an eye out for any supplies I could find, while also being vigilant about any other survivors who could be wandering those parts. To my luck, I came across two other groups sharing food and medicine. I app...
It’s heartbreaking to see how news covering genocide and tyranny is drowned in the background while lies are brought to the forefront. Even uttering the word gets you shut down, locked behind unseen walls. Justice is always silenced by the powerful and the cruel. Even before our current invaders arrived, my homeland was ravaged at the hands of a former global superpower that started with one of their own neighbours, starving them and driving them apart until they became two nations. ‘Divide and Conquer’ has always been key to many conquests of the colonisers of this world. Once they had colonized the lands of the neighbours who were of similar race and religion, they set out to suffocate people of other races and religions under their feet, forcing their own ideals and laws upon them while robbing them of their cultures and identities. And so, generations of multiple nations were brainwashed into believing they were lesser than their enslavers—a misconception that was hidden behind the...
Ever since we were children, my twin sister and I always dreamed of building a time machine; and as we grew older, we became more determined to turn it into reality. However, our hard work through university and beyond went unrecognised since no one was willing to back our project. As a last resort, we turned to Prof. Jacobs, one of our former lecturers, for help; he said he knew someone who could provide us with the funding we needed. We began our project a week later with the help of a millionaire with the right connections, who was more than willing to help as long as his name was stamped on the project. Prof. Jacobs also joined our efforts, initially helping only on weekends, but later immersing himself fully into the project. We were glad that he was just as enthusiastic as us about the possibility of time travel. We once asked him whether he was curious about time travel since he was a child as well, but he said no. Prof. Jacobs said he just wished he could prevent certain events...
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