Philos

Dystopia 
woke up. Estimated time: 5:30AM. I found myself propped up against an 
evergreen pine tree, black snow blanketing my cold rough skin. The 
atmosphere was full of thick air, it was increasingly difficult to extract 
enough oxygen. The only things around me were jagged edges of broken 
and weathered stone enveloped in the same soot which camouflaged me. 
From my position, I could clearly see the land that stood fiercely below. A 
colossal kingdom of fiery darkness; walls made of a metallic black 
material. Excluding the gargantuan superstructures several kilometres 
away, it was surprisingly sparse. Every few minutes I could catch a 
glimpse of a small supersonic object that looked similar to a bird; 
travelling to and fro in almost every direction. They lingered in the sky 
for a couple seconds before blasting off, creating a small boom after 
disappearing. The scent of petrichor filled my nose. 
 
I couldn’t remember any recent events; the last things I remember were 
being in a white room with surgeons and then another memory of me 
running strangely fast. I got up and brushed off the ash dust. I started to 
walk