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Description
November 19, 74984 BCE; Purgatory

It was the same drag day by day.

Every morning Cain would wake up to the same blackened sky, the same charcoaled ground. It was honestly a miracle he managed to get any bit of green to grow in this wasteland that they called a planet. But that was his job and he made sure he was at least damn good at it. That's all any of the people on this Earth did. They did their jobs. They had to. After the world ended and civilization came to a screeching halt, everyone left alive had to join together to rebuild. In a strange twist of fate, ending the world ended up bringing it together.

Cain had heard all the stories from his parents, Adam and Eve. They told him of all the tragedies that befell the Earth when the humans and the isu were still at war with one another. His mother told him how the sun let out an unforgiving solar flare that wiped out almost all members of both species, and how their Brotherhood, the Assassins, helped lead the survivors to world peace in the new dark times.

Cain always felt like he had gotten the short end of the stick in life. He was born right after the catastrophe to parents who seemed stuck in their ways despite his repeated questioning. “Why did we all have to work on the same level?,” he would ask. “It’s making the rebuilding process so slow. Maybe if we had a sort of head leader managing it all-”

But they always cut him off. “That's not our way, Cain,” they would tell him. “That's what the isu slavers would think like back in the day, and that is a time long behind us. The Assassins encourage a society built on freedom and cooperation.”

Cain always sucked it up. He didn't want to argue at risk of being ridiculed further. What was the point? Sometimes he wished he could be like his little brother, Abel. That wide-eyed kid took in every single one of their parents’ teachings like it was the breath of life. Abel was an Assassin in heart, mind, and body. He was the good child. Not like Cain, who always wanted something different…

He sighed as he stepped out into the outside world from the collapsed skeleton of a building that he was forced to call his shelter. He looked around at the ash-littered landscape, breathed in the terrible-tasting air. He scowled. How could everyone around him tolerate this? How could their Creed be so strong as to blind them to this horrible wasteland? How could they be so… so… optimistic?

He shook his head, getting the thought out. Thinking never really got him anywhere anyway. For now, he just wanted to finish his job and reap the harvest. Abel would probably already have his livestock shaved, slaughtered, and milked, ready for the gathering process. Cain was always a bit behind. It wasn't his fault he was constantly stressed out.

He got to work in his fields, reaping the crops he managed to get growing. He had to admit, even though he hated the daily slog of his work, he was damn good at what he did.

It took a few hours, but he eventually managed to get a good bundle of crops together. Certainly enough for the gathering ceremony. Every year, the other survivors laughed him off. They told him his supply wasn't as rich or plentiful as the other farmers around the world were. He always delivered the lesser bundles when it came time to gather and distribute supplies to all the people around the world. Not like Abel. They praised Abel for his amazing animals and the food and clothes that they provided. Abel, as always, was the favorite child it seemed. But not this time. This time he'd show them just how productive he really was. His mother would actually be proud of him this time, and not just smile and pat him on the shoulder and say, “You did the best you could, son.” This time, he'd beat out his brother in this little competition.

------------

Or not.

He practically stormed out of the building after the gathering ceremony was finished. He had brought his finest crops this time, gathered them all up in the biggest bundle he had ever brought to the ceremony. He had worked until the skin on his palms was white and cracked.

And still they shrugged him off.

“Valiant effort, but you could've done far more, Cain,” they told him.

“They aren't quite as good as the other farmers’ but hey, better than the last batch.”

“You should see if your little brother can try and teach you about shepherding. I think that might be where your real talents are.”

The voices echoed in his head, practically mocking him. All he ever did was try, try, try! Why was that not enough? He wanted this world to prosper just as much as any of them! It wasn't his fault that this world was against him in that! If everyone else wasn't so focused on upholding the values of freedom and equality and all that other stuff his family poured into his ear, maybe they'd actually get stuff done! Maybe he could actually grow something. If only he was in charge. If only he had the ability to climb just a little higher on the ladder…

But no. That would never happen. The world had found a pattern they liked to stick to. They ran their lives by the Creed. All Cain would ever be, it seemed, was an outcast.

As he sat outside in the grim air, he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. It was clearly meant to comfort him, but it only succeeded in making him frown further in his anger.

“Go away,” he demanded, pulling away.

“Son…” the voice of his mother pleaded.

“No.”

“You take what they say too harshly, son. They don't mean to hurt you, they're just offering constructive criticism.”

“Well I don't want constructive criticism, dammit! I want people to say what I'm doing is right!”

“What you're doing is right-”

“It's not right enough for them! This is all their faults anyway! If you all weren't so stuck in upholding the Creed, this planet might actually be habitable again!”

He stood up abruptly and started to saunter away.

“Cain…” his mother protested. “Son please just-”

“No!”

He took off before she had the chance to say anything more. He just ran and ran until he reached the little patch of charred ruins that he called his private abode. He hid inside and buried his head in his hands. He grit his teeth as tears soaked his cheeks. He stayed like that for as long as he dared. He didn't care anymore. He just needed to be alone…

------------

He found himself walking back towards his parent's place a few hours later. He had finished his tantrum and he couldn't shake the feeling of guilt he had for lashing out at his mother. He still thought he was right, but he at least figured he should apologize for expressing that in such a negative way. He let himself inside and looked around for Eve.

“Mother?” he called out into the halls. No response. He made a tch noise with his tongue as he pondered where she could be. He walked until he began to hear the muffled sounds of voices coming from a room at the end of the passage. The door was slightly ajar and Cain was able to see a light flickering from inside. He approached the door, trying to hear what was being said.

“I get the feeling you called me here for more than just a nice chat, mother?” It was Abel’s voice. That made Cain reconsider his plans to enter. He froze in his tracks in front of the door. Instead of opening it up, he stuck back and peeked in through the crack. Sure enough, he saw his mother and his brother standing there. Eve had a smile full of admiration and pride. She held a small leather sack in her hands, one that seemed to hold something spherical inside.

“You can just read me like a book, huh Abel?” she laughed. “You're right. There is something special I wanted to discuss with you. If that's okay?”

Abel nodded. “Of course!” he said. Cain’s frown lowered with each word coming out of their chipper mouths.

“You have proven yourself to be quite the prodigy,” Eve told her youngest. “You're a hard worker, a kind-hearted young man, and the most devoted follower of the Creed I've ever seen. You've made me so so proud in all your years, and I think you've more than proven yourself worthy of carrying the responsibility that I'm about to present to you.”

Cain watched, eyes wide and soul shattering as his mother reached into the bag she held and from it withdrew a golden sphere, laced with the shining golden engravings of classic isu technology. It glowed like the sun as she held it in her hands. There was no mistaking what it was. It was the Apple of Eden. Cain felt his stomach drop and his blood slowly start to boil.

“I want you to be the guardian of this Apple,” Eve told Abel as he stared in awe and surprise. “It's our duty as Assassins to ensure that absolute power like this is never used by anyone, human or isu. We promote peace by giving people the freedom to choose to be peaceful. It's our job to ensure artifacts like these, tools built specifically to destroy freewill itself, are never used. I've guarded this Apple ever since I stole it in Eden over 25 years ago, and now I want you, my son, to carry that torch.”

Abel couldn't help but stare wide-eyed at the artifact as it was gently placed in his hands. He looked up at his mother. “I… of course, mother!” he said, his face like an excited puppy dog. “I… I'm honored! I don't know what to say!”

Eve just chuckled. “I'll take that as a yes, then?”

“Absolutely! I'll make sure this Apple is never used by anyone! It will remain a worthless piece of silver for as long as I breathe! You have my word!”

Eve smiled and hugged her son tight. “I knew I could count on you, Abel. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, mother.”

Cain was already storming his way out of the complex, his face red with fury and his teeth clenched as tight as his fists. He ran right back to his little hiding hole and started tossing and breaking as many objects as he could get his hands on, shouting and swearing at the top of his lungs.

“Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” he shouted. “That little rodent! Always taking the spotlight from me! Always making my hard work seem worthless in everyone's eyes! I'm sick of it! I'm done! I refuse! I've had it with this idiotic community!”

He transformed his fit of destruction into a moment of packing up all of his essentials into a burlap sack which he slung over his back and carried with him as he stormed out the door. He didn't even look back at the Purgatory complex. He walked, and he intended to do so until he came across a land that was as far away from “civilization” as possible. He was done with his species, he was done with his family. He was done.

But despite his mind being so set on those thoughts, he couldn't help but start to feel his lips quivering and his cheeks burning as warm tears streaked down them. It wasn't long before he collapsed to his knees in the middle of nowhere, crying uncontrollably as the weight of the world was no longer something he could bare. Not anymore.

He was too caught up in his pain to realize the world around him begin to crack and glitch.

"Boss, he's failing again. I don't think he can pull it off. I mean, we've never tried setting the machine back this far and Cain’s drama is kicking his brain's ass."

The voices echoed through the sky, the crumbling sky that was very quickly shattering away to reveal the cold digital void.

“Try to start it up again. He'll pull through."

"But boss-”

The pain only got worse as the world became uniform and dark as the simulation broke down completely. It spread out from his brain and across his entire body, assaulting every last inch of his nerves. He wanted to scream. He couldn't take it anymore. He needed to get out!

"Start it again, Ms. Sheol. The man survived the whole Staff of Eden mess he put himself into with only a few scratches save for the stab in the side that his friend gave him. If he lives through this, we can get some valuable information, and maybe another plaything. If not, then at least another thorn is out of my side."

“M’kay well see I don't really have much of a choice because I haven't gotten the manual override thing hooked up yet soooo… the machine is gonna kick him out in about... now.”

Description
November 19, 74984 BCE; Purgatory

It was the same drag day by day.

Every morning Cain would wake up to the same blackened sky, the same charcoaled ground. It was honestly a miracle he managed to get any bit of green to grow in this wasteland that they called a planet. But that was his job and he made sure he was at least damn good at it. That's all any of the people on this Earth did. They did their jobs. They had to. After the world ended and civilization came to a screeching halt, everyone left alive had to join together to rebuild. In a strange twist of fate, ending the world ended up bringing it together.

Cain had heard all the stories from his parents, Adam and Eve. They told him of all the tragedies that befell the Earth when the humans and the isu were still at war with one another. His mother told him how the sun let out an unforgiving solar flare that wiped out almost all members of both species, and how their Brotherhood, the Assassins, helped lead the survivors to world peace in the new dark times.

Cain always felt like he had gotten the short end of the stick in life. He was born right after the catastrophe to parents who seemed stuck in their ways despite his repeated questioning. “Why did we all have to work on the same level?,” he would ask. “It’s making the rebuilding process so slow. Maybe if we had a sort of head leader managing it all-”

But they always cut him off. “That's not our way, Cain,” they would tell him. “That's what the isu slavers would think like back in the day, and that is a time long behind us. The Assassins encourage a society built on freedom and cooperation.”

Cain always sucked it up. He didn't want to argue at risk of being ridiculed further. What was the point? Sometimes he wished he could be like his little brother, Abel. That wide-eyed kid took in every single one of their parents’ teachings like it was the breath of life. Abel was an Assassin in heart, mind, and body. He was the good child. Not like Cain, who always wanted something different…

He sighed as he stepped out into the outside world from the collapsed skeleton of a building that he was forced to call his shelter. He looked around at the ash-littered landscape, breathed in the terrible-tasting air. He scowled. How could everyone around him tolerate this? How could their Creed be so strong as to blind them to this horrible wasteland? How could they be so… so… optimistic?

He shook his head, getting the thought out. Thinking never really got him anywhere anyway. For now, he just wanted to finish his job and reap the harvest. Abel would probably already have his livestock shaved, slaughtered, and milked, ready for the gathering process. Cain was always a bit behind. It wasn't his fault he was constantly stressed out.

He got to work in his fields, reaping the crops he managed to get growing. He had to admit, even though he hated the daily slog of his work, he was damn good at what he did.

It took a few hours, but he eventually managed to get a good bundle of crops together. Certainly enough for the gathering ceremony. Every year, the other survivors laughed him off. They told him his supply wasn't as rich or plentiful as the other farmers around the world were. He always delivered the lesser bundles when it came time to gather and distribute supplies to all the people around the world. Not like Abel. They praised Abel for his amazing animals and the food and clothes that they provided. Abel, as always, was the favorite child it seemed. But not this time. This time he'd show them just how productive he really was. His mother would actually be proud of him this time, and not just smile and pat him on the shoulder and say, “You did the best you could, son.” This time, he'd beat out his brother in this little competition.

------------

Or not.

He practically stormed out of the building after the gathering ceremony was finished. He had brought his finest crops this time, gathered them all up in the biggest bundle he had ever brought to the ceremony. He had worked until the skin on his palms was white and cracked.

And still they shrugged him off.

“Valiant effort, but you could've done far more, Cain,” they told him.

“They aren't quite as good as the other farmers’ but hey, better than the last batch.”

“You should see if your little brother can try and teach you about shepherding. I think that might be where your real talents are.”

The voices echoed in his head, practically mocking him. All he ever did was try, try, try! Why was that not enough? He wanted this world to prosper just as much as any of them! It wasn't his fault that this world was against him in that! If everyone else wasn't so focused on upholding the values of freedom and equality and all that other stuff his family poured into his ear, maybe they'd actually get stuff done! Maybe he could actually grow something. If only he was in charge. If only he had the ability to climb just a little higher on the ladder…

But no. That would never happen. The world had found a pattern they liked to stick to. They ran their lives by the Creed. All Cain would ever be, it seemed, was an outcast.

As he sat outside in the grim air, he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. It was clearly meant to comfort him, but it only succeeded in making him frown further in his anger.

“Go away,” he demanded, pulling away.

“Son…” the voice of his mother pleaded.

“No.”

“You take what they say too harshly, son. They don't mean to hurt you, they're just offering constructive criticism.”

“Well I don't want constructive criticism, dammit! I want people to say what I'm doing is right!”

“What you're doing is right-”

“It's not right enough for them! This is all their faults anyway! If you all weren't so stuck in upholding the Creed, this planet might actually be habitable again!”

He stood up abruptly and started to saunter away.

“Cain…” his mother protested. “Son please just-”

“No!”

He took off before she had the chance to say anything more. He just ran and ran until he reached the little patch of charred ruins that he called his private abode. He hid inside and buried his head in his hands. He grit his teeth as tears soaked his cheeks. He stayed like that for as long as he dared. He didn't care anymore. He just needed to be alone…

------------

He found himself walking back towards his parent's place a few hours later. He had finished his tantrum and he couldn't shake the feeling of guilt he had for lashing out at his mother. He still thought he was right, but he at least figured he should apologize for expressing that in such a negative way. He let himself inside and looked around for Eve.

“Mother?” he called out into the halls. No response. He made a tch noise with his tongue as he pondered where she could be. He walked until he began to hear the muffled sounds of voices coming from a room at the end of the passage. The door was slightly ajar and Cain was able to see a light flickering from inside. He approached the door, trying to hear what was being said.

“I get the feeling you called me here for more than just a nice chat, mother?” It was Abel’s voice. That made Cain reconsider his plans to enter. He froze in his tracks in front of the door. Instead of opening it up, he stuck back and peeked in through the crack. Sure enough, he saw his mother and his brother standing there. Eve had a smile full of admiration and pride. She held a small leather sack in her hands, one that seemed to hold something spherical inside.

“You can just read me like a book, huh Abel?” she laughed. “You're right. There is something special I wanted to discuss with you. If that's okay?”

Abel nodded. “Of course!” he said. Cain’s frown lowered with each word coming out of their chipper mouths.

“You have proven yourself to be quite the prodigy,” Eve told her youngest. “You're a hard worker, a kind-hearted young man, and the most devoted follower of the Creed I've ever seen. You've made me so so proud in all your years, and I think you've more than proven yourself worthy of carrying the responsibility that I'm about to present to you.”

Cain watched, eyes wide and soul shattering as his mother reached into the bag she held and from it withdrew a golden sphere, laced with the shining golden engravings of classic isu technology. It glowed like the sun as she held it in her hands. There was no mistaking what it was. It was the Apple of Eden. Cain felt his stomach drop and his blood slowly start to boil.

“I want you to be the guardian of this Apple,” Eve told Abel as he stared in awe and surprise. “It's our duty as Assassins to ensure that absolute power like this is never used by anyone, human or isu. We promote peace by giving people the freedom to choose to be peaceful. It's our job to ensure artifacts like these, tools built specifically to destroy freewill itself, are never used. I've guarded this Apple ever since I stole it in Eden over 25 years ago, and now I want you, my son, to carry that torch.”

Abel couldn't help but stare wide-eyed at the artifact as it was gently placed in his hands. He looked up at his mother. “I… of course, mother!” he said, his face like an excited puppy dog. “I… I'm honored! I don't know what to say!”

Eve just chuckled. “I'll take that as a yes, then?”

“Absolutely! I'll make sure this Apple is never used by anyone! It will remain a worthless piece of silver for as long as I breathe! You have my word!”

Eve smiled and hugged her son tight. “I knew I could count on you, Abel. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, mother.”

Cain was already storming his way out of the complex, his face red with fury and his teeth clenched as tight as his fists. He ran right back to his little hiding hole and started tossing and breaking as many objects as he could get his hands on, shouting and swearing at the top of his lungs.

“Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!” he shouted. “That little rodent! Always taking the spotlight from me! Always making my hard work seem worthless in everyone's eyes! I'm sick of it! I'm done! I refuse! I've had it with this idiotic community!”

He transformed his fit of destruction into a moment of packing up all of his essentials into a burlap sack which he slung over his back and carried with him as he stormed out the door. He didn't even look back at the Purgatory complex. He walked, and he intended to do so until he came across a land that was as far away from “civilization” as possible. He was done with his species, he was done with his family. He was done.

But despite his mind being so set on those thoughts, he couldn't help but start to feel his lips quivering and his cheeks burning as warm tears streaked down them. It wasn't long before he collapsed to his knees in the middle of nowhere, crying uncontrollably as the weight of the world was no longer something he could bare. Not anymore.

He was too caught up in his pain to realize the world around him begin to crack and glitch.

"Boss, he's failing again. I don't think he can pull it off. I mean, we've never tried setting the machine back this far and Cain’s drama is kicking his brain's ass."

The voices echoed through the sky, the crumbling sky that was very quickly shattering away to reveal the cold digital void.

“Try to start it up again. He'll pull through."

"But boss-”

The pain only got worse as the world became uniform and dark as the simulation broke down completely. It spread out from his brain and across his entire body, assaulting every last inch of his nerves. He wanted to scream. He couldn't take it anymore. He needed to get out!

"Start it again, Ms. Sheol. The man survived the whole Staff of Eden mess he put himself into with only a few scratches save for the stab in the side that his friend gave him. If he lives through this, we can get some valuable information, and maybe another plaything. If not, then at least another thorn is out of my side."

“M’kay well see I don't really have much of a choice because I haven't gotten the manual override thing hooked up yet soooo… the machine is gonna kick him out in about... now.”