[spoiler]This is my entry for the DFA Writing Contest, which will end on the 13th. As a judge, my entry can’t win the contest, but I wanted to write one anyway. Here’s a link to the contest page for anyone interested in participating or reading the entries: https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/256177639/0/0 [/spoiler] Due to length constraints, this story has been split into 2 parts. The link to Faction Part 2 can be found at the bottom of this post ______________________________________ “We need one leader! One voice to lead us!” “One person can’t be trusted to make all the right decisions!” “Oh? And a bunch of corrupt bureaucrats can?!” “Better than handing unlimited power to ONE corrupt bureaucrat!” I watched the two men from the narrow nook between two tents. It had started with the first setting up in the middle of the intersection of muddy paths between rows of shelters and camps to orate to all the passerby about choosing someone to govern the remnants of humanity that had crawled their way to this place. No one was surprised when a second man stepped up and turned the political campaign into a shouting match. There were many other spectators clinging to the edges of the paths, watching with tired eyes and heavy, worn clothes. We were living on the fringe of the society that had blossomed here from the shattered fragments of humanity, barely scraping a living from the still-forming laboral infrastructure. I myself was starting a farm some miles out beyond the scattered mess of camps and had come in for some supplies, but even way out here away from the small city that was being built up in the center of the new society, politics had a tight grip on people who had come from towns run by armed tyrants and now wanted to live under a better system. I looked away from the arguing men and to the small, dingy buildings not too far off over the tops of tents and tarps. Further beyond them there were half-finished frames of larger and sturdier structures rising above the mess of unstable homes. But it was higher still that my eyes wandered, to the moon-sized object hovering in the sky just above it all like a big white ball of broken ice. The Traveler, everyone called it. The town I came from only had a few rumors and tales about it from the Golden Age, but that had been enough for me to want to start over here. Everyone had come in search of answers and safety, yet so far the only help we had received had been from each other, not the dormant giant that had once given us everything. “Stop, friends! The enemy is not each other! War surrounds us and we must stand united against it!” A third voice rose in the din. There were several people clustered together in the argument, as it had been going for some time now. I didn’t think that a single one of them was on the same side. “Shut up, War Cult loon!” There was some shoving, and the man in a purple robe who had tried calming the others stumbled back from the circle. There was more commotion and swinging arms for a minute, but it broke up soon enough and went back to just raised voices. “We can’t have a soldier leading us!” A woman in the midst declared. “Or a wealthy man. We need to elect a good, honest man.” “Name one!” “You’d pick a backstabbing manipulator!” “Like the one that has you on his payroll?!” Things were getting tense, but no one watching walked away or tried to break it up. In fact, more people were growing bold enough to step into the debate. “At least I don’t preach about a dead god saving us!” A single arm stretched up to point at the Traveler looming over us. Suddenly, it was violent. Most of the others on the street shrank back as fists flew and bodies collided in the mass of people. But then, as quickly as they had jumped on each other, everyone was scrambling away. Through the parting bodies I spotted three figures still standing at the street’s center, and one sprawled out on the ground. The one standing above the downed man had gotten his cloak’s hood ripped in the brawl to expose most of his face. Instead of flesh there was metal, and blue lights replaced the eyes. This was only the second time I had seen one of the machine men, and I couldn’t help but take a step away from the tents to stare at him. I heard they claimed to be humans put into machines in the Golden Age, and the first one I had met had called itself an Exo. Frankly, I believed them. The miracles of the Golden Age were nothing short of sorcery. Others, however, thought of them as no more than glorified cars pretending to be human. “Walk away, scrap metal!” One of the other two men still standing in the middle ordered, fists raised for a fight. No one else stepped to their aid. Everyone was just as surprised by the appearance of the Exo as I was, and just as afraid of what it might do. “I leave,” the metal man’s voice was so human in contrast to his appearance it disturbed me, and the way he stood at ease while confronted gave him an air of confidence that I was certain he could back up, “After you leave. Victors don’t retreat. You can come back for your friend later.” Negotiations were cut shorter than expected. The man who hadn’t spoken rushed the Exo and hooked his fist across his opponent’s face. The man automatically backed off, clutching his bleeding hand and screaming in pain. The Exo hardly moved at the impact, although I was sure he could have dodged if he had wanted to by the way he decided to take the hit. He didn’t bother wiping the blood and torn skin off of the sharp edges of metal where his cheek would be. Raising his right leg, the Exo gave the man a soft kick to the rear so that he stumbled out of the circle, which I had found myself joining as everyone closed back in to watch. “Light-forsaken can,” the remaining man spat at the mechanical man, then turned his head a little to address the crowd, “You see this?! Do you want people like this in charge?! Making our decisions for us and beating us when we don’t-!” He was cut short with a wheeze and slumped over onto the shoulder of the woman who had appeared before him, seemingly out of thin air. Her fist was driven into his stomach, and she let him slide off to the ground before standing to face the Exo. She wore full-body armor and had a rifle slung over her back, and an aura of power was coming off of her. “Break it up everyone. This turf is under protection.” ______________________________________ Link to [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/256299490/0/0]Faction Part 2[/url] For more of my work, check out my [url=https://www.bungie.net/en/Forum/Post/217384398/0/0]Archive[/url]