The History of the Armageddicon.

Armageddicon Armageddicon II Armageddicon III Armageddicon IV Armageddicon Victory Armageddicon 6 (six)


In the late 21st century mankind was amidst a golden age, relishing in a renaissance of unparalleled unity, peace, art, and science. Upon concluding that space colonization was an impossible dream with no place in reality, people regained a strong attachment to their land, and with the globalization of money and communication people quickly stopped thinking of themselves as citizens of a nation, but of the world itself. In a single generation the world unified, governments homogenized, economies were joined, and conflicts between cultures were eliminated. The revolutions were brief, few, and for the most part bloodless. By the 2080ís crime was non-existent, and the streets were full night and day. Education was valued above all else, and it was common for people to continue studying throughout their entire lives. People lived in communities, the village raised the child, and few hours were spent alone in ones home. People shared in art and music, every street corner and town square had a live band, literature flowed, poets recited prose in parks to an attentive audience, walls inside and out were decorated by colorful originals. Scientific knowledge expended rapidly and developments in engineering, medicine, computers, and transportation followed quickly.

April 30th 2095 will be remembered as the apex of human society, for at the stroke of noon on that day the world ended. In an instant 95% of humans ceased to live. For seven days the devastation continued. The cities crumbled, the winds blew fire, and those who lived wished they had been among the dead. Oceans rose, fell, and dried away. Ice froze the continents to the bone before being scorched away. When the soil stabilized, the skies cleared, and the plagues lifted the few who lived found themselves without food, water, or society. Mankind was at the end of its story. The population fell below the critical mark, even if people re-amassed there would not be enough to repopulate the planet. In the absence of government, kinship, or even the sight of other men, most fell to depression, fatigue, or starvation.

However, there was one group that had no need of society. Sheltered deep in basements or wedged into tiny efficiencies, disconnected from the mass media and normal human interaction one class of man found itself almost entirely intact. That anti-social faction had deep personal reserves of ramen packets, Mountain Dew, and Peach Schnapps. Their walls fortified by layers of books, their sanity preserved in PC's with battery backups, those who could live indefinitely without human contact thrived. They were the Otaku.

As if collectively aware of what needed to be done, they began a great migration. Picking up their meager belongings, and treking out into the great wide world they left the shelter of their homes and traveled through the vast stretches of waste and rubble. They knew there was no hope for man, that another baby would never be born to this planet, but there was still one last thing that needed to be done. Over the course of an entire year they converged. Small groups merged to form larger ones. Large groups merged to form mighty armies. Droves were picked off by unknown forces, but still more marched. Somehow pulled to an underground reactor that still could provide them with power, it's thick walls protecting them from the unseen forces of death.

There, with no expectation of future or life, the Otaku chose not to plan a new society, not to ration food, to procure medicine, not even to repopulate the human race. They chose to party. The end had come, and though modern man may never realize it, deep within every loser who holds on too tightly to fantasies and adventures is the heart of a hero! The heart of a man who in the face of a raging beast will fight! That in the face of annihilation will raise a glass to the approaching storm and live life to the very last moment just to spite it! And so these otaku shook their awkwardness, their cowardice, and their inhibitions. They were overtaken by their strength, courage, and guts! Three days they partied, no concern given to hiding, no fear of the missiles certain to rain down upon them! That party after the end of the world, to celebrate the final extinction of their own species was dubbed "The Armageddicon".

But the final blow did not come.


Eventually they all passed out and woke up a few days later. Slowly they came to three universal, consecutive conclusions. The first was that they had survived beyond the end. The second was that pretty much every girl had gotten pregnant. The third was that they not had responsibility and obligation to the next generation and couldn't afford to drink themselves to death in the absence of a maelstrom of explosives. They chose at that moment that they would not fade away, but rather would rebuild, and would strike with vengeance at fate, the void, nature, death, life, and whoever the fuck blew up their planet. Like fevered, amphetamine addicted beavers they worked to rebuild. They recovered technologies, dug cities, and began raising their young. Then, a year after the first Armageddicon, they all rejoined again at the reactor. There was to be great reflection on the past year. The plan was to pay homage to their 0% death-rate, and to doubling the population in just a year. There was to be many awards given and speeches made. There was to be much talk about the direction humanity was headed, where to go, how to plan for the children, how to manage a representative government, and so forth.

That didn't happen though. Instead they got drunk again and partied all over, and produced another (as would later be described by the poet laureate) "shit ton of babies". During the course of events they also hooked up the reactor to a series of hyper-particle cannons and fired wildly into a space. And thus the second Armageddicon was not just a celebration of the life they had pulled from the ashes of their charred planet, but a declaration of war against anything that dared to get in their way. Following Armageddicon II (as it was later known) they decided to reserve the title "Armageddicon" specifically for a celebration at the end of days. Some argued the second was not a true Armageddicon, but others argued it was the philosophical end of the transition from death to life. Following that event civilization stabilized and settled into a sustainable place. Birthrates remained excessively high, as did spirits.

For 100 years society remained rowdy, wild, and expansive. During those hundred years their salt was tested time and time again by attacks on Earth from alien fleets of starships. Earths space navy grew mighty, their defenses impenetrable, and their space artillery vicious and unmerciful. Finally, in the year 2198, the long awaited counter-attack was made. With a fleet unfathomably powerful, built entirely to devastate an entire world, Mankind would have its revenge. The ships had radioactive astroids strapped to them to drop from outer orbit, below that pods of missiles, below them downward facing beam weapons to melt anything under them during the fly-by. The hulls were made to vaporize into toxic gas should they be hit with any weaponry from within the planet, the bays filled with drill craft to bore to the molten core, shatter the tectonic plates, and reduce the surface a wasteland of lave and sulfur. The steam in the atmosphere would be irradiated with microwaves from the star to vaporize any wayward fleets responding to the attack on their home-world. There was no question of whether or not we would win, only how many of us they would take with them. The night before the attack, the entire population of the Earth celebrated the onset of battle with the third Armageddicon. On every city, in every station, on every ship man, woman, and child rocked the fuck out, partying like it was their last night on the world. The casualties were indeed high, but the battle was one. Earth returned to them what they had done to us over one hundred years prior, but where they fell short we mercilessly completed. All their armies, all their accomplishments, their entire world, and every last of their species was destroyed completely.

Alas, peace did not come to Earth, and victory tasted of ashes. In the void left by the attackers (their name never learned by the people of Earth), many new powers rose, many militant. In the following year many species repressed by the attackers came to light, and by the end of the year relations broke down and a great galactic war was fought between the hundreds of waring factions. Being thrown into such an inglorious conflict so soon after what everyone thought to be the end of fighting dropped moral to an all time low. The battles were far from Earth, and because of the great distances even if fleets were to return, it would be decades, if not centuries after they launched in relative time. Soldiers left knowing that a week to them was years to their families, and that more likely than not they would never see the ones they were fighting to protect again, regardless of the outcome of the fight. Much like how the second Armageddicon was something of an aftershock of the first, the fourth was held a year after the third. It was the first not to be celebrated on Earth, and it was known only to the soldiers among a great combined fleet sailing deep into the sea of stars. It began as the slow humming or patriotic songs, but escalated to singing, then shouting, then practically rioting. It was both a dirge to the life they left behind, but a challenge to the future, a demand of adventures to come! "Fuck going back to Earth if it will be 200 years later, after the battle we'll become space pirates, or conquistadors, or whatever the hell we feel like!" It was a declaration of the freedom and exhilaration, and the reclamation of something that humanity had not had in the past century: the freedom to chose what to do next. They would start their own civilization in the stars, and travel as a floating continent of balls, passion, and exploration!

The fleets launched in 2199 were the last of their kind. Following those battles, Earth was no longer challenged. Local defenses were maintained, but aggressive actions and long-range missions were halted.

Following the successful defense of Earth, mankind was blessed with centuries of peace. Humanity thrived, and after the 2299 celebration of their 100 years of victory, it was marked that the 24th century would begin the great demilitarization of Earth and its satellites. Survival was no longer key, and only the very old remembered the great energy and life that one experiences when you may be killed at any point. There were now many generations that had never known combat, only military service and the discipline that goes with it.

The great cannons and orbital defense platforms were not dismantled. The deep space patrols were not canceled. The great gravity cannons of Jupiter and Saturn, and the concentrated particle station in low solar orbit were kept online. The threat of a surviving rogue fleet of enemies trapped out of time happening upon Earth was still of concern. However, military enrollment was no longer mandatory. Rationing programs and evacuation drills were cancelled. The government was moved to civilian rule, democracy became politicized, rather than being a representation of the general will of the people. Private industry became rich and powerful, corporations were de-regulated, and by 2500 money had become king. Corporations lobbied for greater control of the government, media and news became a commodity, and politics became ugly. Law became a matter of money and lawyers, rather than justice. Civil suits far outnumbered criminal proceedings, with lawsuits and liability cases crowding the halls of justice. Most dramatically, the human race which had remained united in hearts and minds for nearly 200 years of conflict and mutual threat became divisive. People were most interested in their own welfare and wealth, rather than collective good. Political affiliation now held more bearing than regional affiliation. News was no longer a matter of reporting facts, but of amplifying opinions. Objective coverage was not as profitable as slanted ranting. Media outlets became the tools of propaganda, encouraging hate and contempt between different camps of political and social ideology. Everything became politicized. Matters of science and history became topics for debate. Disagreeing was considered a valid counter-argument to empirical evidence. Logic and reason were eschewed.

Then, in 2611, something happened. A great fleet thousands of ships strong, holding hundreds of millions of soldiers returned to Earth. Several of the great fleets from the wars had returned from a distant edge of the galaxy. Though hundreds of years had passed on Earth, for them it had only been 8 years since they had left Earth, and only 2 since they had been in combat. Many fleets had started their own societies deep across the galaxy, but these troops had collectively decided that even if everyone they had known or loved was gone, they still wanted to live on their home that they had saved.

Upon arrival they were treated as heroes. Though four hundred years had passed, history had not forgotten them, and they were happily welcomed as legendary warriors by the civilians of this era. The pleasure was not mutual, however. These soldiers had left at a time of collective pride and nationalism. The universe had sent mankind a challenge, and they responded as one indivisible force. United, man worked for the general good. They shared food and wealth, worked hard together and fought side by side. Each one was responsible for everyone's lives. Petty squabbles of differences were ignored in the face of the greater good. United as brothers, those who were greedy or selfish were spat upon and exiled. Furthermore, as a race of warriors, personal issues were settled through argument or fist fighting. Passion was king, and expression was clear and honest.

Now they came back from war, to find the people they had sacrificed so much for fighting amongst each other, squabbling over matters that seemed less than trivial next to the missions of their era. Now everyone was dishonest, getting too excited or loud was criticized. Throwing a punch could land you in jail for the night. Shouting someone down could have you sued for harassment. After almost a year of trying to integrate into the society of lawyers and politicians, the warriors concluded that such a task would be impossible to them. Furthermore, these Argonauts all collectively felt that they had a shared duty to save mankind once again, this time from itself.

They took stock of their tools. A population the size of a small nation, a fleet of ships each capable of devastating a world that had not yet been disarmed, burning spirits and passion. The limited tools offered a multitude of tactics. Some atrocious, some subversive, some passive. All viable. The need was clear, which tactic was the only question.

Hanging in orbit, these masses joined together in feast, drink, and debate to form a new incarnation of an Armageddicon. No longer was it a celebration of life in the face of death, it was the celebration of a way of life in the face of soullessness.






























Armageddicon Victory was fought at the end of time. Great forces beyond comprehension came to play. Though they astronomers concluded that it took place in the year 9910 it was speculated that time had become cyclical and this was an indeterminable number of cycles into the future. All the great warriors who had ever lived lined up to fight side by side. Greek gods and Roman legions stood along side Saiyan warriors and The Big Red One. Space became something you could plant a flag on, and tanks, dogs, battleships, and titans all had equal strength. What they stood against could not be defined. That is not to say that it was unknown, but rather that it was THE unknown. A great cosmic void, the great undoing perhaps. A force, or the lack there of, devouring time and space alike. Not even the boiling down of a galaxy, not even the unveiling of a universe, but rather an erasure of all that ever was and all that would be. Standing ten thousand abreast and uncountably deep every being with a warriors heart that had ever known existence lined up to do battle. All together creating an energy denser than any mass.


Our existence proves they continue to victor. Anyone with Armageddicon in their hearts carries with it the fight.
 

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