From The Monoverse: A Non-Linear Sci-Fi Epic
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Picture this: A large house in a crime-free, gated district on the outskirts of the capital of Mars. It was what I had always dreamed about -- no traffic, friendly people, family by your side... The works.

At least that's what they baited us with until we arrived here.

The truth was far from it, in fact. Those houses didn't even exist, and most people roamed the poorly constructed streets of Mars. Plagued with little-to-no shelter, there were lines at every food and water dispersion facility. It's not hat there wasn't enough food or water go go around, it was that there just so many people, always, everywhere.

New transport ships came everyday from Luna, full of more ignorant idiots looking to make a new life in the "Age of New Humanity" as they called it. Everyone had their illusions of grandeur -- becoming successful and rich. As if it were any different now than it was back on Earth.

The truth of the reality is that we all wanted to believe it was possible this time around. So many more new opportunities were possible now, but it has never been more same -- in fact it is so much harder than it had been.

It's been a few months since I got here, and I still haven't made up my mind about what to do and where to go. The people I knew all hitched aboard a transport shuttle, picked a direction, and left. It was a crap shoot to begin with.

They asked me why I wanted to stay.

I honestly didn't know. Something about being built up on a fantasy, and being let down entirely laced its way through my reasoning. For some sycophantic reason, I wanted to make that fantasy a reality. I wanted to make Mars what it was said to be: a new start for everyone, no matter your past.

My past and all that I knew headed off in a shuttle. They fell asleep within hours and I will never see them again.

During their journey, I hope the dreams they have along the way come to fruition, as the dream that I hold dear will have to be created entirely by my own hands.

I don't usually write my thoughts in this fashion, and it will most likely never be done again.

Brett Nordrakson

3rd February 26 UY 1