Apologies in advance to those with bad internet (and for the long wait). Just a few loose ends before we wrap this all up. Knowing me, that probably translates into another few months. Eheh.
Welp. Enjoy the fall.
One by one the pillars broke loose as the old tower creaked on its side. Within it was a society on the verge of hysteria. Dwarves swarmed downstairs like ants in a fire, but with none of the finesse. Akin to beasts, they trampled and fought and scrambled over one another, each fighting to escape the teetering megastructure, yet each coming to the same horrible sinking realisation that all exits were damaged beyond measure, and that their only real resort was to follow the tumbling stocks down. By then it was already too late; the stampede had swept them afar, and only their screams and protests remained coursing through the air. All this, until the last of the supports blew apart.
The world froze in motion. A single moment that stretches out into infinity, forty thousand blocks and bars suspended in the void. Awaiting the summons of gravity. Across the far-reaching expanses, across the winter slopes, across the endless night sky. The silence of the world was palpable. Eternity passed in that moment, a siren call reverberating across the universe machine, cycling, awaiting a response…
And then slowly, it seems like the particles begin to drift into motion. Each following their own trajectories, slow, yes, but if you look
closely you can see them. Their gentle rotation, their axial spins, and ultimately, their destinations. Clink. The universe machine winds down. There is brief calm before the storm. A final snapshot of Valhalla in the sky. It is decided.
Clink.Entire floors flattened as the tower buckled in an instant, crushing beneath it all traces of the old quarters; a cacophony of voices lost under the grinding collapse. High above, the Cheese Wheel crashed out of the clouds, a rolling giant of orthoclase that barrelled through the mausoleums and tore itself apart into a blanket cover of blocks. The walls scream in protest as the tower swayed wildly in a futile attempt to keep some form of structure, yet failing to do so, as the central staircase folds twenty floors down into the mines. With its spine broken, Constructivory spirals into freefall.
The tower explodes into a million pieces as it descends from the sky, screeching down the stratosphere at ninety miles per hour. No longer tethered to the will nor want of the dwarves who helped shaped it, who too, fall, amidst a roaring whirlwind of trivialities, pants, bricks, hatches, statues, cages and everything in between, that blotted out the sun and shattered what little illusion that remained of the blue skies above. They tumbled like leaves in a storm, flailing hopelessly through the air, some battered, some bruised, and some untouched till the end - but all met their demise at the ground's hand.
Crumbling before them were the icons of Constructivory in freefall: the massive Bell, the great Palace, the iconic Mark. All splitting apart at their seams approaching terminal velocity. Always going faster and faster and ever so faster the collection plummets as it descends down the final mile, countless particles of varying densities and sizes tearing down the horizon. It witnesses the ground rise up to meet its challenge, and accelerates further in response, till it breaches that final barrier – at last! – that final moment, crashing against the world with all the pent-up fury of sixteen years of construction, shattering into an enraged kaleidoscope of shape and colour, painting the floor a million traces of rubble.
With each thunderous impact shockwaves race across the embark, kicking up dust clouds the size of towers, the breadth of mountains. Each impact hammers its might into the earth, ripping indelible crater-scars for an eternity. The roaring of the destruction reaches a climax – a deafening, thundering, inescapable bass that consumed the senses and annihilated all thought and intent, replacing it with nothing but a primal urge to dig, to hide, from all the noise and destruction, into the darkest and deepest of all caves, to flee to flee to fleeeeeeee...
...until it gradually echoes and echoes away into silence.
Nothing but the silence of the dead, and the vast empty expanse of space that once used to be Constructivory.
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Topic: // Fall of the Succession Tower: Constructivory \\ (Read 278498 times)