The necessity of conviction by Brian Yao

Bram woke up early the next morning. In a few days, he would be dead. It was a shame he couldn’t say goodbye to his family; they were across the world in Europe. Having just immigrated recently, he had no friends in the United States either. Perhaps some members of the clones’ rights movement would attend his funeral. Would they be able to continue the movement in his absence? He hoped so.

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Sci fi creative embroilment by Jack Whitehouse

In these slow minds feel slow times, in yet harsh eyes feel knives like fine sculptors; dancing in the eye of oblivion. Crept like villains in the canvas of war, stood amongst many mighty yet they alone were stoic. Knew they a finer future to life than to greet divinities servant at the gate and be subservient as a stag, hate was a harder metal than hope. Passions well read, had spools of space set out and softly so: retold as a binding than a briar. Befallen sins then all falls stopped together and so was set. 
Years to the day, scriptures of sacred statues set out the stars and mapped enigmas – drawing lines between dots drawn by buried scholars. As days became less and fewer, scientists set out from time to truly living; encountered rather than ran from a faster fate, making their final moments a gallery else a tomb for all futures.
Hellfire rode across Earth’s leagues as a curse in chasing, basking vast cobalt oceans in a belt of fire; those living suffered as all Eve’s. Valleys, mountains and monuments of harmony fell into the claws of clouds of dust, bearing down upon all living life with ferocity. In these final moments, a rare few Architects stood together against the winds and confined fragments of life in a small vessel. Encased this in pure obsidian, basalt and compounds of shales in which to preserve its cargo unto the vast depths of space.
Those elder marvels were truly magnificent, far ahead in subjects of science but in the blanket of isolation they bore conflicts of compassion and uttered war into peace where without it was before. You see, there were a many men in so few a sea hence became a great arms race of sorts: telescopes turned to atoms from the cosmos unto means of mass destruction. Emergency broadcasts rang from all homes at all hours till it was as a ticking to the reapers tock; as all death became unlocked, so flocked.

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