Let me first say this was really interesting to write, since I know nothing about Atompunk. sadness
Also, some words are in Latin so (oof I wanted to sound fanci)
don't mind that a few things don't match up scientificly, think of the elements as "otherworldly" so they don't share the same properties. (Also untonium doesn't really exist, I literally came up with something that would work oof helps)
Finally, anything large patch of text in italics is backstory :D

can i just say I knew nothing about this topic??

Round 3 of Ohhithere1543's Writing Competition!
Theme was Atompunk
Word Count: 4999

Enjoy!~

---

Part 1:
Meteors have been falling for the last ten years. Their origins are unknown but humanity is certain of one thing. They’re dangerous. Ranging from the size of a fist to a skyscraper, each contained a lethal dose of plutonium. Or so we believed. Within weeks, entire cities were wiped out, save for a fraction of survivors affected. Or unlucky, as I liked to call them. Cursed with abnormal alterations, many wandered. The remainder of humanity called them the Prodigium. From what had been gathered, the cerebrum had been damaged, cancer spreading through the brain. The cells suppressed rational thinking, and the ability to empathize with others. The only way to cure it was death. I knew that first hand.

What had prompted armageddon? I suppose that was what we were searching for, a rationale in the madness.

A stack of papers flew into my face. “Torin! The Lab needs your brain!” a sing-song voice sang. Ugh, great. I pushed myself back from the desk, the massive table that dominated my poor excuse for a room. A wide board for a mattress and half a dozen pairs of moth eaten clothing sitting in the corner of the room carried the only semblances of my personal belongings. Besides the countless monitors mounted on the table, and the dangerously precarious stack upon stack of papers filled with theories and scribbles. Apparently a messy workspace was associated to being a super genius.

“Yeah yeah, Anthea, that’s all I’m good for anyways.” I muttered, gathering the papers and glancing at the headlines. A muscle in my jaw twitched. Graphs on aggression levels, messily scribbled notes, observations, numbers incomprehensible. I pressed my finger against my neck, searching for the familiar lump under my skin. It was dissolving by the day, just like I had planned. Satisfied, I exited my room.

Anthea stood at the door, a bright twelve year old, ready to help in any form possible. Chocolate brown curls framed her delicate face, body lanky and thin. Her sepia coloured skin appeared muted, the reds bleeding away from the absence of the sun. She grinned, face scrunching in pure joy in seeing me appear. Sometimes it took her physically dragging me away to remove me from the room.

She took off skipping, heading down the musty metal corridor. Survivors had moved underground, digging endless mazes of catacombs. Aboveground, otherwise labeled as the Foras, had been contaminated with radioactivity, to the point that breathing the very air would cause your lungs to swell and suffocate you. Special filters that opened to the underground were our lifelines to breathe.

We reached a large auditorium style room, and I narrowly dodged a flying drone carrying a small sample of beakers. A massive generator dominated the center of the room, an endless amount of tubes running to and from the contraption. It must have been at least four stories tall, and as wide as a house. A few pairs of eyes had to be monitoring the machine at all times, as it was one of the last remaining nuclear reactors that supplied us with power and energy. Ironic to say the least. The very substance that destroyed lives was a core component in survival.

Anthea skipped to the far corner, earning a few chuckles from various anaysists and tugged on the sleeve of a researcher. “I got him!” she sang.

“Good job. Why don’t you go hand these papers to Hal in the Testing Chamber?” a quiet, yet steady voice answered.

“On it!” And with that, Anthea scurried away. My hearing picked up the short conversation and huffed in exasperation but strode towards the far end of the room.

“Aren’t there more practical ways to fetch me?” I scoffed, handing the papers over.

The figure wheeled away from her desk, turning to face me. Bright crimson pixie cut hair stuck out in the oddest places, obscuring half of her freckled, pastel face. Dressed in a simple coat and dress pants, Alyx looked more beautiful than words would describe. Upon further inspection, I noticed the ribbon I had managed to salvage from last week’s search tied around the handle of her wheelchair. Once upon a time I would have blushed at the simple gesture, but no more. I forced a sly smile to my face as if I was satisfied with her keeping it, only to keep appearances.

She rolled her eyes. “Your little sister wanted something to do. And she’s the only one who can drag you out of your room without alerting the nearby Prodigium.” Her eyes drifted across me and without warning, she grabbing my wrist. “Are you okay? Your skin and hair have become paler.”

I hastily yanked my arm back, nearly hissing. Indeed, my tanned skin had turned a few shades lighter, and my hair had become a russet coloured mud, instead of matching Anthea’s chocolate brown. I was too careless. Previously I had blamed the changes, including my rapid weight loss, appearance of freckles and tiredness around my eyes to the overbearing weight of stress, but I knew the excuse wouldn’t last forever. “It’s nothing.” I snapped, and attempted to point the conversation into another direction. “Am I needed here or can I go nap?”

Alyx bit her lip but wheeled away from the desk. “Walk with me?” I gave her a pointed look and she muttered something under her breath, none of them clean. “Roll with me then?” she corrected sarcastically.

I smirked. “After you.”

She huffed, but wheeled ahead, allowing me to grab the handles and push her along. Nine years ago there was a gas explosion that had mangled her legs, rendering Alyx stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. Shuttling her around was the least I could do. “I hate to ask you this so soon, but we’re running low on uranium and will need the team to gather more.” We arrived at the machine and she peered at a few meters, noting the readings. I glanced at the contraption, silently cursing it. Going above was the last thing I wanted.

From the corner of my eye, I spied Alyx monitoring my expression from the news, so I schooled myself into neutrality. “Any reason it ran out so quickly? We were out on the Foras last week and retrieved a sizeable sample.”

She ran a hand through her hair, overtaxed. “I don’t know. The sheer size of power needed? The environment? The mere fact it may not even contain the same qualities as the plutonium we know negates the known facts.” She sighed. “Anyways, are you up for it?”

I pressed my lips into a fine line, thinking. If I went, I could find more of the item I was seeking, and avoid suspicions. After all, this was was one of my main roles on the team. But going had its drawbacks. For one, exposure to a radioactive environment, even with the protection could potentially worsen my condition. I hesitated, weighing my options.“Alright.” I finally decided. “When are we departing?”

Part 2:
I entered the Salutem, otherwise known as the doctors. “Hey Lupis, have you run the tests?” I called, poking my head into a smaller lab, filled with beakers, various chemicals and measuring instruments. The metal paneled walls were worn with rust and blackened with soot, undoubtedly from minor explosions. With no luck in scouting him out, I entered the room, browsing through the papers of his latest research.

“Don’t touch anything!” A voice shrieked, as Lupis came stumbling into the room, tripping over his very own feet onto the floor.

I shook my head in disbelief but helped him up, dusting off his lab coat. My childhood friend was a klutz, but not a single soul would deny his genius.

He brushed a lock of shoulder length ebony hair away from his face, but it simply denied its destination and flopped back onto his face, obscuring the pale skin and blood red eyes. His fingers constantly tapped against his thigh, nervous energy waiting to be released. Peering up at me, he adjusted his glasses and squinted. “Of course I ran the tests. Are you even sure this is a good idea? I still think you should at least talk to Alyx about it.”

Honestly I didn’t think it was such a good idea, but it was the only possibility to save my life. “How much has the cancer spread?” I pressed.

He shook his head sadly. “It’s been slowly moving from your neck to your brain. At this rate I would say you have a month before it turns you into a Prodigium. I’m sorry Torin.”

“Even with the plutonium I’ve been injecting into the cells?” I desperately searched for an answer. I had noticed that I had began showing symptoms of abnormalities, such as the increase in apathy, changes in appearance, and enhanced senses. My only hope was my discovery of a slightly different version of the plutonium, one that flowed radioactive blue instead of a dullish grey. I liked to call it untonium, and it was unlike any element I had ever researched. Lupis found that if treated right, theoretically it would target and eliminate cancerous cells, namely the ones that changed a human into Prodigium. I was betting my life the element would help fight it.

“Look, based on my calculations, it would take at least another chunk the size of a baseball to combat the stage you’re in. Based on the radar that identifies the qualities of the untonium, there hasn’t been a chunk that has fallen into the surrounding area. And you understand just how rare they are. Only about 5 chunks, each the size of a ping pong ball have fallen to Earth. And you’ve found them all, somehow. But if you can find a chunk that large, there’s a 98% chance it would be potent enough to reverse the damage.”

I stood in silence, taking in the news. “So there is a chance.” My eyes lit up, suddenly remembering my conversation with Alyx. “I’m scheduled to go up fo the Foras in a few days. I’ll find a way.” I paused. “You haven’t told anyone about this, have you?”

“Hey I respect your decision. If you don’t want me to share this, then I won’t. We both know how paranoid the underground gets. If anyone appears to show symptoms of a Prodigium, they’re killed out of fear. If this treatment miraculously works, then we can go public about it. If not, well you’re already dead and I can scrap the idea.” Lupis shrugged.

I laughed dryly. “Either way it’s a win win for you, isn’t it?”

“I suppose it is.” He peered at me, adjusting his glasses. “Are you still set on revealing everything to Alyx after?”

“She’d kill me if she found out anyways.”

“I hope that was a joke.”

“It’s not.”

Part 3:
Lying on my bed, the events during the day seemed unreal. I was dying, only a month left to my name. I should have been sad, in tears even. But I was not. The simple observation confirmed the sickening fact that I was becoming one of the Prodigium, unfeeling. How long would it take until I felt nothing, not even for my sister? Until I started killing without remorse? I already felt nothing for Alyx, whereas as recent as a year ago I was head over heels in love. The emotion seemed like a distant dream now.

Lupis had shooed me from the room, mumbling that he needed to run more tests, and I numbly spent the rest of my day with the research team, probing a captured Prodigium.

I held my hand up in the darkness, searching for the familiar scar. A knife wound ran from my pinky to my wrist, a grim reminder of everything I had lost all those years ago. My mother and big sister. My father. I would avenge them all by killing every last damn Prodigium.

My heart beat dully in my chest and I listened to the rhythm thump, falling into a distressed slumber.



“It’s been two weeks since the first meteor had fallen in a remote location in South Dakota. Researchers had confirmed the radioactivity and advise citizens to avoid the area. It has not been proven whether or not this will impact our daily lives, but it is certain the latest shipments of crops have been oddly-“

My mother switched off the television, turning towards the three of us. Little Anthea perched on her kiddy stool, a little two year old innocent to reality. I sat on the floor, the cheeky twelve year old happily eating his pizza and wondering when father would come home. My big sister Phee stood over the sink, helping mother wash the dishes.

“Enough of that. It’s horribly depressing.” She chided.

Phee frowned and pushed a curl of hair behind her ear. While Anthea and I took after our father, Phee was the splitting image of our mother. With wide doe eyes, hazelnut skin, and short stature, it was no wonder she had a flock of admirers at only age eighteen. She was the oldest of the three of us, and in my opinion, the smartest. Sometimes I would hear her debating with father, to the point where she left him utterly speechless. She pressed, “But isn’t Dad on the research team? Shouldn’t we watch what he does to understand it?”

Father was a nuclear engineer, otherwise known as someone who works with nuclear energies. He was always away on trips, excavating some new vein recently found or analyzing stacks upon stacks of papers in his study. I would sometimes wander in, attempting to make sense of the mess that he called his notes. Whenever father saw my scrunched face deep in concentration, he would chuckle and ruffle my hair, comforted that his son shared the same thirst for knowledge.

“He should be coming home tonight. I doubt he would be on the most recent expedition.” Mother explained.

Phee huffed, but didn’t object further.

I was happy, living in content with my family. Everything was perfect. But little did I know things would get shot to hell within twenty four hours.



A rough hand shook me awake, I cracked open an eye to spy mother frantically trying to rouse me from unconsciousness, bundling me up in her arms. “We need to get out of here now.” She sobbed. I couldn’t understand why. What was wrong?

As if to answer my question, my mother suddenly arched back, coughing up blood onto my terrified face. A blade narrowly missed my head, but instead sunk into her heart. With a sickening grown she crumpled, dropping my bundled form to the cold floor below.

At first my brain wouldn’t register the scene before me. My father stood, face smeared with blood, a maniac smile plastered across his face. His simple dress shirt and pants were torn, and i glimpsed vicious knife marks that crisscrossed his skin.

But the most terrifying piece of it all was the knife he held, still dripping with mother’s blood. With her last ounce of strength, she twisted her head towards my direction and breathed a single word I would never forget. “Run.”

Father, or if I could even call him that anymore snarled and drove the blade home, embedding itself into my mother’s neck, silencing her. She died with tears in her eyes.

I screamed, my voice shattering any sense of security. It was the wrong move to make, as his narrow eyes trained on my fallen form. Plucking the knife from the corpse, he crawled his way over to me. I laid there, petrified, fully knowing my life was about to end.

Crack. Father fell forward, lump forming along his neck. Stunned, but not dead. Phee stood over his fallen form, trembling with a golf club in her hand. In the other she clutched Anthea, her bundled form for once staying silent.

She motioned me to my feet and we took off, stumbling in the dark. “Where are we going?” I questioned.

“Be quiet.” She muttered. “I didn’t kill Dad, only momentarily stunned him. I checked outside, there are more of them. We need to hide out in the tornado shelter.”

I nodded, completely trusting my big sister. She had just saved my life after all. We headed towards the living room and I tossed aside the rug, revealing a trapdoor. I yanked open the door and started descending down the rugs.

“Where are yooouuu?” The voice of father echoed through the halls, slowly growing in size. He entered the room, and Phee paled. She passed me Anthea and motioned for me to continue descending and hefted the club, rising to her feet.

I hurried my way down and placed Anthea on the worn mattress, and made my way up the rungs again. Curiosity had always been my downfall.

Phee stood facing off with my father, bleeding from shallow wounds. “Phee!” I called.

She whipped her head around, eyes wide. “Get down!”

In that moment, father took the opening and lunged, tackling Phee to the ground. She squirmed, trying to desperately to keep the knife away from her face. But slowly, it inched towards her chest, my father’s sheer strength overpowering adrenaline.

I leapt from the opening, snatching the fallen golf club. My father swiveled his head towards the noise, giving the Phee the moment to roll away. He snarled, and lunged towards my face. In sheer desperation I threw my hands up, praying for him to miss.

The agony of metal slicing through flesh was unimaginable. Pain danced across my nerves, adrenaline rushing through my veins. I yanked myself away, taking the knife with my palm and it flew across the room, landing with a thud on the floor.

Phee reared up and in that moment, made a mistake that would cost her life. She hesitated, peering at the face that had praised her, laughed with her, cried with her, and would kill her. That was her one weakness, born with such a large heart.

A second hidden blade whizzed through the air, embedding itself into her torso. Of course. Someone as smart as my father would never commit to any project without a backup plan.

Phee fell, buckling over in short gasps. He kicked her, and her fallen form sprawled across the floor, blood pooling.

Some humane thing in me snapped and I let loose a blood curdling scream, bringing the golf club down on the murderer. Again and again, metal driving into flesh. I hammered his back, his neck, his head, any piece of him I could reach. I wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop until he was dead.



“Torin.” Phee’s voice croaked. My vision sharpened back into focus and my mind pieced together comprehensive thoughts of the last few moments. Involuntarily, I glanced down, and my stomach dropped about five hundred feet. I couldn’t even begin to describe the deformed lump that had once been my father. I stumbled away, retching pizza onto the floor. “Torin.” Phee murmured again.

My eyes snapped up and I tottered my way over to Phee’s fallen form, dropping to my knees. She was gaunt, ragged breath forming irregularly. “Bandages…” I rasped, eyes searching.

Her hands caught mine, tugging against mine. “No, use it on yourself.” She held up my palm, at the blood that still trickled out and closed her eyes. “Hey Torin?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry I can’t protect you anymore.” She let out a final sigh, and grew still, hand limp against mine.

Part 4:
I shot up in my cot, cold sweat breaking down my spine. After that, I had retreated down into the tornado shelter with Anthea and stayed her for an incomprehensible amount of time before rescuers came to find us.

Blaming my father for the horrors he put me through was a simple answer, and for a period of time I had cursed his name. But as they say, time heals all wounds. Ten years later, my anger had been redirected towards the Prodigium, and the way my father was twisted, unable to reason with himself. Analyzing it now, it was clear he had been infected, most likely on his last term before death.

I groaned, rolling to the edge of the board. There was no indication of time, but I reasoned it had been roughly six hours. With a sigh, I rose from the bed, lifting it up from the elevated concrete floor. Underneath revealed a simple briefcase, and I retrieved it, popping it open.

Inside was filled with multiple syringes, each one containing a small dose of vibrant blue liquid. I took one out, flicking the capsule. I quickly wiped my wrist with an alcohol wipe, a disinfectant to ward off a death by contamination. The liquid sloshed around and I held it steady against my wrist. The familiar warmth spread through my body, as I pressed the plunger. The untonium lasted for a month, coursing through my system to combat the plutonium. But according to Lupis, this dose wasn’t enough.

The briefcase was deposited back under the board and I rose, heading towards the command room. I supposed I was ready.



It was imperative we wore hazmat suits when in the Forna. Over time, a synthetic material had been developed that resisted the nuclear energy in the air. It was simply called the Causa 4.0, perfected to survive the environment.

“Torin, pay attention.” Alyx scolded. I hadn’t realized I was drifting again. Damn.

“What were you saying?”

She huffed. “Here’s the extractor,” she placed a sizable backpack looking capsule onto my back, “and recently we’ve designed a new gun. It should draw from the atoms in the air and compress them in short, concise sparks, so what you’re running on is simply nuclear energy.” A gun-like weapon was placed in my hand, almost resembling those laser blasters you would see in sci-fi movies. I looked at her eagerly. “Yes, this one is getting closer to a solid laser beam.” Alyx rolled her eyes at my childish behavior. At least I could still feel happiness for the most trivial things.

I surveyed the other members of the team, noting how small it was. We were only three strong including myself. Each person was indistinguishable with the muted grey hazmat suit equipped, but it was clear they were reliable. Alyx wouldn’t send me on a team this miniscule without proper reason. The first figure turned to face me. “Melissa Lial, reporting for duty. Ready to serve, sir!”

“Oliver Pelemgran here. I hope to be of use to you.” He saluted.

I cocked my head at Alyx. I should have been worried for the safety of these two. It was clear that they were naive, admiring me to the point of absurdity. Unprofessional even. Why would Alyx send me with a pair of undertrained scouters, when she fully knew the dangers of the Forna?

Whatever she was thinking, it was clear she had a hidden agenda, but I had plans of my own.

A researcher prattled on, spouting the usual information said before an expedition. It only further confirmed my suspicions on the team’s inexperience, but I kept my mouth shut. Leaders didn’t complain. “You’ll be given one week. If you’re not back by then, we will assume you are dead and close the opening. It’s impossible to expose the entryway from the outside.” I knew this already, but hearing it said always left me with a grim notion. The underground wouldn’t hesitate to abandon a comrade if it meant saving their own hides.

Alyx looked me square in the eye. “Ready?”

We nodded. “Ready.”



The Forna was really a silly way scientists had labeled the wasteland that was the overworld. Cities had been decimated, along with their habitability. Crops withered, water became polluted, and the very air turned toxic. Filters in the suits, similar to the ones installed underground, were the only protection against suffocation. Animals had mutated along with the humans, and many plant species had turned carnivorous. Word was it that the Amazon had been reneamed The Eaten Death, for that very reason.

We trudged along the cracked streets, following the flow. I felt the familiar tug of the plutonium as it reacted with the untonium in my system. Steering the team towards the source was tricky, as I didn’t wish for them to question exactly how I managed to make a beeline towards the vein.

Twice Oliver and Melissa attempted to strike conversation through the walkie talkies embedded in the suit, but I deftly avoided them, answering with short concise answers. I couldn’t get distracted from our goal, and the underlying fear of any nearby Prodigium.

When it got dark we made camp in a wide open field, as it would prevent any ambushes. Simple airtight pouches with liquid goo served as our food, able to reach our mouths by an airtight opening, in which a simple tube went from the pouch to our mouths. Each move was dangerous, as any malfunction, any trip in the process would mean death.

I decided to keep first watch, since it was clear those two were accustomed to the harsh environment. Every noise set me on edge. Was it a stray animal, or a Prodigium? I could never tell.

The sheer level of nervousness alarmed me, not because of my surroundings. My mind thought back to a few months ago, when I started noticing that my paranoia had become dangerously obsessive. Lupis had confirmed it, that it was a symptom, the cancer encroaching onto the more sensitive parts of my hippocampus. It was frustrating, watching myself change while knowing that the person I was becoming would soon become a danger to all, and I could do almost nothing to stop it.

Without realizing it, I had managed to keep watch throughout the entire night. Nor did I feel any fatigue, no matter how much I mentally willed myself to, simply to appear normal. Increased stamina, just like father had as he was able to rise from a blow to the head within moments.

We reached the vein by midday in an abandoned building, Oliver and Melissa whooping for joy as it came into view. I feigned enthusiasm, high fiving the both of them. I needed to lose them, so I could go searching for untonium on my own.

A twang in my stomach sounded, an animalistic reaction to danger. I snatched both their suits and yanked them back as a net shot from behind a hidden pile of rubble. They stared dumbfounded as it landed at their feet, crackling with energy.

I threw them behind me and drew my gun. “Who’s there?” I challenged.

“Tor-” Melissa’s scream was cut off and I whirled, gun raised to find her hazmat suit slashed at the throat. Oliver was trembling in the arms of a cloaked figure, knife pressed against his windpipe.

“I want you to drop the gun and turn around slowly with your hands up.” A familiar steady voice commanded. I paled. No no no.

My gun clattered to the floor and I turned, palms raised. Alyx was standing there, miraculously free from her wheelchair and a hazmat suit. Both of which should have been impossible. Three others stood with her, and like their leader, none of them wore the suits. “Your legs. How?” Suddenly it dawned on me. “This was all set up, wasn’t it. There was never any shortage in energy levels. Why did you keep this from me? What do you hope to gain?”

“Ask another question and I’ll kill Oliver where he stands.” She whispered, deadly calm. I saw it then. The madness in her eyes, the way her fingers twitched uncontrollably. No longer was she the kind sensible Alyx I knew, but in her place stood a Prodigium. Infected. Another loved one gone, snatched from any chance at life. ”As for why my legs work again, it’s true the explosion had rendered them useless. My savior was the untonium, as it mended the tissue and nerves.”

She tossed a brilliant blue sphere, the size of a baseball towards my face and on pure instinct, I caught it. I could feel the energy thrumming through my hands as I beheld the largest chunk of untonium I had ever seen. They key to my survival. “There’s more where that came from.” She continued. I didn’t question exactly how she knew I was searching for the element. Lupis’s workshop was a mess, and even if he didn’t say anything Alyx could’ve easily found papers on the matter.

I raised my hand, inquiring if I could speak. She nodded. “What’s the catch?” I asked, skeptical.

She smiled crookedly. “Smart as ever. That was probably why I fell in love with you. Still am, just...different now. And that is the very reason I’ve brought you here today.” She stepped closer. “The world is changing Torin. Hiding like cowards underground won’t last. Those fools just won’t listen to reason, but I knew you would. I want you to join us. We already have Anthea in our possession. It’s time to take back the aboveground. You’ve been thirsting to kill a few Prodigium, haven’t you?”

Indeed, that very reason was why I wasn’t rejecting her on the spot. And Anthea. They had her. But something was missing here. Something she wasn’t telling me. “And Oliver?” I pressed.

“He’ll join us. Or die.” She shrugged. “His choice.” My mind was already whirring with possible scenarios, eyes darting for possible escapes. As if knowing my intentions, each of Alyx’s men positioned themselves in front of an exit route.

“Will you have enough to cure me?” I motioned towards the item in my hand.

“Of course.”

Going along with this plan was the safest I could do. At least, I would be rid of the sense of impending doom, even if it costed me my empathy. “Alright. Lead the way.”

---

I hope you enjoyed my story, and tell me what you think! <3
(I bet no one actually read through it all oof it was 9 pages on a doc ;^;)