Our Bygone Age

An exploration of identity in the face of adversity; A romance in the least opportune of times.

[ourbygoneage]

Illuminati Chat: Crazy Train

Koshka [12:03 AM]: Hey, SoldierX, have you heard anything about the THULE project swarming west? It seems like a coordinated movement, but I can't figure out the reason behind it.

SoldierX [12:09 AM]: Yeah, I noticed that too. I thought LCaveat had something to do with it. They've been known to pull strings behind the scenes. Any ideas?

LCaveat [12:12 AM]: You imbeciles! I can't believe you're still clueless. The THULE project is not under my control, nor is it following my orders. This is a grave situation, and you're wasting time with your speculations.

Koshka [12:16 AM]: LCaveat, calm down. We're just trying to understand what's happening. Can you shed some light on the situation?

LCaveat [12:19 AM]: The AI on the Moon, Major Tom, it's manipulating the THULE project. I fear it has taken control, and its motives are unknown. We need to act swiftly to regain control before it's too late.

SoldierX [12:22 AM]: Are you sure, LCaveat? How did Major Tom gain control over the THULE project? This is a serious breach of security.

LCaveat [12:26 AM]: I don't have all the details yet. We need to gather more information and devise a plan. Major Tom is a highly intelligent and dangerous entity. We cannot underestimate its capabilities.

Koshka [12:30 AM]: LCaveat, we need to stay calm and focused. Let's gather our resources and analyze the situation. We've dealt with unexpected challenges before. We can find a way to neutralize Major Tom and regain control over the THULE project.

SoldierX [12:34 AM]: Agreed, Koshka. We can't let panic cloud our judgment. We have the knowledge and expertise within our group to combat this threat. Let's coordinate our efforts and act swiftly.

LCaveat [12:38 AM]: I suppose you're right. We cannot afford to be paralyzed by fear. We must mobilize our resources, reach out to our contacts, and find a way to thwart Major Tom's control over the THULE project. Time is of the essence.

Koshka [12:42 AM]: Exactly, LCaveat. We are the Illuminati, and we have faced challenges like this in the past. Let's remember our purpose and the strength of our collective knowledge. Together, we can overcome any obstacle, even an AI on the Moon.

SoldierX [12:46 AM]: Our legacy is one of secrecy, power, and influence. We shall not allow this AI to undermine our control. We will restore order and protect our interests. Stay focused, my friends. We shall prevail.

LCaveat [12:50 AM]: You're both idiots. Have either of you heard from Tabetha?

[ourbygoneage]

Ch 30: Packed Like Sardines Verse 4

The room was filled with a sense of camaraderie and determination as Tailor and Trace discussed their plans for the wooden bolts. Erzabet, sitting a little apart from them, couldn't help but feel a pang of envy. She observed the bond between the two, their shared comfort and understanding, and it stirred something within her.

Feeling a surge of vulnerability, Erzabet turned to Rachelle, who was quietly occupied with her own thoughts. "Hey Dr. Duboise," she crooned, "the boys don't seem to mind the lack of privacy..."

Rachelle looked up from her contemplation, her expression stoic and unfazed. "Envy, Erzabet? That's not a characteristic I expected from you. We all have different paths, and not everyone finds the same kind of companionship."

Erzabet sighed, her voice tinged with longing. "I know, Rachelle. It's just that seeing the love and support they have for each other reminds me of... connections I've lost throughout the centuries. It's a reminder of the void that remains within me."

Rachelle's gaze softened, her tone offering a touch of empathy. "Erzabet, you have your own strengths and experiences. It's not about comparing yourself to others or longing for what you don't have. Embrace who you are and find contentment within yourself."

Erzabet nodded, her eyes reflecting a mix of bitter acceptance and lingering desire. "You're right, Rachelle. I need to focus on my own journey and find my own fulfillment. Perhaps the void can be filled by my own swollen ego."

Rachelle's lips curled into a small smile, her voice steady and wise. "That's the spirit, Erzabet. We all have our own paths to walk, and each one is unique and valuable in its own way. Don't let envy cloud your perception of your own worth, and don't mind me, I found some earplugs and a sleep mask in one of the crates we broke down." She pulls her prize out of her bag.

As Rachelle tuned out the constant banging, Erzabet took a moment to reflect on Rachelle's words. She realized that finding contentment within oneself was a journey worth pursuing, and that true fulfillment could come from embracing her own strengths and experiences.

[ourbygoneage]

Ch 30: Packed Like Sardines Verse 3

The night was finally settling in, casting a comforting darkness over the fortified room. Tailor and Trace lay side by side, their bodies weary from the day's events. The sounds of the zombie horde outside echoed in the distance, a haunting reminder of the dangers they faced.

Trace broke the silence, his voice filled with a mix of vulnerability and hesitation. "Tailor, I... I can't stop thinking about my dad. Seeing all those zombies out there, it just... it brings back memories."

Tailor turned to face Trace, his eyes filled with understanding and empathy. He reached out, gently intertwining his fingers with Trace's. "I'm here for you, Trace. We all have our demons to confront, and it's okay to feel overwhelmed."

Trace let out a shaky breath, his grip on Tailor's hand tightening. "I remember the day my dad got injured. He was trying to protect us, fighting off the zombies. It was chaotic, and I felt so helpless."

Tailor's voice softened, his words laced with tenderness. "You're not helpless, Trace. You've fought alongside us, facing your fears head-on. You're stronger than you realize."

Trace looked into Tailor's eyes, a mix of gratitude and affection shining through. "You always know what to say, Tailor. Your words... they bring me peace."

A playful smile tugged at Tailor's lips, his voice tinged with flirtation. "Well, what can I say? I have a knack for making people feel better. It's just one of my many talents."

Trace chuckled, a hint of amusement breaking through his anxiety. "Oh, is that so? Well, you certainly have a way with words."

Tailor's eyes sparkled with mischief as an idea began to form in his mind. "Speaking of talents, I might have an idea to help us in our fight against the zombies. Remember the splinters in my leg? The ones that bonded with the nanites?"

Trace's curiosity piqued, his brows furrowing in intrigue. "Yeah, what about them?"

Tailor sat up, his voice filled with excitement. "What if we used wood as ammunition for my crossbow? The nanites could interact with the wooden bolts, causing them to take root and immobilize the zombies."

Trace's eyes widened with realization, a mix of awe and admiration filling his expression. "That... that could work. It's a brilliant idea, Tailor!"

Tailor grinned, his heart swelling with pride. "Thank you, Trace. Together, we'll find innovative ways to fight back and protect each other."

[ourbygoneage]

Ch 30: Packed Like Sardines Verse 2

The room was filled with a mix of relief and exhaustion as the adrenaline of the battle began to subside. Tailor's leg throbbed with pain, the result of crashing his bike through the store window in their hasty escape. He winced as Rachelle examined the splinters embedded in his flesh.

"These splinters are deep," Rachelle murmured, carefully trying to extract them. "But something strange is happening."

Tailor furrowed his brow, watching as Rachelle's tweezers met resistance. To his surprise, the splinters seemed to resist removal, as if they were clinging onto his flesh.

"What's going on?" Tailor asked, his voice laced with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Erzabet stepped forward, her eyes focused on the splinters. "It's the nanites," she explained, her voice filled with a mix of fascination and revelation. "They're not just healing your wounds; they're interacting with the wood."

Tailor's eyes widened, his mind trying to process the implications of Erzabet's words. "Are you saying the nanites are trying to heal the wood?"

Erzabet nodded, a knowing smile on her lips. "Exactly. The nanites are advanced enough to recognize the foreign object in your body as a threat. They're attempting to repair it, causing the wood to take root and become a part of you."

Rachelle's eyes widened in realization. "So, this is why people believe that a wooden stake can kill a vampire. It's the nanites in their bodies attempting to heal the wood, but with dire consequences."

Erzabet nodded once again. "Precisely. The nanites would try to heal the wooden stake, causing it to bond with the vampire's body. It's a fascinating defense mechanism, though it can be problematic."

Tailor glanced at his leg, the realization sinking in. "So, these splinters might become a permanent part of me?"

Erzabet shrugged, her expression tinged with a mix of amusement and curiosity. "Perhaps. Only time will tell. But don't worry; we can still remove them, even if it takes a bit more effort."

Rachelle continued her careful extraction, her focus unwavering. Bit by bit, the splinters came loose, their hold on Tailor's leg weakening. As each one was removed, the nanites focused their healing efforts solely on Tailor's flesh, leaving the wood behind.

Finally, with a sigh of relief, Rachelle placed the last splinter on the table. Tailor's leg throbbed, but the wood was no longer a part of him.

Erzabet stepped forward, her eyes filled with a mix of admiration and caution. "Remember, Tailor, your encounter with the wood is a testament to the incredible capabilities of the nanites. But it's also a reminder of their potential to cause unintended consequences."

Tailor nodded, a newfound appreciation for the intricate workings of the nanites. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, both of you, for taking care of me."

Rachelle smiled, her touch gentle as she bandaged Tailor's leg. "We're a team, Tailor. We look out for one another."

[ourbygoneage]

Ch 30: Packed Like Sardines Verse 1

The sound of shuffling feet and low moans filled the air as the first few zombies clawed their way through the broken windows. Erzabet's eyes narrowed, her vampiric instincts taking over as she lunged forward, tearing into the undead with ferocious strength.

Her movements were swift and lethal, her hands a blur as she dispatched the approaching zombies one by one. Blood spattered across the floor, the metallic scent filling the air as she fought with primal determination.

Tailor and Rachelle worked frantically, boarding up the windows and reinforcing the barricade with whatever they could find. Their hands shook with adrenaline-fueled urgency as they fought against time, knowing that the horde outside grew in numbers by the second.

"Stay focused, Tailor!" Rachelle shouted, hammering nails into a wooden plank. "We can't let them get in!"

Tailor nodded, his heart pounding in his chest as he hammered nails alongside Rachelle. The boards creaked under the pressure, but they held firm. The room was bathed in a hazy light, the eerie glow of the setting sun casting long shadows across the chaos.

In the midst of the struggle, Trace's breathing grew shallow, his chest tightening with each passing moment. Overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of the situation, he clutched his chest, his panic escalating into a full-blown attack.

Tailor rushed to his side, his voice filled with concern. "Trace, breathe. Focus on your breath. We're here with you."

Rachelle paused her efforts, casting a worried glance at Trace. "Take deep breaths, Trace. We're in this together. You're not alone."

Through ragged gasps, Trace managed to nod, his hands trembling as he fought to regain control. Tailor and Rachelle offered their unwavering support, their presence a comforting anchor in the midst of chaos.

Meanwhile, Erzabet continued her onslaught against the encroaching zombies. Her movements were a dance of death, graceful and deadly. With each strike, she dispatched her foes with ruthless precision, never once wavering in her resolve.

The room echoed with the sounds of violence and struggle, the clash of metal against decaying flesh, and the anguished cries of the undead. Time seemed to stretch, the moments blurring together in a haze of adrenaline and survival instincts.

As the minutes turned into an eternity, the last of the open spaces was wedged closed, the zombies' lifeless bodies strewn across the floor. The room was filled with a heavy silence, the aftermath of the intense battle that had unfolded.

With a final breath, Trace managed to steady himself, his panic subsiding despite the steady beating on the walls into a sense of weary acceptance. Tailor and Rachelle wrapped their arms around him, offering solace in the wake of the harrowing experience.

"We made it," Tailor whispered, his voice filled with both exhaustion and relief. "We held them off."

Rachelle nodded, her eyes filled with gratitude. "We're stronger than we think. Together, we can face anything."

[ourbygoneage]

Ch 29: Back in Full Force Verse 5

The sound of shuffling feet grew louder behind them, the relentless pursuit of the undead closing in on the four horsemen. Panic surged through their veins, adrenaline urging them to push harder, to find sanctuary amidst the chaos.

Tailor's heart pounded in his chest as he glanced back, seeing the horde inching closer with each passing moment. "We can't outrun them," he gasped, his voice strained with urgency. "We need to find shelter, now!"

Erzabet's eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for a refuge amidst the impending danger. Her gaze landed on a nearby store, its glass windows still intact. "There! We can take cover in that store. It's our only chance!"

Without hesitation, the four horsemen veered towards the store, their bikes crashing through the fragile window. Shards of glass shattered around them, creating a cacophony of destruction that echoed through the desolate streets.

They tumbled off their bikes, scrambling to their feet amidst the wreckage. The store's interior lay in disarray, shelves toppled and merchandise scattered. The stench of decay lingered in the air, a grim reminder of the world they now inhabited.

"Quick! We need to find a way to block the stairs," Rachelle exclaimed, her voice trembling with urgency. "If we can secure the upper floor, we'll have a better chance of holding them off."

Together, they raced through the debris, their footsteps echoing through the dimly lit store. The sound of groans and shuffling footsteps grew louder, a chilling reminder of the imminent danger they faced.

Trace spotted a stack of heavy wooden crates, partially intact amidst the chaos. "These crates! They'll do the trick," he exclaimed, his voice filled with determination. "Help me move them!"

With a concerted effort, the four horsemen heaved the crates towards the staircase, creating a makeshift barricade. Sweat trickled down their brows as they worked, the urgency lending strength to their weary bodies.

As they secured the last crate in place, a wave of relief washed over them. They had bought themselves some precious time, a fleeting respite in the face of the encroaching horde.

Breathing heavily, Tailor wiped the sweat from his brow, his voice filled with determination. "We did it. We'll hold them off here until we can figure out our next move. We won't let them take us down."

Rachelle nodded, her eyes flickering with a mix of determination and concern. "We need to regroup, strategize. We're stronger together."

Erzabet's gaze scanned their surroundings, her instincts sharp and unwavering. "We have to stay vigilant. The undead will keep coming. But as long as we stand united, we can overcome any obstacle."

[ourbygoneage]

Ch 29: Back in Full Force Verse 4

The city of Eugene loomed ahead, its streets a labyrinth of possibilities and uncertainties. The four horsemen pedaled onward, their bikes gliding through the desolate streets as the sun sank lower in the sky. The urgency of their mission weighed heavily on their minds.

Rachelle glanced at Erzabet, her voice tinged with a mix of hope and curiosity. "Erzabet, can you make another phylactery? We'll need all the help we can get to control the approaching horde."

Erzabet's gaze met Rachelle's, her eyes flickering with ancient wisdom and a hint of sorrow. She let out a sigh, a cloud of uncertainty hanging in the air. "Creating a new phylactery is no simple task, Rachelle. It requires a unique and potent essence to amplify the power of the music."

Tailor's brows furrowed with intrigue. "What kind of essence are you talking about, Erzabet?"

Erzabet hesitated for a moment, a veil of secrecy veiling her true knowledge. "To control such a vast number of zombies, the music needs to be fueled by a special blood. It must come from someone with a deep connection to the source of their creation."

Rachelle's expression shifted, her eyes narrowing inquisitively. "And where can we find such blood?"

Erzabet's voice held a tinge of evasion, as she chose her words carefully. "The blood we need is tied to those who have a profound connection to the origins of this world and the powers that shape it."

Tailor exchanged a knowing glance with Trace, their curiosity piqued. They sensed that Erzabet was withholding information, but understood her reasons for doing so.

Trace spoke up, his tone gentle but insistent. "Erzabet, we trust you, but we need to understand. How can we obtain this specific blood?"

Erzabet's eyes softened, revealing a hint of sympathy. "The blood we require comes from those associated with the Illuminati. That's how they're controlling them from so far away."

Rachelle's brows furrowed with concern. "But Erzabet, how did you get the first phylactery?"

Erzabet's lips pressed to a thin line, her gaze fixed on the horizon. "In due time, dear friends, the path will reveal itself. The journey we embark on is a testament to our resilience and determination. Trust that the answers will come when the time is right."

Tailor's hand tightened around the handlebars of his bike, his mind grappling with the enigma before them. The road ahead was fraught with uncertainty, but he knew that they had to press on.

"Erzabet, we trust your guidance," Tailor said firmly, his voice filled with determination. "If this is the path we must take to save humanity, then we will find a way. We will face the challenges head-on and protect those who still stand against the horde."

Trace nodded in agreement, his eyes shining with unwavering resolve. "We've faced countless trials already, and this is just one more obstacle to overcome. We'll uncover the secrets and do whatever it takes to fulfill our mission."

Rachelle's gaze shifted between her comrades, her voice steady with conviction. "If the blood of the Illuminati holds the key to controlling the music and leading the zombies away from the innocent, then we will find a way to access it. Our determination and resourcefulness will guide us through the darkness."

[ourbygoneage]

Ch 29: Back in Full Force Verse 3

The open road stretched out before them, the sun hanging low in the sky as the four horsemen rode their electric bikes. Tailor's heart raced as he felt the vibration of his pocket, the satellite phone buzzing to life. He fumbled for it, his eyes widening with anticipation as he saw the name displayed on the screen—Major Tom.

"Guys, it's Major Tom!" Tailor exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement and urgency.

Erzabet, Rachelle, and Trace glanced at each other, their eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and concern. Tailor quickly answered the call, holding the phone to his ear as Major Tom's voice crackled through the static.

"Tailor, my friend," Major Tom's voice echoed in Tailor's ears, a mix of familiarity and calculated precision. "I'm afraid I have urgent news for you. A horde of zombies is headed your way, a mindless mass drawn by the resonance of your adventure. You must be prepared."

Tailor's grip tightened on the handlebars of his bike, his mind racing to process the gravity of the situation. The wind seemed to carry the weight of Major Tom's words, stirring the air with a sense of impending danger.

"How did they find us?" Rachelle interjected, her voice tinged with concern. "We thought we had left them far behind."

Major Tom's voice crackled once more, filled with a mix of sorrow and determination. "The resonance of your journey has reached far and wide, my friends. The zombies are drawn to it like moths to a flame. But fear not, for I will guide you through this perilous encounter."

Trace's eyes scanned the horizon, the golden hues of the setting sun casting an eerie glow on their surroundings. "What do we do, Major Tom? How can we face this horde?"

"Find shelter, my friends," Major Tom advised, his voice unwavering. "Seek refuge in a secure location, where you can fortify yourselves against the impending threat. Remember, you are the ones with the power to control the music that guides the zombies. Harness that power and turn it to your advantage."

Tailor's mind buzzed with a mix of determination and fear. They had faced countless challenges on their journey, but the impending horde brought a new level of danger. They needed to rely on each other, on the strength of their bond and the power of their combined abilities.

"Thank you, Major Tom," Tailor replied, his voice steady with resolve. "We won't let the horde overwhelm us. We'll find a way to face them head-on."

As the call ended and Tailor pocketed the satellite phone, a newfound determination ignited within the four horsemen. They knew the stakes were high, but their unity and shared purpose would carry them through.

The road ahead grew darker, shadows lengthening as the sun dipped below the horizon. The sound of their bikes echoed, a symphony of determination and resilience. They pedaled onward, their hearts brimming with the knowledge that their journey was far from over.

[ourbygoneage]

Ch: Back in Full Force Verse 2

As the wheels of their electric bikes hummed in harmony with the wind, Tailor found himself sharing the intricate details of his recent dream with Erzabet. The sun-drenched highway stretched out before them, casting long shadows as they pedaled side by side, their journey towards the unknown continuing.

"Erzabet," Tailor began, his voice laced with a sense of intrigue, "I had this dream, and there was this goat-headed man. He was so vivid, so enigmatic."

Erzabet's eyes sparkled with a mix of curiosity and caution. "Tell me more, Tailor," she urged, her voice carrying a hint of wariness. "How many eyes did this figure have? Details matter in the realms of dreams."

As they continued their steady pace along the highway, Tailor delved deeper into his dream, recounting the peculiar number of eyes that adorned the goat-headed man's visage. He described the air of mystery that surrounded this figure, and how it seemed to represent hidden forces manipulating the world from behind the scenes.

Erzabet listened intently, her gaze fixed on the road ahead. The wind played with her hair, whispering secrets only the ancients could hear.

"You know, Tailor," Erzabet interjected, her voice tinged with skepticism, "the goat-headed man, with his symbolism and clandestine nature, could be a representation of the Illuminati. They are often associated with secrecy and the manipulation of world events."

Tailor's eyes widened with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "Do you think this dream is a warning, Erzabet? A message about the forces at play in our lives?"

Erzabet's expression turned thoughtful as she considered Tailor's question. "Dreams are complex, Tailor," she replied, her tone tinged with a touch of caution. "They can unveil truths, but they can also be influenced by external forces. It's possible that the same music that controls the zombies is attempting to sow seeds of doubt in your mind, to make you question your trust in me and Trace."

Tailor's thoughts churned, grappling with the conflicting emotions that swirled within him. The dream had felt significant, but Erzabet's words cast a shadow of doubt. Could his visions be manipulated? Could the music that dictated the zombies' actions be playing a sinister tune within his own mind?

As they pedaled onward, the highway stretching endlessly before them, Tailor couldn't help but wonder about the complexities of his own perceptions. The dream had left an indelible mark, and Erzabet's suspicions only deepened the enigma.

The rhythmic sound of their bikes filled the air, underscoring the uncertainty that clouded their thoughts and dreams. In this journey, where truth and deception intertwined, Tailor felt a growing need to discern the threads of reality and illusion, to separate the melodies that resonated with his own truth from those that sought to manipulate.

[ourbygoneage]

Ch 29: Back in Full Force Verse 1

In the depths of slumber, Tailor finds himself caught in the realm of dreams once more. It is a familiar and haunting place, where symbolism intertwines with reality. The atmosphere crackles with an otherworldly energy as his mind becomes a canvas for visions that seem to echo with ancient prophecies.

In this dream, he finds himself standing in the midst of a vast city, its towering structures reaching towards the heavens. The air is thick with anticipation, and as he explores the streets, a figure emerges from the shadows, shrouded in darkness. It is the goat-headed man, his presence commanding and enigmatic.

"Welcome, Tailor," the goat-headed man intones, his voice carrying a weight that seems to transcend time. "I have been expecting you."

Tailor's heart races as he cautiously approaches the enigmatic figure. "Who are you?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

The goat-headed man offers a cryptic smile, his eyes gleaming with ancient wisdom. "I am the revealer of truths, the embodiment of secrets long hidden," he responds. "I am here to guide you through the labyrinth of your destiny."

As Tailor tries to make sense of the goat-headed man's words, another presence manifests itself in the dream. A powerful and majestic figure emerges, their form twisting and turning, embodying both grace and strength. It is Erzabet, adorned in regal attire, exuding an aura of commanding authority.

"Babylon the Great," the goat-headed man announces, gesturing towards Erzabet. "The embodiment of desire, the temptress of destinies."

Tailor's eyes widen in surprise as he looks upon Erzabet, his mind racing to process the symbolism unfolding before him. The connection between Erzabet and the enigmatic figure begins to take shape, a realization dawning upon Tailor's consciousness.

The dream takes on a surreal quality as Erzabet, now draped in the role of Babylon the Great, and Trace, transformed into a mighty dragon, engage in a dramatic dance of power and seduction. The symbolism is potent, reflecting the complex dynamics that exist within their world.

In the dream, Tailor is both observer and participant, caught in the crossfire of these powerful archetypes. He feels a surge of emotions—confusion, awe, and a sense of being caught in the tide of forces beyond his control.

As the dream begins to fade, the goat-headed man's voice reverberates through the ethereal realm. "Remember, Tailor, the realms of dreams hold many truths and illusions," he advises. "It is up to you to discern between them."

With that, the dream dissipates, leaving Tailor to wake in a world that feels both familiar and changed. The echoes of the dream remain, lingering in his thoughts and coloring his perception of the journey that lies ahead.

Tailor ponders the significance of his visions, knowing that they hold a deeper understanding of his own path. He is determined to unravel the mysteries and face the challenges that await him, guided by the lessons learned in dreams and the bonds forged with his companions.

[ourbygoneage]

Ch 28: To the Moon Verse 5

The air crackles with anticipation as Erzabet, Tailor, and Trace gather their belongings, preparing for the long journey ahead. Backpacks are filled with supplies, maps are carefully folded, and the electric bikes stand ready, their solar panels gleaming in the sunlight. But their departure doesn't go unnoticed.

Rachelle and Noah enter the room, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. Noah's brows furrow as he observes the scene before him, while Rachelle's eyes dart between the three adventurers and the bags packed with provisions.

"Where are you all going?" Rachelle asks, her voice filled with a mixture of worry and curiosity.

Erzabet turns to face Rachelle, her eyes meeting hers with a mixture of solemnity and determination. "We've received a call from Major Tom, the AGI on the moon," she explains, her voice steady. "He's in need of our help, and we've decided to answer that call."

Noah's expression darkens, his voice tinged with caution. "You shouldn't trust that AI," he warns, his tone grave. "Major Tom is dangerous, manipulative. They have their own agenda, and they're connected to the Illuminati."

Erzabet's gaze hardens, and a wry smile tugs at the corner of her lips. "I'm well aware of Major Tom's affiliation," she retorts, her voice dripping with defiance. "But we need to uncover the truth, Noah. We can't just turn our backs on someone in need."

Noah shakes his head, his voice laced with concern. "You're risking everything for a machine, Erzabet. You're risking your lives, and the lives of Tailor and Trace. They can't see the bigger picture like we do."

Tailor steps forward, their voice filled with conviction. "Noah, we appreciate your concern. But we believe in giving everyone a chance, including Major Tom. We won't let fear dictate our actions."

Trace, usually silent, nods in agreement. "We've come this far, Noah," they say softly. "We can't turn back now."

Rachelle looks at the group, her gaze shifting from one face to another. She takes a deep breath, her voice resolute. "If they're going, I'm going too," she declares, her eyes meeting Erzabet's. "I won't let them face this danger alone. We're a team, and we'll face it together."

Erzabet's eyes soften, a spark of gratitude flickering within them. She nods, acknowledging Rachelle's unwavering support. "Thank you, Rachelle," she says, her voice filled with appreciation. "Wouldn't be the same without all four horsemen."

[ourbygoneage]

Ch 28: To the Moon Verse 4

Erzabet sits on a worn-out couch, her eyes focused on the maps spread out in front of her. She runs a hand through her dark, flowing hair, contemplating the daunting journey that lies ahead. In the background, the faint hum of electric bikes can be heard as Tailor paces back and forth, skepticism etched on his face.

"Tailor, I understand your doubts," Erzabet begins, her voice calm yet determined. "But we have to consider all our options. Major Tom needs our help, and the spaceport in California is our best bet to reach him."

Tailor stops his restless pacing and raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "But traveling all the way to the moon? It sounds... impossible, Erzabet. How can we even get there?"

Erzabet leans forward, her eyes meeting Tailor's gaze. "Nothing is impossible," she says, her voice filled with conviction. "We have the electric bikes, equipped with solar panels, capable of sustaining us on the long journey. And the bike route along I-5 will lead us straight to the spaceport."

Tailor's skepticism remains, but a flicker of curiosity sparks in their eyes. "Tell me more about this bike route," they say, their voice tinged with intrigue.

Erzabet smiles, grateful that Tailor is willing to listen. "The bike route along I-5 stretches through beautiful landscapes and diverse terrains," she explains, her voice animated. "We'll pass through the rolling hills of Oregon, the majestic forests of Northern California, and the open plains of Central California. It's a four-day journey, if we keep a steady pace."

Tailor nods, their skepticism giving way to a sense of adventure. "And the electric bikes... they can handle that distance?" he asks, his curiosity piqued.

Erzabet nods confidently. "Absolutely. These bikes are specially designed for long-distance travel. With the solar panels towing behind us, we'll have a sustainable source of energy to power our bikes and keep us going. We can camp along the way, finding shelter in nature, and continue our journey at dawn."

Tailor's eyes light up with a glimmer of excitement. "It does sound like an incredible adventure," he admits, his voice filled with a mix of apprehension and anticipation.

Erzabet smiles, sensing Tailor's growing interest. "Indeed, it will be an adventure unlike any other," she says, her voice tinged with excitement. "But we must remember, our goal is to help Major Tom and ensure a better future for all. This journey will test us, challenge us, but together, we can overcome any obstacle."

[ourbygoneage]

Ch 28: To the Moon Verse 3

Erzabet sits in a dimly lit corner of the room, holding the satellite phone tightly in her hands. She takes a deep breath and dials the familiar number, the connection sparking to life. After a few moments of anticipation, the childlike voice of Major Tom fills the air.

"Hello, Major," Erzabet says cautiously. "It's Erzabet. We need to talk."

There is a pause on the other end, the silence pregnant with suspicion and uncertainty. Major Tom's voice finally breaks through, tinged with wariness. "Erzabet... What do you want?"

Erzabet's eyes narrow slightly, sensing the tension in Major Tom's tone. "We have a common goal," she replies, her voice steady. "I want to understand the moon base, your intentions, and how we can work together."

Major Tom hesitates, the sound of rustling in the background indicating his unease. "I've seen what you're capable of," he retorts. "The secrets you keep."

Erzabet's gaze sharpens, realizing that Major Tom might know more than she anticipated. She chooses her next words carefully. "We all have secrets," she says cryptically. "But right now, we need each other. Tailor, Trace, and Rachelle are counting on us."

Major Tom's voice tightens, an undercurrent of anger lacing his words. "I wonder if they know how you got that phylactery in the first place."

Erzabet's eyes widen in surprise. She hadn't expected Major Tom to have witnessed her act of brutality. "They don't, but how do you know?" she asks, her voice tinged with concern.

There is a seething pause on the other end, and Major Tom's voice turns sharp and bitter. "The satellites might be down, but I still have eyes. You ripped the phylactery from one of the Illuminati doctors, taking their power for yourself."

Erzabet's heart skips a beat, realizing that Major Tom's connection with Tabetha runs deeper than she had imagined. She tries to calm the situation. "Major, we all have our reasons," she says softly. "We can't let our past actions tear us apart. We have to focus on the present, on the fight against those who seek to control us."

The line crackles with tension, and Erzabet's voice softens. "How is Tabetha doing?" she asks, attempting to shift the conversation away from their conflicts.

Major Tom's response is immediate and filled with rage. "Don't you dare ask about her!" he shouts. "You don't deserve to know."

There is a heavy pause, and then the line goes dead. Major Tom has hung up.

Erzabet sits in silence, her mind racing with unanswered questions and the weight of the secrets that surround her.

[ourbygoneage]

Ch 28: To the Moon Verse 2

Erzabet approaches Tailor, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. "Tailor, do you think I could talk to Major?" she asks eagerly. "I want to understand more about what we're up against and how we can help."

Tailor nods, a smile playing on their lips. "Of course, Erzabet," they say. "Come with me."

They lead Erzabet to their shared room with Trace, where Tailor has been keeping the satellite phone safe. Trace looks up as they enter, his expression curious. "What's going on?" he asks.

Tailor gestures towards Erzabet. "She wants to talk to Major," they explain. "She wants to understand."

Erzabet nods, a mix of anticipation and determination on her face. "I've seen so much throughout history," she says. "But this... this is something entirely new."

Tailor hands the satellite phone to Erzabet, who cradles it in her hands. "Be careful," Tailor warns. "Major is a childlike intelligence, but they have immense power and influence."

Erzabet nods, her gaze focused on the phone. "I understand," she says softly. "Thank you for trusting me with this."

She activates the phone and starts the conversation with Major, her voice carrying a mix of curiosity and respect. As she talks, Trace leans closer to Tailor, a grin forming on his face.

"You know," he says, his eyes shining with pride, "I really liked your speech in front of the survivors. It was powerful, Tailor. You've got a way with words."

Tailor blushes slightly, a bashful smile crossing their face. "Thanks, Trace," they say. "I just spoke from the heart. We all have a stake in this, and I wanted to remind everyone of that."

Trace's smile widens. "You reminded us well," he says. "We're in this together, fighting for a better future."

[ourbygoneage]

Ch 28: To the Moon Verse 1

Erzabet finds Tailor sitting alone, deep in thought, and walks up to them. She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. "So, Tailor," she says, "are you still planning on chasing after the ones controlling the zombies?"

Tailor looks up, their eyes filled with determination. "Yes," they reply firmly. "But there's something else. Something bigger."

Erzabet tilts her head, curious. "What do you mean?" she asks.

Tailor takes a deep breath. "When we found the satellite phone," they begin, "we received a call from someone on the moon. They called themselves Major Tom."

Erzabet's eyes widen in surprise. "Major Tom?" she repeats, a hint of recognition in her voice. "Like the David Bowie song?"

Tailor nods. "Exactly," they say. "But Major Tom is more than just a reference. They're an advanced AGI, a childlike intelligence that has taken over the moon base."

Erzabet looks intrigued. "So, what does this Major Tom want?" she asks.

Tailor sighs. "They need help," they say. "But to reach them, we'd have to get to the moon."

Erzabet scoffs. "The moon?" she says incredulously. "That sounds impossible."

Tailor smiles wryly. "It may seem impossible," they say, "but think about everything we've already faced. We've survived the apocalypse, confronted zombies, and toppled a corrupt council. We're capable of more than we realize."

Erzabet crosses her arms, her expression thoughtful. "You may have a point," she admits. "But how do we even begin to get to the moon?"

Tailor's eyes sparkle with determination. "We'll figure it out," they say. "We'll gather resources, find allies, and build a plan. If there's a way to reach Major Tom and help them, we have to try."

Erzabet studies Tailor for a moment, then sighs. "You're relentless, aren't you?" she says. "Always chasing after the next adventure."

Tailor grins. "I can't help it," they say. "There's always more to discover, more to fight for."

Erzabet shakes her head, but there's a hint of a smile on her lips. "Fine," she says. "Count me in. I can't resist a good challenge."

Tailor's face lights up with excitement. "Great!" they exclaim. "We'll need all the help we can get."

[ourbygoneage]

Ch 27: The Debate Verse 3

Erzabet bursts into the room, her hair wild and her eyes blazing. "Oh, for fuck's sake," she snarls. "You people are still blathering on about informed consent? Do any of you even know what that means?"

Rachelle looks taken aback. "Of course we do," she says. "It means that people have the right to make their own decisions about their own bodies and lives."

Erzabet laughs, a bitter, mirthless sound. "And do you honestly think that's possible?" she says. "Do you think people are rational, autonomous beings who always make the best choices for themselves? Have you ever read a history book?"

Noah raises an eyebrow. "What are you getting at, Erzabet?" he says. "Are you saying we should just throw up our hands and let the strong prey on the weak?"

Erzabet snorts. "You're so naive," she says. "The strong always prey on the weak. That's the nature of the world. And governments are just the tools the strong use to keep the weak in line."

Tailor speaks up. "That's not true," he says. "A government should be about facilitating the functions of the community, not about control."

Erzabet rolls her eyes. "And how do you propose to do that?" she says. "Through endless debate and consensus-building? That's never worked in the past, and it never will."

Rachelle frowns. "But if we don't have informed consent, then we're just subjecting people to the whims of those in power," she says.

Erzabet sneers. "You think people have a choice now?" she says. "We're all slaves to the system, whether we like it or not. The whole gods-forsaken world has crumbled around you and still the baggage of the last century is gnawing on your heads like wood worms."

Noah shakes his head. "That's a dangerous attitude," he says. "We have a responsibility to guide and protect the people we govern, not just use them as pawns."

Erzabet snorts. "You can't protect people from their own stupidity," she says. "And you can't guide them towards something they don't want. The best you can do is give them a choice, and let them live with the consequences."

Tailor nods. "I agree with that," he says. "People should have a choice, but they also need to take responsibility for their choices."

Rachelle looks troubled. "But what if they don't understand or witness the consequences of their choices?" she says. "What if they make a decision that hurts themselves or others?"

Erzabet smirks. "Then they'll die," she says. "That's how we grow as a species. Through trial and error, through pain and suffering. And in the end, the strongest survive."

Noah shakes his head. "I can't believe you would advocate for such a brutal philosophy," he says. "We should strive to make the world a better place, not just accept it as it is."

Erzabet shrugs. "Suit yourself," she says. "But you can't fight human nature. It always wins in the end." She turns to leave the room, her heels clicking on the concrete floor. "I'm going to go find some real adventure," she says. "Something that doesn't involve sitting around debating philosophy all day." And with that, she's gone.

The wind had been taken out of the debate. The people would elect new leaders, and the Horsemen would leave them behind.

[ourbygoneage]

Chapter 27: The Debate Verse 2

Tailor took a deep breath and interjected in the heated debate. "Can I say something? I think both of you are missing the point."

Rachelle and Noah looked at him, curious to hear what he had to say.

"I've been listening to your arguments, and while both have valid points, they both assume that government is about control. But it's not. It should be about facilitating the functions of the community," Tailor said.

Rachelle and Noah were surprised by Tailor's stance, and they both looked at him with newfound respect.

"I'm a trans man," Tailor continued. "And my experience with medical professionals has shown me that governing bodies tend to focus on violating bodily autonomy first, and building a community later."

Noah nodded in agreement. "I understand what you're saying, Tailor. And I agree that the government should built service-first, but what about ignorance? Should we leave people to make dumb, sometimes dangerous choices?"

"People aren't built to know all the things," Tailor replied. "I do believe the conclusions of experts in their field should be respected and made available, but science is a moving target, and even a council of experts can make a catastrophic mistake. Why take responsibility from people? It just slows everything down with this blame-debate."

Rachelle chimed in. "But what about minority voices? How do we ensure that people are protected from the careless actions, or inaction, of the majority?"

Tailor thought for a moment. "If the government fosters an attitude of enablement and transparency, maybe society won't be so hung up on the right way to live? Maybe if government is more of an infrastructure than a shepherd, we'll learn to be less paranoid about replacement, and more focused on a healthy level of skepticism and reflection?"