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(continued)

Origin (formerly Long Beach Peninsula)

May 8th, 2073

It went without saying that he probably shouldn’t be here. But of the places he’d been in his life no place had ever pulled him closer than this one. He’d lived across the bay for longer than many, but never had he dared to come to this shore. It wasn’t just the monsters that lived in the bay, it wasn’t even the legend of the caretaker that was said to expel or kill anyone that dared to cross the distance. It was that he knew what it meant to respect something, and someone. Whoever this caretaker was, Seth had always felt that he didn’t expel people just because he felt like it. There had to be reason why the individual felt the need to keep this place private.

He’d studied as much history as could be found about the place called Origin. He’d learned about the native tribes that had once called it home, and how they’d been run off by white settlers, then promised land but still never been given what had once been rightfully theirs. He’d read about how it had changed throughout the years, how it had become a permanent residence for so many, a logging town, a vacation destination, and eventually a place where people had congregated in great numbers to enjoy themselves. The histories had ended shortly after the year 2000, as the tragedy that had befallen the world had come.

He’d only been alive for the past century, but he’d known enough about the land called Origin to know that it was sacred ground to some and a curiosity to others. Simply setting foot on it was not something one just did with impunity, especially not given the current history of the place.

It was where the Chosen had been born.

(to be continued)

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