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2024-10-29 19:42:56Earth.
It exists in a collective structure with other overlapping entities that resemble it; other Earths from different realities. However, the reality of each Earth is mostly the same. How could it possibly differ?
A magnificent world of grey. Not by any means lifeless or devoid of activity and colour. But a mash of good and bad to create a frustrating middle point that causes the law to be unfair and justice to be as vague and subjective as any other opinion.
In this same world, humans have tried escaping their harsh realities by creating comical characters. Benevolent beings drawn onto paper who fight for justice for the weak. Who steal from the rich and give to the poor. Those who punch criminals and hand them to meet the gavel of the law in courts.
On paper, they write their dreams and fantasies. Having extraordinary abilities, being able to read minds, to fly and to make money without having to work so damn hard.
Children grow up watching these icons fashioned by adults to guide their morality. The adults too reminisce about the times in their childhood where the imagination and hope had not been quelled by harsh reality.
ONE EARTH GOT ITS WISH.
The collective yearning for superpowers, for crime and 'bad guys' to be stopped, was answered.
It happened one day.
Humans awakened to unique powers.
The world of comic books wasn't a dream anymore. It was something that actually came to life within a fraction of the global population.
Those who wished to enact justice used their powers to stop criminals. However, those who wished for material objects and sustenance used them for their own good.
Greed? Maybe. But he has a family at home and wasn't able to graduate and get a job.
Selfish? Probably not. She has a dying mother whom she's stealing for.
Heartless? I don't know. The man he killed slaughtered his wife.
It dawned on the world. Having super strength, speed or the ability to call upon judgement through the elements didn't change the world.
The line between who is wrong and who is right remained as thin as always. Justice wasn't as it was promised in the comics. The hero is the one who is messed up and we sympathise with the superpowered armed robber.
THE WORLD....WAS STILL A MESSED UP PLACE.
However, a certain age came.
Led by one man and one man alone.
He was not a villain.
He was not a hero.
Villains dreaded him.
Heroes loathed him.
The public protested day and night for years, demanding the international community to kill that son of b*tch!
A dark age befell mankind.
It got so bad that villains and heroes decided to work together against this made man.
He broke families. Broke hearts. All his victims left alive but cursing him and his name with crazed faces.
He robbed no bank, destroyed no city, set off no bomb against the ruling parties of the world.
But with every one of his ACTS, he left a grand void.
Humanity acknowledged that there was one Black Human amidst the grey masses.
A dark and evil man by the name...
SERIAL SYNOT.
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Age of Serial Synot First Act (1)
2029.New York, USAJames rushed around in the small apartment.There was a small kitchen with a stove, a small fridge and a few cabinets near the ceiling as well as the floor, made of cheap wood that housed a few water glasses, mugs, cutlery among other things.It was tiled, facing the small lounge where only two brown sofas could be found, a TV, a few picture frames and a window.James rushed from his bedroom and into the lounge with a toothbrush stuck in his mouth. He walked briskly into the kitchen where he saw the frying pan giving the smoky signal of proudly burnt meat.He removed the pan, made some toast and placed it in a plate with a frustrated shaking of the head as he packed all in his lunch.He ran to the toilet. A spit, rinse and splash later, he was rushing to the lounge with a satchel on his back.
Age of Serial Synot First Act (2)
A short man in a white office shirt that had rolled up sleeves, a blue tie and flat front navy blue pants stood on the other side of the secure interview room.(A/N: Interrogation room).He had light brown hair in a quiff and a clean shaven face, his sharp, deep set hazel eyes intently looking at the process ongoing in the room.A middle aged man in a dark jacket was being interrogated by a young man who looked to be frustrated.The young man glared at his counterpart, shooting up from his seat in the next second and his pointing finger at the middle aged man, who, despite the pressure applied on him, only smirked at the young police officer's display.The man outside the room held the bridge of his nose and grimaced. He knew it wasn't going well. Just like the other six cases before this one.A middle aged woman in her police uniform walked up to his s
Age of Serial Synot First Act (3)
James was spooked as he saw the man. He stood in the dark of a corner, while smoking a cigarette. It seemed that the smile design on his mask had a small space in between allowing him to smoke without a problem.The mask had no other features except that detail; even eyes holes, making it very unsettling.The man wore a long, dark coat with black pants and shoes of the same colour. In his hand was a thick brown book that he looked to be reading.James finally stood and looked around the place. It looked like an enclosed warehouse with nothing in it except windows and a door at the far end. The walls looked rather crude with chipped paint.The lighting came from some hanging light bulbs on the ceiling.The man in the mask suddenly walked up until he reached a certain distance from the people on the floor who were still waking up and struggling to stand."Welcome," he said in a particularly masculine voice. "You have qualified and have met the
Age of Serial Synot First Act (4)
The tension in the room was so thick that one could almost touch. Everyone was trying to wrap their heads around the situation and figure out what to do.Some had already resigned to their fate warily gazing at others, trying to determine which of the other participants could be the biggest threat.The diverse reactions among the people represented the different attitudes and convictions that they had cultivated throughout their lives; the die hard, the quick to give in, those who lost it entirely.Among the sixteen people in the warehouse, most could be said to already have given up on getting out of this alive, after all, fiction may be made up, but it is based on real life events most of the time.James slumped down and took a deep breath. The thought of his grandmother suffering even for a minute hurt him.She could barely walk as it is, her one feature that spelled out loud that she was alive, being her eternally yammering mouth.
Age of Serial Synot First Act (5)
The sheer scale of the whole setup was staggering. What had been a warehouse just moments ago, had turned into one huge grid box among the many that surrounded it.James looked around in shock.When he saw the alternating grid boxes of dark and light, he shivered.The name of the game had also made him swallow hard.Chess.Was this going to be some complicated game where they had to move their own pieces and take down the other team's pieces until they won or....He didn't want to think about it.Katie, turned and looked at the next grid box which was dark. She couldn't see anything beyond it. From up to down, it was all extremely dark till the start of the next grid box.Everyone was looking around nervously.It was simply one giant chess board!Their apprehension towards the man in the mask soared. Fear turned into terror and terror into hopelessness.If this man could create such a humongous
Age of Serial Synot First Act (6)
Erica Monstroll, daughter of Carl and Olivia Monstroll was a 19 year old girl with a spoiled personality.She was born in New York, being given all she wanted when growing up. Her father who worked for a multi-million dollar company was too busy to spend time with her hence he compensated for it by giving her large amounts of money every week to splurge to her hearts content.Her mother was even worse, having married Carl for his money and having Erica before she was ready to have children. She owned her own firm which she had started thanks to the funding she received from her husband and used it as a way ti escape her parental duties.She too spent more time away from home, leaving a couple of maids whom she had hired to take care of her daughter's needs.As such, Erica grew up with a rotten personality that only kids such as herself could put up with. She was stuck up and would never allow herself to hang out with people she didn't consider to be
Age of Serial Synot First Act (7)
James stood within the dark grid box. He held onto his dagger with a steady grip.He felt that time was moving. It was information that flowed within him constantly. In the darkness, he was still deliberating. However, there was no way turning back.Literally.As a pawn, he couldn't turn back.He mustered his courage. For his grandmother, for his future. He couldn't remain idle.He ran within the darkness, the feeling of the eerie pitch void making it seem like he was going nowhere. However, he raced forward, dagger in hand knowing that there was an end to the darkness.After running for a while, the scene before him changed abruptly.He was blasted by the return of information into his surroundings.He clutched his ears as he heard the chaos."WHERE AM I?! HELP! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP!"&
Age of Serial Synot First Act (8)
(A/N: Beware of the stuff we talked about). It was only after the blade of the dagger tasted the flesh of a human that James felt the unnerving sensation and withdrew quickly. He was in a dark grid box. Again, his senses were suppressed, vision and hearing entirely useless altogether. He had gone for the kill, anticipating that it was just the same as killing a chicken. However, the reality was different. It was enough to tear him out of his reverie. James took deep breaths. That sensation. He could never forget it. The vibration of the blade as it carved through the skin and flesh. The rough yet thick feeling of the blade that travelled through his hand, spelling out that it was not the weapon but him who was using it that was accountable. It made him stop. <
Latest Chapter
- Age of Serial Synot
First Act (9)
Four minutes back... Katie looked around in the light grid box and shook her head. The axe in her hands still felt as heavy as hell. She was beginning to think that she had spent enough time swimming in fear. However, her nature went against what the game demanded her to do and she was not sure how to tackle this. She gnashed her teeth and forced herself to take a step forward. However, the looming darkness that awaited her from the giant grid box ahead demotivated her from moving further. She wasn't sure if she should go straight ahead as she didn't know what to expect. After hesitating momentarily she finally continued walking ahead. The more time she wasted, the more her choices and options became unclear. As she walked along, the screams were a major deterrent to her movements. Hearing people screaming and the sounds of clashing weapons made her feel a deep sense of dread. The gurgling and crunching of human flesh and blood was even more u
- Age of Serial Synot
First Act (8)
(A/N: Beware of the stuff we talked about). It was only after the blade of the dagger tasted the flesh of a human that James felt the unnerving sensation and withdrew quickly. He was in a dark grid box. Again, his senses were suppressed, vision and hearing entirely useless altogether. He had gone for the kill, anticipating that it was just the same as killing a chicken. However, the reality was different. It was enough to tear him out of his reverie. James took deep breaths. That sensation. He could never forget it. The vibration of the blade as it carved through the skin and flesh. The rough yet thick feeling of the blade that travelled through his hand, spelling out that it was not the weapon but him who was using it that was accountable. It made him stop. <
- Age of Serial Synot
First Act (7)
James stood within the dark grid box. He held onto his dagger with a steady grip.He felt that time was moving. It was information that flowed within him constantly. In the darkness, he was still deliberating. However, there was no way turning back.Literally.As a pawn, he couldn't turn back.He mustered his courage. For his grandmother, for his future. He couldn't remain idle.He ran within the darkness, the feeling of the eerie pitch void making it seem like he was going nowhere. However, he raced forward, dagger in hand knowing that there was an end to the darkness.After running for a while, the scene before him changed abruptly.He was blasted by the return of information into his surroundings.He clutched his ears as he heard the chaos."WHERE AM I?! HELP! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP!"&
- Age of Serial Synot
First Act (6)
Erica Monstroll, daughter of Carl and Olivia Monstroll was a 19 year old girl with a spoiled personality.She was born in New York, being given all she wanted when growing up. Her father who worked for a multi-million dollar company was too busy to spend time with her hence he compensated for it by giving her large amounts of money every week to splurge to her hearts content.Her mother was even worse, having married Carl for his money and having Erica before she was ready to have children. She owned her own firm which she had started thanks to the funding she received from her husband and used it as a way ti escape her parental duties.She too spent more time away from home, leaving a couple of maids whom she had hired to take care of her daughter's needs.As such, Erica grew up with a rotten personality that only kids such as herself could put up with. She was stuck up and would never allow herself to hang out with people she didn't consider to be
- Age of Serial Synot
First Act (5)
The sheer scale of the whole setup was staggering. What had been a warehouse just moments ago, had turned into one huge grid box among the many that surrounded it.James looked around in shock.When he saw the alternating grid boxes of dark and light, he shivered.The name of the game had also made him swallow hard.Chess.Was this going to be some complicated game where they had to move their own pieces and take down the other team's pieces until they won or....He didn't want to think about it.Katie, turned and looked at the next grid box which was dark. She couldn't see anything beyond it. From up to down, it was all extremely dark till the start of the next grid box.Everyone was looking around nervously.It was simply one giant chess board!Their apprehension towards the man in the mask soared. Fear turned into terror and terror into hopelessness.If this man could create such a humongous
- Age of Serial Synot
First Act (4)
The tension in the room was so thick that one could almost touch. Everyone was trying to wrap their heads around the situation and figure out what to do.Some had already resigned to their fate warily gazing at others, trying to determine which of the other participants could be the biggest threat.The diverse reactions among the people represented the different attitudes and convictions that they had cultivated throughout their lives; the die hard, the quick to give in, those who lost it entirely.Among the sixteen people in the warehouse, most could be said to already have given up on getting out of this alive, after all, fiction may be made up, but it is based on real life events most of the time.James slumped down and took a deep breath. The thought of his grandmother suffering even for a minute hurt him.She could barely walk as it is, her one feature that spelled out loud that she was alive, being her eternally yammering mouth.
- Age of Serial Synot
First Act (3)
James was spooked as he saw the man. He stood in the dark of a corner, while smoking a cigarette. It seemed that the smile design on his mask had a small space in between allowing him to smoke without a problem.The mask had no other features except that detail; even eyes holes, making it very unsettling.The man wore a long, dark coat with black pants and shoes of the same colour. In his hand was a thick brown book that he looked to be reading.James finally stood and looked around the place. It looked like an enclosed warehouse with nothing in it except windows and a door at the far end. The walls looked rather crude with chipped paint.The lighting came from some hanging light bulbs on the ceiling.The man in the mask suddenly walked up until he reached a certain distance from the people on the floor who were still waking up and struggling to stand."Welcome," he said in a particularly masculine voice. "You have qualified and have met the
- Age of Serial Synot
First Act (2)
A short man in a white office shirt that had rolled up sleeves, a blue tie and flat front navy blue pants stood on the other side of the secure interview room.(A/N: Interrogation room).He had light brown hair in a quiff and a clean shaven face, his sharp, deep set hazel eyes intently looking at the process ongoing in the room.A middle aged man in a dark jacket was being interrogated by a young man who looked to be frustrated.The young man glared at his counterpart, shooting up from his seat in the next second and his pointing finger at the middle aged man, who, despite the pressure applied on him, only smirked at the young police officer's display.The man outside the room held the bridge of his nose and grimaced. He knew it wasn't going well. Just like the other six cases before this one.A middle aged woman in her police uniform walked up to his s
- Age of Serial Synot
First Act (1)
2029.New York, USAJames rushed around in the small apartment.There was a small kitchen with a stove, a small fridge and a few cabinets near the ceiling as well as the floor, made of cheap wood that housed a few water glasses, mugs, cutlery among other things.It was tiled, facing the small lounge where only two brown sofas could be found, a TV, a few picture frames and a window.James rushed from his bedroom and into the lounge with a toothbrush stuck in his mouth. He walked briskly into the kitchen where he saw the frying pan giving the smoky signal of proudly burnt meat.He removed the pan, made some toast and placed it in a plate with a frustrated shaking of the head as he packed all in his lunch.He ran to the toilet. A spit, rinse and splash later, he was rushing to the lounge with a satchel on his back.