The Future Karate Man (Scifi Story)(Draft)

(CREDITS):


-written by thewriter197
-employed by dragrn. Content was rejected on the basis that it was more focused on world building then on making a sad depressing scene. I was not aware of the full details when I wrote this. The client told me they wanted a new story with certain ideas and then told me something different when I sent it in. This project might get completed if I can get the client to reconsider. When I rewrite this project if that happens, I will be writing a completely different story and with a different focus.  In any event, I am adding this to my scifi story collection.
-Project belongs to me and some of the ideas belong to the client. I will change some things around in the edit.
-Story Plot:  A man walking in a future city to see his master. The guy that trained him to be a warrior.

The Future Karate Man

Table of Contents:

Chapter 1: Not the Same Today……………………………………………………..3

Chapter 1: Not the Same Today

Many days pass through a man’s eyes. Days that he barely remembers the next year. Out of those days, there is one day where he feels he has to remember. The thing that made him who he was. He could choose to forget it and treat it like the others days of his life. Wouldn’t hurt too much to not care about the moment. But, that would mean he is not an individual.

    Rainy nights, in a city that could possibly be the future of human kind. Buildings are built upward to the clouds and have roads connected that go to the highway. Sculpted mostly in squares with small sections in different cultural designs. Vertical shaped lights appeared all around the building in different colors. Each representing a section of the city. Classicism is divided between the people in the clouds vs the people under the roads. In the year 3327, World War 12 destroyed the last two countries on Earth. Political structure of old have been crumbled up into what the survivors of the new world thought what was right and old religious books that survived. Race has been decided to not be important in classifying a person’s background. As the years multiplied, society has reverted back to religious practices of old with technology combined to increase the spiritual energy within.

    Year is now 3854, a man named Yoru steps out of his house on the ground level of Yakata City. Thousands of raindrops fall from the dark above. Yoru, a dark skinned man with silver short hair, makes his way to  Loja Street. Equipping his body with a pair of light blue jeans, black boots, and zipped up black jacket. He wanted to see his master one more time, before he took on the promise he gave his parents tomorrow.

    The ground was wet beneath his feet. Rain impelled the right portion of his body and drained in his silver hair roots. Yoru didn’t pay it any mind. He loved walking in the rain and hearing the drops. Rain was coming in fast like usually do on the 6 day. There were no Sundays and Mondays on Earth now. Something, about the concept made the survivors of the new world consider not teaching it in the schools. It was decided to let 7 numbers from 1 to 7 mark the days of each week. Months and years would be marked by names. Boots splashed on the ground for more minutes. Patter Patter Pater and puddles. He wasn’t quite at Lora Street, but he came near a alleyway that almost put him there.

    Yoru lived in a small subsection of Yakata City that had oriental based architecture mixed in with orange vertical shaped lights hammered into it. A wall rose around the small subsection that had green electricity running through it. At certain time of the night, the wall will close up with a green magnetic rectangle wall. No one was allowed to enter after that period of time. They would have to find somewhere in the alley ways, sidewalks, and maybe even decimate apartment buildings to sleep. Yoru had enough time to make it back to his parent’s house.

    But, there was that one time when he got lost going down a street he never been on and walking in a unforgiving maze. Yakata city was built on top of cities and never had much space to venture outside of the rock it was built on. A cellphone device was in Yoru’s hand that night, but the cellphone was useless due to Yoru not knowing how to use the phone offline. Internet connection in Yakata city turns off in some subsections. The Head Monarch deemed it necessary to conserve power for spiritual power and peace. He also didn’t want the citizens to become too attached to the world they can not touch now.

    The man walks further down to the middle of the alleyway. Rain increasing in rate of drops. A couple watches him on a stairway 45 feet above. The stairs are constructed in a basic block by block level rectangle with no open holes. Made out of 100% hard cement 2. A blue light line door is at the top. “I wonder where he is going?” said J. “Don’t have the slightest idea, but why are we talking about this?” said Finny. The two stand with tight leather outfits that have blue lights on the shoulders. Hunched over the ledge at the top deck. “Just a thought.” said J. J looks at Finny with blue and black symmetric hair style. Blue lips smile at Finny and then she focus back at back at Yoru. Yoru makes his way to the end of the alleyway.

    Yoru takes a right and makes it to Loja Street. Legs push on the light grey road with the crowd. People were going in front and behind him. Rubbing their shoulders against his in some instances because the space between the open paths was changing. He sees the usual pack of individuals who choose to walk at night. Cyborgs, humans with enough money to change a piece of their bone structure to have a unnaturally ability. Some consider them to be human and others have the belief to call them traitors to the human race.

    Then, there is the mutants that people have not quite accepted into the community despite the fact that they were human once. Over the years, scientific break throughs have been done to make the mutants less deformed. But, there wasn’t enough enhancements and metal to stop you from telling if someone is a mutant. The mutants came from the people not having a vault to hide in during the bombs. They had to find a cellar door in a house or a tunnel in the sewer system to not get killed by the blasts. The humans thought they were safe for the first few years. They managed to band together in the deep reaches of the tunnels with supplies. Not realizing, aftermath gas slowly leaked in from the outside.

    Next, monarchs that are not insects but humans with descended god powers. Powers that can make them fly or crash walls with one finger.The monarchs called them the “Blessings of the Gods Before.” There is a group of conspircists who believe the humans were bio-engineered. But, no evidence has been found to support this assumption. Monarchs rule Yakata City and other cities around the last known continent that host life. Yuro is actually one of those monarch descendants. The monarchs are very religious in the sense that they train their bodies and worship Gods that have died many years ago. The books left over from the war provoked them to hold on to the religion of old. The books also provoked them to bring civilization back together. The monarchs lead the world now.

    The rest of the civilization are made of people who want things to change and to live a life connected to their own moral beliefs. Cyborg gangsters devoted to symbols and worshiping some computer lord that they think should rule the world. Use to be human gangs that performed crime, until they realize they had better profit and success from using cyborg modifications. They also felt stealing from the rich was necessary. Workers who chose to work to have meaning to their life and prove to themselves that they are doing something right. The Leather suit bandits with the punked hair formed small groups for reasons no one outside the group knows. Last, we have the pink philosophers who try to make sense of the things the Monarchs can not explain with their ancient knowledge. Most of them had their hair dyed pink to let people know their allegiance. Some of them do not believe in the Monarch’s teaching. Thinking the teaching do not make humans better. The pink philosophers are mostly a friendly lot that want peace for everyone and like the monarchs.

    Yoru took some more steps and he was closer to making it to his master’s place. Yoru turned left and went down a orange walking tunnel. There were these overground tunnels you could take to get around the bottom parts of the city faster. After the tunnel, he continued straight in a giant open square inside the city. Rain slicked all around the floor. Yoru walked past a strange man. The rain was falling on the man’s brown hooded coat. The man looked at yoru and changed the color of his eyes. “Hey kid, do you know how to get to the Space Station 36?” said strange man. Yoru stopped and turned. “I…I don’t. Never actually been in the air. I was always on the ground.” said Yoru. “Gotta ask someone else then.” said strange man. The man changed the color of his eyes again and turned away. Walking to the east to find someone else to ask. There was a lady near a wall wearing a clear color rain jacket with changing neon clothes. She sat on a bench next to a bus stop post. The man noticed her and walked toward.

    Yoru watched for a minute. Letting the rain touch his silver hair and fall down to inner parts of his jacket collar. He turns back to the direction he was going. There was only 2 more streets he needed to cross to get the road that lead him to the Master’s dojo. He past one street and than the other. Now, walking on Dirth Street to get to the secret vault door at the end. A small circular hole that went down to another level. The street had tall building on each side that almost took up the walking space for two people. No one else knew about the door but Yoru and his master. His master told him to keep it a secret to protect him from the enemies he met in the past.

    At the entrance, he kneels down to the vault cover and holds onto a horizontal metal bar in center. Turns the bar to the right and pulls down. Lock unhindges and he pulls the cover off. Inside, he see a red ladder that goes 60 feet down. Next to the ladder, was green cerement that hasn’t been used since the 8^th World War. He rubs his hands on his zipped up jacket to make them less slippery. Then, positions himself on the ladder to go down. Down he goes with left hand and right foot leading the right hand and left foot. Sounds thump with each step down. Hissing with the constant quiet that surrounded the tunnel he was going down. He did this before, but he wanted to always take his time with the process. Master told him about a guy that went too fast down the ladder and died. Could of just been a false legend that the master always tells late in the night. But, Yoru had no reason to question the master and followed everything he would say.

    Rats squeaked in Yoru’s ear. He was unsure about where. Felt they could have been crawling in any tiny hole that connected the airways around the tunnel. 24 minutes later, Yoru drops to the bottom of the red ladder. Yoru turns his head a little and thinks. The sounds of his master watching TV or moving about was not apparent.

    Yoru gandered around, saw nothing but the dojo facing the ladder and green walls. Then, there was the darkness that never moved. He watched for shadows or signs of his master moving, but nothing was sighted in his eyes. Yoru went to the dojo. Green cemented walls that went up to the ceiling. Brown branches hugged the walls and the walls were structured like a castle. Modifications were performed by the master himself to make the castle more livable. X4 windows have been installed and the old pantry room has been turned into another meditation room. The dojo has 6 rooms with 3 being on the 2^nd floor.  In addition, a machine was installed to remove the sewer smell that lingered in from the air holes. Yoru insisted the master repainted the walls, but the master wanted the walls to remain the same colors with the brown branches hugging them. He said it was something connected to the aesthetic that was spiritual. Something that was not meant to be removed.