Board Thread:Off-Topic Discussion/@comment-29637681-20170514033014/@comment-29637681-20170622213548

The next day comes, and everyone is relaxing despite Johnny's disappearance. Adder and Cinder go off on a spy mission to infiltrate the Outlaw homeland.

There, they see things they never saw before.

It is absolutely horrid. Sixteen Austroraptors are forced to support a dead Corythosaurus and carry its corpse to a burial site; the Austroraptors are all shivelled and wiry. There was a small wrestling ring set up, and two captured Rebels are force to fight each other to the death. The first Rebel, a Tenontosaurus, charges at the second, a Juravenator, so it shows how poorly these guys are treated. The Juravenator is no match; he is run down. But a Utahraptor in the crowd throws a knife made of claws into the ring; the Juravenator picks it up and stabs the Tenontosaurus in the eye.

A Styracosaurus is forced to pull fallen logs to Mount Kratakota, and is being whipped(by an Ampelosaurus's severed tail) by a Ceratosaurus. Two Ornithomimus beg for food on the path, only to get kicked and spit all over. A Deltadromeus and Dacentrurus are put on trial for no apparent readon, and are executed just as quickly. A Sordes is painted red, purple, and gray(the Outlaws' main colors). The Outlaws jab an iron pole through the Sordes's head and make it their flag.

Cinder is on the verge of crying. "This world...It's become a dystopia...I cannot believe it...We cannot function without each other, but for all of the wrong reasons..."

Even ADDER, of all people, can't bear to look. "The optimist(Cinder) believes that this is a fake illusion; the pessimist(Adder) fears this is true."

It is indeed true. Throughout the constant cycle of Evolution, Beginning, Life, Death, and De-Evolution, there is always a new start. Here, there is none. Just the grim Wasteland, and the worse Mount Kratakota, where Old One Eye rules over the suffering common man with an iron fist. These aren't animals anymore. These are...monsters.

Even the trees suffer(Heads up, if you hate cosmic horror stories, look away, kid!). Yes the trees are alive, but damn, are they ALIVE! They twitch in agony, their roots of ruin reach out futiley to prevent falling over, their branches are sporadic and wasted. The trees claw at the air, the noxious, toxic air that dooms us all. The Skulls were damn well alive, as were the Lost Souls; they charge against the shuddering roots, in an attempt to break free of their torture. They scream for help, they yell out for safety, they moan for the release of death. But the trees hold them in, trapping them for all the millenium. It is almost as if an alien force convults and twists the world and atmosphere into this barren bog of a toxic warzone we know. This place we call the Rift is a constant war-zone, a continuous bloodbath. You call this overkill and meleodramatic, but in reality this is true; every word uttered is true and honest to the world. The trees know it, what with their spasming and roaring and screeching. The two worlds lived in harmony before, the world of Revelation and the world of Chaos. But the Chaos overcame the Revelation, starting this war. Black drains out white and turns it into red, purple, and gray, the colors of blood, a doomed, forsaken sky, and charred metal, respectively. It all illustrates the Outlaws; massive bands of misfits bound together in the belief that nothing in life matters; a suicide cult, if you will. They are trapped in a dystopian society, and they suffer, yet nobody cares...