It was hypothesized for a long time that the world would eventually end in some unpleasant manner, describing which requiring words flashier and oftentimes longer than 'catastrophic' or perhaps 'big.' One can be assured that this was not the case, the world failing to come close to exploding, collapsing, or being overrun with demonic spiders.

~~~

In an unfamiliar setting on unfamiliar land, a young man regained consciousness. Picking up his satchel, which lay by him, he cursed silently to himself and wondered aloud, "Where am I?"

His name is Tobias Cross, and he is only 19 years old.

The immediate surrounding, he noted, lacks any modern style of architecture. Since the 'Neo-Reniassance' movement that occurred in the late '70s, buildings have become much less square, and stopped being painted beige or brown on the exterior.

The unfamiliarity distressed Tobias.

Szedachian schools are reluctant to teach anything about the country that was referred to as the 'United States,' so he didn't come to realize the striking resemblance of the town to those preceding the 18th century.

He looked around before spotting a vehicle.

"Is this… a car? These existed?"

He ran his finger over it and thought up reasons to explain the absence of dust.

The thought of a self-maintenance system had passed when suddenly a large noise broke out through the air. He remembered the sound; once his Music and History classes in school had taught a joint class about brass instruments- it was a tubular bell. The archaeism here to be had was astounding, he thought.

They rang out the first few notes of a song that Tobias immediately remembered- it was the Song of Szedach. The country's national anthem was a mixed version of some of the songs of countries that had existed long before. He didn't know of any of them, though.

After the excerpt had passed, two deep bell tones echoed throughout the streets.

Before he had time to decipher this, a voice sounded through the air, replacing the bells.

"Hello, everyone!"

The voice was certainly that of a man, and perhaps in his Third Cycle. It was also unfamiliar to Tobias, given his lack of interaction with people of that age.

"Welcome to the glorious city of New Estherson. I am your mayor, Alban Ginestri."

Then the man must be at least 40 years of age, thought Tobias. Political positions are only available to Third Cyclists.

"As you can see, our town is one that is most unusual. Many of our buildings are restored, from originals that were created around the year 1860, and much of the technology were taken from the early 21st century."

Tobias again looked at the car. There was a blue emblem on the front of it, bearing scribbly writing he couldn't understand.

"There are approximately 245 of you in this city, and me. The town has had walls erected specifically for your containment- there will be no escape. You have been chosen for an experiment; you must remember this one maxim: There are no rules, pertaining to anything, everything, and anyone here."

Tobias's head spun. No rules? No escape?

"You will be free to do as you wish. I have not police nor an administrative cabinet with me. What ultimately happens in this town rests on your shoulders. This is Mayor Ginestri, imploring you to enjoy your stay."

The voice crackled out of existence and ushered in a wave of dread. A chill ran through Tobias as he attempted to fathom what the mayor could have possibly meant by 'no rules.'

From your first to your last day in Szedachia, there is a strict set of rules and guidelines to life. Every 20 years, one's role in the community changes. First Cyclists attend school after year 5, until the end of the cycle. Second and Third Cyclists hold careers, and Fourth Cyclists either retire or pursue non-laborious work. Since the founding of Szedachia, there hasn't been one recorded person to live into their fifth cycle.

No rules…

Tobias suddenly broke into a sweat. He undid his black dress jacket and hung it over his shoulders, leaving his satchel on underneath. The white shirt he wore underneath had long sleeves, for which he chastized himself- he had never known weather so hot.

His last account of the date was the 19th of August, and his last memory was him returning from school and falling asleep on his bed.

He strained himself, but failed to recall any other details around that time.

A piercing scream flew through the air. It was close by! Tobias searched around frantically trying to pinpoint the source. His first instinct was to run to whoever had made it- a girl, he was thinking- to investigate.

No rules…

Tobias stopped, and wondered if it was truly advisable to be walking around in an unknown area looking for an unknown person with an unknown fate in a lawless society. He turned in the opposite direction and decided to run.

The further he traveled, the more he began to notice a most peculiar noise that he was previously too occupied to hear. It sounded like an object grating against a high-velocity fan.

Running, still, he glanced backward and witnessed a strange shape rapidly approaching him, traveling at least three times the speed he was, and emanating that increasingly annoying sound.

It was a car.

It's driver was a red-haired boy of some vague European descent, possessing a craven look and clutching the wheel with shaking hands. These aren't, of course, details that Tobias could have picked up, rolling out of the path of the incoming behemoth.

He looked ahead and saw that the truck- he didn't know it was referred to as such- had begun to skid, desperately trying to change course, but it was unsuccessful. It instead turned over onto its side, and slid into a lamppost.

The driver's side door lay facing the sky, and the passenger's side was rent by the pavement.

Tobias's reaction was not one of rage, or fear, as one would expect, but worry. He quickly tip-toed over to the mangled vehicle, taking care not to trod on broken glass. "Hello?" he cried out.

The door was forcefully pushed open, it making a loud, sharp creak. Upon reaching the end of it's arc it unhinged and collapsed onto the street, releasing shards of glass. He saw a pair of hands emerge from the opening, and someone pulled themselves out of it.

The lad had shaky breathing and seemed challenged to stay still. He climbed out of the wreckage and flopped onto the cobblestone pavement. Upon further inspection, Tobias could see that the side of his shirt had been stained with blood. But from what?

"Ah. There you are."

Struggling, the boy stood up, and with quite some effort, reached into the pocket of his shorts and withdrew a pocket knife. He wasn't the one to speak, and even now appeared to be looking for the one that did. A larger, more brutish person had emerged from the alleyway and began sprinting towards the boy.

Tobias only caught his presence for about a second- the boy, not at all- before the large one had appeared on scene and struck him down. The force of the blow was sufficient to knock him backwards onto the street. The pocket knife clattered onto the ground.

Studying the new arrival, Tobias began to step backwards. He had blonde hair and wore a flannel shirt over a gradient t-shirt. He had some amount of stubble, and wore a pair of athletic shorts. He was dangerous.

Tobias turned and ran into the nearest alleyway, attempting to distance himself from the two maniacs. He didn't see the blonde one pick up the knife and plunge it into the other, nor did he see the victim convulse on the ground briefly.

He also especially didn't see the murderer turn his head, and notice Tobias flee through the backstreets.

He ran as fast as his legs could possibly have taken him, darting through the alleys and around every fence, vent, and trash bin he happened across. So this is what the mayor meant by no rules? We were to be savages and off each other?

No, this cannot be true. This must be a dream, an illusion. He wondered if this was another hallucination, and he was with his friends behind the school building again. What he would give for this to be the case!

But unfortunately, he really was running, this town actually does exist, he truly is getting tired, and there is definitely a persuant on his trail.

He had crossed many streets and traversed many alleys when he saw a gigantic construction looming ahead. It was the wall surrounding the city! It had to be at least 40 feet in height and was cast of solid concrete.

He had heard of concrete construction; mankind had more or less ceased using it around 2110. Buildings nowadays were typically made of a super-reinforced polymer/rubber composite. While it was much stronger than concrete, he doubted he'd be able to break through the wall at any point.

His breathing had become hoarse and his lungs were practically ablaze, but he was spent for places to stop and rest. He scanned the windows and doors of the buildings in the immediate area, and found one house with a window that had been left open. Without further thought, he ran towards it and vaulted through the window. He did not see the man who was chasing him as he did so.

He retreated to an upper level of the house and squeezed himself into an inconspicuous corner of a random room. This appeared to be quite the fancy house at the time, adorned almost entirely in wood furnishings. He wondered if wood was actually cheap in the 19th century.

The faint footsteps of his follower from outside had briefly faded into and out of perception. He was safe for the moment. Sweating, he found the bathroom ("Is this porcelain?") and turned on the water faucet. He took care not to turn it very high, afraid it would make noise. He splashed his face and stripped off his shirt, washing it in the cold water and wringing it dry. He tried not to trust the cleanliness of the water, but had no choice. He raised a handful to his face and downed it all near-instantly.

He draped his damp clothing over his head and retreated into his corner, where the abyss of sleep quickly and unexpectedly took hold of him.