This is Our Town (Faction)

Today is a new day. New day, new me.

“Here is your badge.”

And the new me is sly as hell.

“This is the first time I’ve ever joined a faction. So exciting.”

“Haha, well, we’re happy to have you. Welcome to the This is Our Town Faction,” Trey says with a smile as Spencer and Harold nod in agreement, the latter doing so reluctantly.

Let me back up a few steps for you—

“You’re not from around here are you?”

“We don’t like outsiders here.”

“You’re in This is Our Town Faction territory,”

“So what the hell are you doing in our town?”

I suddenly get an idea and regain my composure completely. “I guess I should cut the crap,” I respond with an unusual amount of confidence. “I wanna join your faction.”

“The hell?”

“Well this is certainly unusual.”

“Please,” I press on, “I didn’t mean to surprise you. When I got here I got so many dirty looks that I’ve just been hiding in this house since. I wasn’t sure what to do after that. I kept waiting for a good opportunity, but one never came…” I stare at them intensely, “until now.”

“Uhhh, could you give us a minute?”

“Certainly.”

They turn around, get into a huddle, and start whispering very fast. I can barely make out anything they say.

—do we do—

They’re not gonna like—

—our own thing—

—do it.

Do what?!

They turn around and the tallest one says, “Okay.”

“Huh?” A bit surprised, I end up forgetting what he’s okaying.

“He’s saying we’ll let you join."

“Oh, uh, hell yeah,” I respond a bit more confidently.

I sigh in relief, thinking back on how that whole situation unfolded. It’s amazing that I was actually able to talk my way out of such a sticky situation.

“What? You don’t like the badge or something?” Spencer pulls me back. He’s the tallest of the three and a little gruff, but I think he’s a softie under all that.

“Huh? Oh, no, great badge,” I say, flashing a smile and giving a thumbs up. “I was thinking 'bout how relieved I am that you guys accepted me.” What I’m not relieved about is leaving the goddamn Supernovacide unattended. It’s not like I’m exactly expecting someone to go ransacking the house, but, like—what if?

“Make sure you remember to do your absolute best. We may accept you, but most people here don’t like outsiders.” That’s Trey. Out of the three, he seems to have his head on the straightest and is the most openly accepting of me.

“You better learn to adapt fast,” Harold adds. He’s the least accepting of me. I mean, he doesn’t outright oppose my being here, but he’s pretty aggressive with his words. I don’t think he knows how to feel 'bout accepting someone new.

“You can trust me ‘bout as much as you can trust your mum to love ya.”

“Ha, my mom is dead,” responds Spencer.

“Don’t mind him,” says Trey, rolling his eyes, “but you still have to prove yourself. Starting now, we’re gonna teach you about work.”

“Work?”

“Yes, this town can only operate alone because we have people working around the clock.” I did find it strange how isolated this town seems to be. “Come with us, it’ll be easier to explain when we get there.” This feels sketchy, but I have to trust them at this point.

We walk to a particular house in the center of town. From the outside, there’s nothing specific distinguishing this house from the rest—except for one thing. It’s 'bout twice the size of the second-largest house in the town. But it’s inside where the real differences begin to show.

Have you ever played make-believe as a kid and pretended you had a super cool secret base? The base would be nothing more than a tree or, if you got lucky, an abandoned house, but you would imagine it was the most epic, legendary base known to man. Well, this house is that base.

There’s nothing 'bout the inside of this house that is normal. It extends deep into the ground, and in the middle of the house, spanning its entire height, is a gigantic metal machine with people performing all kinds of jobs around and on it—the majority are sliding back and forth on seats, pulling on handlebars connected to a chain going directly into the machine.

“This is Our Life,” announces Trey, proudly.

“Your life?”

“No, Our Life.”

“That’s what I asked.”

“Like, its name.”

“What 'bout its name?”

Slightly annoyed, Harold comes to the rescue, “He’s trying to say its name is Our Life.”

“I see,” I respond, not quite sure what to say. Ignoring how weird and cultish it is that they call the machine “Our Life,” what in the actual hell is this insane contraption doing in the middle of some random ass town, and why am I only learning about it now?!!

“You are overwhelmed, I get it, anyone would be in the face of such a marvel,” Trey continues, sounding even prouder than before.

“Can I ask how?”

“How this exists?”

“Yeah.” Good thing he’s picking up what I’m putting down because I feel like my ability to speak is regressing to that of a baby.

“Well,” he starts, his pride swelling up to the point that I thought I could see it manifesting physically, “there was a man named Hefystis,” no shot, “he was a great man and an unmatched genius of overwhelming intellect. After barely surviving The Incident he decided to create something that could help sustain life for the people he cared for. That’s when he created Our Life, a machine that, by being powered through human labor, can create organic matter. He was so benevolent to the people of our town that he decided not to share the technology with the world, lest we might be targeted as a threat.” Trey’s eyes begin to water, “So we’ve honored his request for the past 60 years since his death.”

Not gonna lie, this whole “Hefystis” guy sounds conceited as hell. But I try to muster up as much excitement as I can.

“Woooooow.” That was so bad.

Harold and Spencer both shoot me a glare, but luckily in his emotional fit Trey believes I was genuine, “Thank you for having the same enthusiasm as me. We rarely ever accept new people, so this is a very exciting moment.” A tear falls down his cheek.

I pat his shoulder, “Yes brother, this is truly moving.”

After a few seconds of staring at Our Life, Spencer says, “Come on, we can’t keep staring forever. Let’s get this bastard to work.”

Trey wipes his eyes, “Oh yes, let’s keep moving.”

We continue walking, going down a flight of stairs and toward the weird pull machines.

“So, am I safe to assume that I’m going to be working on Our Life.”

“Yes you will,” says Trey. “While your work won’t be the most fun, as long as you remember what you're working for, it becomes easy.”

“I see. And what will this work be?”

“You will be manning one of the many power stations; they’re the ones with the people pulling the chains. All of the power stations must be running 24/7, and since you’re new, you’ll likely be working many night shifts.”

“Well, I’m lucky enough to be able to be here at all.”

“You are so right,” Trey’s eyes water again. I think he believes I meant something different from what I intended. “Let’s get you to work. Just take a look around and it becomes pretty obvious how to operate.” Trey taps one of the workers on the shoulder, “Excuse me ma’am, how long is left in your shift?”

“About an hour.”

“Well, it’s your lucky day. This young gentleman would like to take the rest of your shift.”

She laughed. “Kids these days. Thank you very much, young man.” She seems to think this is part of some game.

“Yeah, no problem,” I reply.

“We’ll be back at the end of your shift,” says Trey.

“You better not mess it up,” adds Spencer. Harold just stares at me.

I begin my work as they leave. It ain’t the most enjoyable, but all my biking makes this pretty easy to keep up.

What a crazy day.

New day, new me. And new me is now part of what may be a cult.