Black Undaunted

Morning broke in the eastern hemisphere. Golden droplets of sunlight grazed the tiny grains of sand causing a flood of sparkling throughout the desert. One structure jutted from its earthen tomb to tickle and taunt the soft underbelly of the sky above. Its dimensions were massive, but unadorned even at the most minute level. The deep obscure onyx of the walls illustrated the unfeeling hearts of the population in general. People entered this establishment, but they returned forever changed inside. No one noticed because no one cared. The working class even took their own existence for granted, so the existence of others was only a trivial myth. The towering structure overshadowed the land like it overshadowed the hope of all nations. No description really existed of the place. It was only called the Black Undaunted. In its cold and callous walls, the life was drained from humanity by one single man. His power and prowess unmatched, but his mind and body unstable. One woman knew of, as he liked to be called, " the greatest visionary of the time" , Alando Marquez. Her life was metamorphosed in the most peculiar way in her struggle for thought. All she wanted was an emotionally productive society, interaction, compassion, or at least some level of human understanding. She awoke each day to the promise of a new idea. Ideas were rare and valued, but quite uncommon mostly because they were unneeded. Her work shirt slid over her shoulders every morning and an embroidered name tag reading Sara laid smoothly on her chest.