LOTF APOCOLYPTICA

ALTERNATE ENDING ONE: HALE PROTOCOL

The sunlight touched everything. IT was so beautiful, Roger thought to himself, that he didn't deserve it. Yet, this was a new beginning. A new chapter. A new tale to tell. The sun continued to reach beyond him, spreading out thousands upon thousands of arms to the world below. Though it was steaming and putrid, it was still there. Underneath the grime of the city, a little red and white umbrella sat ever and eternal. Somewhere, vested amongst the dirty buildings, a drawing had jammed itself into a still-standing fencepost, waiting for its owner to return. The wind concealed it from view.

Suddenly, Roger looked up. He peered past the sunlight, to the helicopter waiting beyond. He gripped the AI in his hand tighter. All of a sudden, Ralph's hand felt funny in his.

He didn't belong here.

He belonged over there.

Jack and Ralph jumped back as Roger ripped away from them, tearing across the muddy landscape. A flash of light illuminated the clouds above, illuminated his face. He was confused more than ever, but also hopeful. He could hear something hidden underneath the blades of the chopper. He could feel something deep in his chest, a pulling. It was leading him there. Water splashed upwards as he ran, thrown from mismatched puddles. Another strike of strange lightening blew up the sky, and he threw off his black war cloak. In the instant, it appeared almost white. Everything was rendered a shade lighter than before. In the instant, he suddenly understood everything. The AI in his hands seemed to as well; it swirled and worked viciously, bubbling forth the memories within, a story that had to continue, a life that had to go on, a heartbeat, emotion, green eyes squinted in laughter, the scar where the car had hit him, something that had never happened before, but oh, how he wanted it to.

He wanted it to.

So, he ran.

"HALE!" Roger screamed hoarsely after the chopper, "HALE, WAIT! DON'T GO, PLEASE!"

In another part of the city, a paper loosed itself and blew away with the wind. A family portrait. And they were smiling.

…

"Got it yet?" The pilot asked the man in the back of the helicopter, who was crouched over a mass of fraying wires, attempting to breathe life back into them.

"Maybe." The graying man answered. His shaking hands made the wires spark. He hooked this one here, this one there, this one to a little LCD monitor in his lap. Suddenly, they glowed china blue. The color slowly bled into the rest of the circuitry, even the screen, and projected the words it had been wanting to say.

"I AM HERE."

"It's working." The man announced to the pilot, "It's working."

"Good."

It was silent for a while, as the men glanced outside of the chopper windows, to the flattened, torn landscape below. Then, more words.

"GO BACK."

The man who had fixed the machine looked up, curious. "What?"

"GO BACK." It repeated, "Go Back."

…

A life that must go on.

It's not the end.

There's a happy ending out there somewhere.

I just have to find it.

As the three destinies converged on the plain, and the sun rose above the horizon, something changed in the city. It slowly gave its secrets up, every last one of them. They went in the forms of papers and torn pages, drifting up into the sky as the wind pushed them away. Roger ran towards a new dawn, a new day.

Somewhere, over the horizon, it had to be there.

"HALE!" He yelled, calling, "HALE, I'M HERE!"

…

"Roger?"