"The World had been heading into a golden age of technology. Years before, we had begun using Nuclear Power as our main source of energy, afraid of the upcoming depletion of natural carbon-based fuels. It didn't take long before more discoveries were made, and the technology evolved further. The Tattered Spires were the pinnacle of our technological evolution. Tall towers built to resist the sandstorm our world eventually became, their only use to; release airborne vaccines and cure diseases worldwide in seconds. As the pinnacle of technological evolution, our greed naturally turned these medical tools into destructive weapons. Because of these towers, corporations had fought for their control, eventually starting the event known as The Wipe. The Tattered Spires stood as wars were fought around them. The wars then turned nuclear. The Spires, which withstood the forces that attacked its bases, fell under the same power that kept them running. Billions died as all the Spires fell, all except one. The Nuclear Detonations sent dust flying into the atmosphere, effectively causing a global nuclear winter by blocking out sunlight. The Giver of Life to all that lived; was…" I continued, but my child had chosen then to interrupt me.

"Were people always so evil?" Violet asked, but my reply was more complicated than her question. "No… it was our fault for making them."

I sat back, remembering the events of years before, when I told my daughter the story of The Wipe, the beginning of the nuclear winter. It’s been hundreds of years since then, and yet the planet has remained cold. My colleagues and I have been busy. The Tattered Spires, we believed, were a monument to technological evolution and the greed that follows our species. People have hated and avoided it since the event, but not us. We believed that the spires were the key to restoring our sunlight-deprived planet. We just had one more test.

“Alex, we’re ready. We’re waiting for you,” a voice spoke. It was ADVENT, a colleague and also a result of technological evolution, but that was a story for another time. I headed towards the testing laboratories to see my fellow colleagues, Alecia, Emily, and a hologram of ADVENT, already waiting for me. A small hello and a press of a button began our testing. The tests were simple: make use of the Spires and release our dust-devouring chemicals into the sky. It always worked, up until the point where we learned the chemicals had to stay in the sky long enough to destroy the dust. They always fell to the ground faster that they can devour dust, despite their programming. My colleagues had stated that they could fix it in a few hours’ time, and so me and ADVENT waited, and I was grateful for it.

I spent those few hours walking around the city, talking to people who await our success. Awaiting the day we bring back the sun. Most people have given up on our venture, but me and my colleagues work for the people who still believe. The final spire was not even a kilometre away and my colleagues were adamant that we would restore light to our dark planet. Some of the time was also spent at the top of the Spire, looking down at the world I was trying so hard to save. It was a daunting task, but I was ready to face it.

                As I returned to the base of the Spire, I was met with a large crowd. My colleagues walked out of the collective and went towards me, holding a box which we believed would be the cure for our planet’s condition. My daughter was also in the crowd, smiling at me from a distance, the light of the candle she held barely making her face visible. As I held the box and joined my colleagues in the elevator for my return to the top of the spire, the townspeople entered the other elevators and joined us in our travel to the top. The very second that we put the chemicals into the spire’s release mechanism, we were frozen with anticipation, watching the grey skies for the sign of our success. We heard the blasts of the spire’s insides, the lurching sounds of our last hope firing into the sky, and we closed our eyes from the familiar blinding light of the spire’s launch.

Opening our eyes seemed like the worst possible idea I could think. If it were to fail, our work would’ve been for nothing, but I trusted my colleagues. The few who chose to open their eyes welcomed the sight of the golden orb of light, hanging across the sky. To eyes who have never seen such beauty, we were amazed, and a smile shone across my face, and that of the townspeople too.

As we watched in awe, the elder of the town spoke a quote, heard by all who were there. And I’m sure, oh I’m sure, that none of them will ever forget it. “After the greyest  and unhappiest of days, it is thrilling to see the sun again. That golden orb, the Giver of Life.”