I miss you more than anything. I thought the time would make me forget, but everyday hurts the same as the day before. I still pray day in and day out that you are somehow still with us, that you will magically appear outside my door, safe and sound in Singapore. But, I know that isn't what happened; I heard from some of the Chinese Newcomers that Chicago was one of the targets of the nukes. Nothing could've made you leave-- even if it meant your death was certain!-- and I used to admire that stubbornness of yours, but in truth I have grown to hate it. You could've survived, you should've survived! The Canadian border was easy to sneak through; besides, us being a couple would've guaranteed a refugee status, even without arriving illegally. Still, it seems I've inherited some of your stubborness. I truly refuse to believe you died during that horrid war, that just simply isn't a possibility in my eyes. If you somehow get this letter, then I know that there must be some divine office, like you've always said. An Adventurer somehow getting to the United States (or more accurately, its ruins) is impossible, even more impossible that said Adventurer shed its mecha suit near you, and that you for some reason decided to open up the metal sheeting to find this letter deep in a leg. Nevertheless, they said the Dome was impossible, and here I am safely under it so... let impossibilites happen twice.
I guess I should write about what life has been like here. Its... difficult, but I am alive, so I can't complain. The shifts at the factories are hard, grueling, and I feel that everyday I'm being pushed to my limit, but I've heard from some others that they the Party is making robots to replace the factory jobs; to that I say "thank God!" I hope I get put on an agriculturalist job if this occurs... seems much easier. I've been beginning to talk to one of the girls working with me. I believe she is from what used to be Malawi-- she is very beautiful, to say the least (but none matches in comparison to your beauty!). We've only talked very little, and I'm not sure if she is like us, but for the sake of my sanity I hope so. I am married to a man (imagine that!), Pranav. Our marriage is purely the result of national programs; we are all obligated to marry and have children to further humankind. We have a 11 year old daughter, Amelia. She is smart, but I don't get to see her much due to my work; I never wanted children (you know that), and I can't say I have always felt this maternal instict towards her, but I put her in this world and I have an obligation to care for her.
Even with all of the blessings Singapore has given me, nothing will fill the hole left in my heart. Know that if I had even heard of your continued existence, I would give all of my safety up for you. Know that.
Yours,
[A rip in the original makes the name unreadable.]
MAJULAH is a post-apocalyptic story set in the Haven of Singapore, a nation which built a glass dome over itself in order to not be affected by the certain nuclear war between China and the United States. All were given free entry into the country in the buildup to the bombings, resulting in 2 billion people flooding the country; as far as anyone knows, they are probably the only survivors. Housed entirely with the East Region, the need for housing (and the limits of space) has resulted in densely packed buildings, taller than the Burj Khalifa. These buildings even extend downwards into the Underground, a massive complex that is under the entire city. These immigrants, unofficially called "Newcomers", are required to work long, 10 hour work days in jobs not of their choosing. They are legally required to marry and have children. Punishment, too, is unkind: minor breaking of the law puts you into longer work days and larger crimes will have you exiled; an almost certain death sentence. Stark social stratification has occurred as a result: if Singapore was accounted into the immigration numbers, its residents would only be the 51st most represented (and only 0.31% of the total population!), yet they retain a much larger set of privileges than their Newcomer counterparts. Referred to colloquially as the "Originals", they have jobs of their choosing and can live wherever they want (there is still a legal requirement to marry and have children). Although de jure their corporal punishment is the same, de facto most crimes committed by Originals are ignored, especially if it is against a Newcomer. Furthermore, although the two groups can legally marry, society fully prevents this. For Newcomers to join the eschelons of the Originals, you must be the best of the best (again, out of 2 billion people!) and have a large amount of luck. Even with all of this, social unrest amongst Newcomers is fairly low: the guilt associated with knowing that you are the only survivor of your entire bloodline makes it hard to want to rebel against the country that saved you. With all that said, the newcomers have something the Originals don't:
Mechas. Originally created for Adventurers-- the only ones allowed to leave Singapore to gather materials-- their components have made their way down, resulting in a unique subculture of mecha fighting rings. Technically heavily illegal, they are rarely prosecuted by the government, even with them being dangerous and destructive affairs. Here, where many immigrants and their children are unable to speak each others' languages, or are unable to participate in Original society, they can carve out their own social order. This is where we meet our protagonists.
TO BE CREATED...
at some point.