Saving The World On A Wing And A Prayer

Time travel's a funny old thing when you've morphed into an insect. At least we get a choice. A fly seems appropriate considering what we go through and where we come out.

I love the irony. 

I mean, we're pulling information from somewhere back to somewhere else to use against the something we don't want to exist in order to be able to get to the somewhere without the something killing us first. 

Get it?

No?

Well, in classic Breakfast Club rhetoric --in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions-- we spy. 

I'm a spy on the wall. 

A literal wall built in 2176 to separate past from present.

Back then, humanity had lost its way, so we created a utopia of peace. Our past ills bricked up whilst our future existence was manipulated into the perfect society.

It worked for a long time. 

Until they came. 

No one really knows how, but long forgotten misdemeanours manifested themselves into living beings. Bad thoughts evolving over time, growing and dividing into an alien existence.

The war started in the cracks. They sent trackers through to infiltrate our minds, destroy our health. We didn't notice until the damage was done. The cracks became crevices. The wall began to crumble. 

We fought back. We stood firm. 

We continue to fight, to patch the wall again and again. It's stable enough, but we're losing and the only way now is to destroy them once and for all.

So, here I am, in the dark, roughened interior of a crack, praying the wall doesn't shift and snuff out my tiny existence.

What was it that Pascal said? 'Flies are so mighty they win battles.'

Let's hope he's right.

Written for microcosms prompt: Fly on the wall/past or future/action