There was nothing known not made of energy.
The terrorists hit the power grid, hoping for a revolution, receiving instead only the slow and agonizing death of starvation.
A million gears whirred with a synchronous clattering as the ardent machinist’s great, metal citywalker roared to life and rose up from the ground on legs thick as skyscrapers, smokestacks pumping black daggers to the sky. “It works, it works!”
See if you can use these prompts to make a story of your own and if you do, tag us on Twitter at @KaiterEnless so that we can see and share what you’ve written.