We passed the line of walkers, possessions and cars that had run out of fuel. They all blurred into a wailing mob of devastation. It chilled me to the bone. Some ran, but others simply dragged themselves forwards, convincing themselves and each other that they would rest soon. Men, women, children and elderly passed in a bitter blur, wailing their various sufferings, hoping their suffering claims would land upon kind ears who would listen and lend a hand.

Dad's knuckles whitened upon the steering wheel, the bones paling the surface of his skin. His face was carved into four-day stubble, and under his eyes, dark lines sketched their fatigue into his skin.

The line of walkers thinned until the occasional bike rider or motorcyclist who pulled over to the side of the road due to a lack of fuel. That's why most of them were walking; everyone else fled in a desperate panic, not planning ahead. Dad, being a natural planner risked or necks to retrieve petrol from a service station. We had been on the coast when they first announced that the safest areas for the general population would be inland, so he'd stocked up on hidden supplies; fuel, food and camping provisions.

We were on our way to an isolated camping lodge, where my mother and younger sister are situated, cut off from communications and life. An hour ago, the waves of refugees were beginning to pierce the edges of the reserve that neighboured the tens of acres of the property where my mother was. That was all we heard before the communication towers were shut off by the strikes.

The strikes. Large amounts of energy buildup, that was concentrated and released on either side of the Net. Most of the time it would kill anyone within a kilometre radius and incinerate on impact. Usually a warning was given approximately a few seconds before the strike occurred, a high-pitched wail that awoke deep instincts of self-preservation. In the past year, I'd seen a total of five strikes, each one unique and unforgettable, scarred into human memory.

So when I heard the high-pitched wail of the impending Strike, I looked toward my father. He understood and had enough time to grab my hand as tears pricked at my eyes.

"Sp-"

His words were torn apart by the flash, a searing blast of white energy that tore us and the car apart like an eggshell.

Noise. Faces. Death. Dad.

...

I awoke with tears stinging in my eyes, blurring the canopy that had formed over me while I slept. Koala Ferns cris-crossed in a natural blanket layered with fallen eucalyptus leaves, providing a coincidental waterproof awning.

Low Acmena Forest Flames hugged the ground dotted with King Protea. Their sharp petals still hugged the soft, bulbous stigma and Protea Frosted Fires curled around the upper legs of the bed, their fiery faces scowled upwards as if remembering why they hated the clear sky.

Sitting upon a bed of moss that had grown while I slept, I realised that my book had fallen to the floor. I fetched the Australian Native Plants, Sixth Edition, an ancient book (one of the few that had survived the Breach) that had been found at a decrepit location where there was only a collection of old vegetables and a rusting house.

A figure stood before me; dark hair curled around her hips, her once coca-coloured skin faded to an old, hot chocolate colour. She wore the faded clothing that we all had the honour of wearing, and her jeans sported a new smear of dirt handprints. Her eyes (which were a cerulean blue and overlaid with silver coins) were narrowed, which resulted in a crease above her nose.

"I've been working all night," Aqua sighed, "and you're here sleeping?"

By working, she meant our work on the Earth.

"You were the one who told me to go to sleep," I grumbled, standing up and throwing my pack over my shoulder before following her to the edge of the sparse Australian bush.

"Doesn't mean you actually do," she replied, and a wave of guilt embraced me.

As we walked, her lips pressed together in a suppressed laugh, "I'm joking Spirit, calm down."

"There aren't many jokes these days," I sighed, the morbid words drifting from my lips.

"Well, someone's a Debbie downer," Aqua teased, and we kept walking.

We were the only people left in the world: me, Aqua and three others, Flame, Zephyr and Glebe. Each of us wielded a different element: Aqua wielded water, Flame controlled fire, Zephyr manipulated air, Glebe could move pockets of Earth. Then there was me, Spirit, able to manipulate the very energy and essence of life, to focus it into healing and the beginning of life. Whilst the other four represented the physical aspects of the planet, I represented the spiritual side.

We roamed the world, free to do whatever we pleased. There were no parents or rules to stop us; the only thing that guided us was our black and white moral compass. Cleaning was good, killing was bad.

None of us remembered much before the Breach but for the faintest whispers of memories. Then there were the dreams that we could only guess were weird visions of our past lives. However, we knew of one thing; that we were to cleanse the planet, renew it, and then our work would be done. It was a message we received one day, the words curling around us right after the Awakening.

None of us were sure of the "then our work would be done". Theories and endless debates had proved nothing. Did it mean we got to live our lives in luxury? Be rulers of this empty world? And who were the people awaiting the renewal of the earth? Why didn't they help? Endless questions constantly filtered through our minds, but despite the unknown factor of these instructions, we still did as suggested.

At least we were almost finished, finally rehabilitating the final cities on the East Coast of the continent once known as Australia.

Aqua and I walked in silence, each deep in our own thoughts. Aqua would be most likely wondering about Flame, the complete opposite of her. A scrawny teenager with a full face and peppered cheeks of mandarin freckles, he had curls of tangerine hair and full lips that often pressed together in thought. Despite his childish appearance, he ate and slept the least; he was the guard at night and a hard heart. It surprised us all when they admitted their feelings for each other.

That night would be a gathering, a time where we could congregate together to remind and encourage each other that the end of the exhaustion and hard work wasn't too far away.

The sun was hang in the sky some way from the horizon when we arrived. A semi-burnt plaque declared the place as "The Lookout", and before The Breach was often used for non-machinery aerial sports such as parachuting, hang gliding and skydiving.

I felt a rush of energy as towering trees broke the ground and shoved their wooden fists into the air. Branches expanded from their trunks and leaves from the branches, and soon enough a natural shelter protected us from any sudden spouts of rain. Plants emerged from the ground forming the shapes of beds, soft and flowery.

There were limitations to my ability: I couldn't randomly grow a plant out of thin air, there needed to be a base, a seed or a building block for my ability to work and even though I could heal, I couldn't bring one back from the dead.

I relaxed on the mossy beddings I had created until I noticed Aqua was waving the device we had found a few days ago in the air.

"Stop!" I cried, my calm atmosphere broken by her actions, "you'll break it," She poked her tongue like a naughty child and went back to her proceedings.

We had found the device a few days ago, crusted in rubble, which was a surprise because they were so breakable.

Breakable.

For a moment, I questioned how I had come to this opinion. Then shrugged it off, the information probably came from one of the hundreds of dreams that plagued me at night.

I snatched the device out of her hands. It was covered in dark leather, and spots of mould bloomed along the case's edge. I searched to side of the device for the power button, and a vaguely familiar symbol lit up the screen.

"It's alive," Aqua cried and hid behind one of the beds. I shook my head, surprised by her sudden childish behaviour. Despite Aqua's undying love for the thing she was commonly afraid of what she didn't understand. This was often hidden when the others weren't around. Men didn't really understand women that well.

"It won't eat you," I teased her and she approached slowly, the way a curious animal might approach a new toy.

The screen loaded a photo and I felt something inside of me drop. Displayed on it was a photo of three young girls, staring up at the camera gleefully.

"Hey, isn't that us?"

This part has been edited as of 02.12.2014

A/N: Hey guys, please comment how you feel about the book so far. I appreciate any kind of constructive criticism or tips. How do you feel about Flame? Would you prefer more of a 'bad guy' or are you fine with how he is? I'm thinking of changing the characters names... Comment any names that you would like to have for the five, please keep them somehow related to the character's element. If you have any general questions, please ask as I am willing to answer them, even if it gives bits of the plot away.

Thanks for reading; please vote, comment and follow.