ISOLATED
WHERE IS YOUR CONSCIENCE?
Fictional version:
The city wasn't really dead—it had just stopped breathing.
Buildings stood empty like giant skeletons, broken windows staring hopelessly at the gray sky. The streets were filled with abandoned vehicles, traffic lights flashing aimlessly. Not only did it look like a zombie town, but there were also disturbances from orcs who always made the situation worse.
They came from the sewers, ugly, fat creatures with rough skin and angry eyes. Every time the survivors began to rebuild their lives, the tie-wearing orcs attacked—seizing supplies, destroying shelters, and leaving behind a fear deeper than ever before.
Amidst the chaos, the 6Lf Resistance was formed.
They were not soldiers. They were not heroes. They were simply people who refused to surrender to the system.
Choco, a former communications technician turned alien, led the small group from an abandoned subway station. There they hid, made plans, and looked out for each other. Homemade radios became their primary weapon—connecting them to other pockets of survivors who were also isolated, separated by rubble and threats.
“As long as we can still hear each other,” Choco said one night, “we haven't lost yet.”
But that night, a strange voice entered their frequency.
It wasn't human. Nor was it static interference.
It was a warning—the orcs were moving closer than ever before.
The 6Lf Resistance had to choose: stay hidden and slowly fade away, or break out of isolation and fight, even though the odds were almost impossible.
As dawn touched the dead city, the members of the 6Lf Resistance rose to the surface. Amidst the fog and shadows of collapsed buildings, they stepped forward—not to save the city, but to prove that hope was not yet lost.
In an isolated city, resistance was the only way to survive.
Non-fiction version:
This illustration is a continuation of my previous work titled “DOES GOD ENJOY SEEING HIS SERVANTS”. Here, I would like to share some of the concerns that have always been weighing on my mind, which I may not have had the opportunity to express in my previous work.
on my mind, which I may not have had the opportunity to express in my previous work.
As far as I remember, it was on the 5th or 6th day after the flood. After the water receded and the situation around me was still chaotic and messy, I left the evacuation center carrying two buckets to fetch water from a neighbor's well. After I managed to get the water and was about to return to the evacuation center, I accidentally saw something that was both scary and sad at that moment. At first, I thought it was the carcass of an animal like a buffalo or goat being dragged on a tarp, but it turned out to be a human corpse that had shriveled and was covered in mud all over its body.
I still remember very clearly what happened that day, when the body was dragged along, the sound of the tarp scraping against the mud-covered asphalt, making a “srett... srett...” sound, haunts my mind every night since I witnessed it firsthand. And even now, I still cannot forget that incident, and those sounds still echo in my mind. It's not just the sound of the tarpaulin dragging the human corpse, but also the sounds of people screaming for help on the night after the flood that still haunt me every night and disturb my sleep, even now. Honestly, this time I can’t hold back and want to cry, because the sounds and memories of that incident still haunt me every night.
Returning to the matter of the human corpse I saw, after it had been dragged away a few days ago, I thought it had been properly buried, but it turned out that the corpse had been abandoned again in front of the mosque terrace, on the side of the road and scattered with four buffalo carcasses not far from the human corpse. For the second time, I saw it again, the human corpse lying face down, very fragile and shriveled, when I went to loot food and drink. A short time later, after successfully obtaining many looted items, I walked back to my shelter along the same road. And for the third time, I saw the human corpse still lying there. This time, I was walking quite close to the human corpse.
Suddenly, a few words flashed through my mind: “WHERE ARE THE BODY BAGS? AND WHERE IS THEIR CONSCIENCE?” Those words slowly became a raging fire, as if doused with gasoline, and echoed loudly, rebelling from within my mind. The scene was exactly like those in post-apocalyptic films. The corpses and animal carcasses scattered around and the chaotic situation around me became one. Not only that, there was a moment that I remember most, when I complained to the village chief about the buffalo carcasses that were rotting day by day and spreading a very unpleasant and disturbing odor. I also helped unload a supply of basic necessities that arrived for the first time in that chaotic situation. After all the goods, such as rice, water, and other food items, were collected and arranged at a logistics post, I found myself in the middle of a crowd of people who were eagerly hoping to receive the basic food supplies. It was at that moment that something very unpleasant, sad, and at the same time very upsetting and disgusting to me happened to the officials. A cry of anger and disappointment that could not be contained or held back suddenly erupted in the middle of the crowd.
At that time, I was very angry when I saw them (the officials) making things difficult and worsening the situation for the people who were starving due to the impact of the flood, who just wanted to get some basic food supplies at the logistics post at that time, and I cursed those officials in front of the crowd. In the midst of that heated situation, all the people there could only remain silent, including the officials and village police who also stood silently watching me shout loudly and curse at them while giving them the middle finger. Then I left the location.
After that incident, still feeling extremely disgusted and disappointed, I openly criticized the issue of the decomposing buffalo carcass, which was becoming increasingly foul and disturbing, while also addressing the issue of food aid, which they controlled and did not distribute evenly. After my criticism was loudly echoed, I received insults and reprimands from the neighborhood chief, who also tried to silence me by forcing me to take down my post on social media. When we accidentally met in person, he tried to reprimand me again and intimidated me a little. Then I fought back by saying, “Okay, sorry if my language is harsh, but that's the fact, HAHA.” And since then, all of them (the officials and village police), especially the neighborhood chief, have looked at me with resentment and perhaps with hidden meaning.
This drawing is made with ink on paper, using a pencil.
Sketch:
Outline:
I created this illustration as a form of criticism of my anxiety, disgust, and disappointment towards the government and officials in this region who are so greedy for power that they are willing to sacrifice their own people, some of whom live in hunger and lack clean water, for the sake of satisfying their own appetites and interests. Moreover, they constantly instill fear, akin to terror and feeling of trauma, in those who dare to speak out for truth and justice.
This is all I can say for right now, sorry if there are wrong words or my typing is not perfect.
Thank you for taking the time just to stop by and see my work, and see you in my next work. 🖐👽
