Elsewhere, in the depths of the universe where many stars, cosmos, and galaxies resided, were two beings. A being of fire, comprised of many universes, held an infinite loop. Released from its hand, the loop moved towards the second being. A being of bone, fashioned like the grim reaper, with a hand missing its metacarpal bones. The reaper broke the infinite loop and so died the fire; the stars themselves losing their life… And all faded to nothingness.
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Old Man's Clock tower - 1774, SEPT 21st, Wednesday.
Rusty, red, and abandoned, the ferris wheel stood out under the peaches and cream-colored sky. Out of commission for quite some time, it stood motionlessly against the morning sun. The air was dense with the smell of factory smoke, rotting fish, rusted metal, crude oil, burning diesel, and smoldering coals.
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Nearby stood a giant wood cutout of a fisherman, holding a can of SARDINE SANDY. This sign was held up by old wooden planks. The yellow colored lead paint, that made his raincoat, was stripped off in various areas; due to age.
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A billboard of a rectangle fish tin was nearby as well. On it’s center, in black font, it said SAVE 25% ON FISH OIL! BUY NOW! With the eyes of this fish replaced by the percentage symbol. Hanging overhead were three old fashion lamps designed to illuminate this billboard. At its base was a metal grating, wide enough for one man, with a collapsable ladder on its side.
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Ocean loomed nearby, with a cement sidewalk paralleling it. The waves of the ocean brushed against walls that confined it. Metal bollards, connected by chain, made a fence to prevent people from accidentally falling off the walkways. In the reflection of the waters loomed the shadow of a construction crane, still holding its bulky wooden crates.
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An adjacent warehouse had a hook near its roof, holding an anchor up; almost like a unique sign. Next to it was metal shipping containers full of cargo. As well as factories of aged brick, barely held together by metal bands; and bolts the size of a thumb. Antiquated windows, covered in slimy green moss, stood massively in the mortar. Industrial towers reigned the sky with billowing clouds of white smoke.
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It was inside one of these towers, behind the massive wall of glass, that the silhouette of a man lit a cigar. The rising sunlight had yet to reach the dim room he stood in. Letting out a large puff of smoke, he watched the wisps slowly fade and fuse into the factory smog. As he inhaled again, a woman in red picked him up off the ground by his neck. He stared at the woman, her eyes bandaged and a big malicious grin on her face. She pressed him against the glass wall, cracking the decades old pane, as the clock tower stood in the distance.
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It has been 13 years since Noche was kidnapped. Today was the present day. On the distant clocktower sat a crow. It had a glint in its eyes, and spread its wings, but didn’t caw. Past the clock circlet and massive gears was a small wooden room; residing atop some decrepit wooden stairs. The wooden room was musty, and smelled of fungus in the still air. There was a bed, a nearby table with an old wax warped candle, a bookshelf with many photo frames, and a medium sized dresser. On the bedside table was a cracked glass, half filled with water, and a piece of moldy bread. On the dresser were some envelopes and papers, most of which were overdue bills, that were being held down by empty orange transparent pill containers.
The photo frames on the bookshelf were organized in such a way to tell a story. The first photo was framed in red, with smokestacks engraved on its border, it showed a shy boy standing next to a young girl. Next was a frame of orange, flames were engraved into it. Here the frightened boy and girl held hands as the town burned before them. Third was a frame of yellow, with wedding bells engraved upon it, as the boy and girl now appeared to be a newly wedded couple helping to rebuild the town. Fourth was the green frame, tools were engraved on it and the couple were building the base of this clocktower. Fifth was an aqua frame with gentle flowers engraved into it. Here the woman looked very sick, in a hospital bed, as the man forced himself to smile. Next to it was a black frame, there was no engraving, and the man stood alone. The seventh frame was violet, with a few dots engraved in it, the man was now middle-aged and stood next to a young boy who hungrily ate bread. Last was the pink frame, engraved with gears, it showed the teenage boy holding the old man with loving care.
The door on the ground floor unlocked and an older version of the man from the photos stood in the doorway. He was now shorter and required a cane, but otherwise looked the same; if slightly older. Holding a paper bag overflowing with groceries in his left hand, he approached the stairs. In his old age, they seemed to trail up infinitely to him. With a sigh, he began the trek upwards. Halfway up, a wooden plank broke under his foot. The old man stumbled backwards in the worst way possible. He glided above the stairs before hitting the wooden floor below. His grocery bag contents scattering to the winds. Reds, greens, oranges, a glint of yellow, some brown, and other colorful objects moved about in a blur. Apples splattered, oranges bounced, and a bag of bread slid on the ground. As everything settled, the paper bag slowly floated down and made a soft crumpling noise in the now silent clocktower.
Paramedics came and took the old man, a crowd formed and watched. It wasn’t until dusk arrived, when the sky was a vibrant yellow, did the old man leave the hospital. With bandages wrapped around his head, he stumbled forward slowly. Arriving at the clock tower, he noticed a pink slip nailed to his door. EVICTION NOTICE, due to lack of payments… He didn’t read the whole letter, there was too many tears in his eyes. Wiping his eyes, he shuffled towards the door as he took out an ancient key ring. He sorted them until he found the one for the front door. There was a slight wave of relief when he realized the locks had not been changed. It was short lived, for the top of the clock tower exploded.
Shellshocked, he could only stare upwards at the falling clock circlet. Screams broke him out of his stupor and he turned his head to see it falling towards a mother and child. Without thought, he tried to move towards them, but gasped and fell to his knees. There was too much strain on his heart. All he could do was watch, as the mother embraced her son; the circlet a few mere feet away. Crashing, breaking, metal echoed throughout the entire area. For a moment afterwards, there was silence, as the dust settled. The clock circlet was bent in two, held up by a stranger who did a single vertical split kick. This figure wore a cloak that had a purple sky, white stars, gray blue clouds, and trimmed golden edges.
With the family safe, the old man could only watch in disbelief as his precious clock circlet was heavily damaged. A moment later, a tall dirty man in brown ragged clothing landed in-between the old man and the mysterious cloaked figure. The man in brown swore under his breath, then unnaturally jumped nearly 30 or 40 ft in a single bound. Hot on his trail, a new person arrived. He was a man in a white jacket, covered in black fur, and he landed on the clock with enough force to split it in half. Before the broken clock could fall, this new person jumped just as high as his prey.
The sudden impact nearly caused the cloaked figure, female in appearance, to stumble as gears, springs, as various parts fell around her. Seeing the clock circlet, one of the few memories from bygone days, be utterly destroyed… The old man could do nothing to prevent the tears that fell down his face. The cloaked girl ran straight towards the man in brown and the man in white. From the broken clock, a gear rolled up to the old man. On the ground, he picked it up and tightly pressed it into his chest as the tears fell harder. The cloaked girl ran past him, never even noticing the old man.
The Duo’s Mid chase talk - 1774, SEPT 21st, Wednesday.
Chasing after the two men ahead of her, the cloaked girl ran past a poster that caught her attention and slowed her down. Written on it was the words THE MOON MAKES THE TIDE, and those words caused her to experience a moment of DeJaVu. Shaking the feeing off, she ran past a gate in the nearby brick wall, at the exact same time the blind girl in red did. The cloaked girl didn’t notice the person on the other side of the fence, but the blind girl did. As the cloaked girl kept running, the blind girl stopped.
“Could that be…”
The blind girl pondered. Then she smiled.
“No… No, I’ll find someone strong enough soon.”
With a wicked grin, the blind girl kept walking towards the dark alleyways.
It didn’t take long for the cloaked girl to catch up to the man in white. With a single jump she rose 20ft in the air. Using a small building as a stepping stool, she jumped again onto the rooftops where the two man were having their chase.
“SHITE SHITE SHITE!” The man in brown thought, “COR BLIMEY! HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!”
Tears started to form in his eyes from the whipping winds and the anxiety he currently felt. This was the fastest he had ever moved before. Ever moved in his life. He didn’t even think it was possible, but right now he was putting olympic athletes to shame. It would be incredible if it wasn’t so terrifying. Yet despite this incredible speed, that he was feeling for the first time in his life, the man with the white jacket was keeping up effortlessly. Sweat poured down his face as he turned to his pursuer.
“YOU WANKERS! HOW DARE YOU DO THAT TO THE PRECIOUS CLOCKTOWER!” He said, “LEAVE ME ALONE!”
“You made the bomb.” The man in white said.
The man in brown grit his teeth. If only they hadn’t followed him there. He thought he was safe hiding amongst the gears, but they found him so quickly. All he wanted was to get away from them, but they were both so supernaturally fast. The bomb was all he could think of and now he regretted it. It was such a dumb idea, now the clock tower ruined.
“No.” He thought, “It can always be repaired… Besides, it wouldn’t have damaged the clock tower where I placed it!”
He silently gritted his teeth again
“YOU’RE THE ONE WHO THREW IT LIKE A MISSILE!” He shouted, “YOU WON’T TAKE ME AWAY! NOT FROM HERE!”
“Say what you want.” The man in white said.
“When you learn CREATE, you are banished from the Humane World.” His eyes narrowed harrowingly, “You are going to the Create Continent. Either as a civilian, or a terrorist.”
The man in brown turned his head forward a bead of cold sweat fell down the side of his head.
“No, I can’t leave here… I can’t… I still have so much to do… I still have people I need to help.” He thought.
“That burglary was your downfall.” The man in white said, “I’m tired of seeing criminals like you.”
The man in brown scowled, masking the worry and concern.
“Its not my fault… I had too.” He thought, “I knew it was wrong, but I had too…Its not fair.”
The man in white was silent as he chased his target. Gradually, the cloaked girl approaching.
“Slow.” He thought, “She’s still too slow.”
His attention went back to the man in brown.
“No matter how old I get, there’s always more of them.” He thought, “Scum… Only concerned with themselves. Even now.”
The man in white frowned.
“I’m so tired of selfish people like him.” He turned to the approaching girl, “I still can’t believe she snuck onto my mission… At the very least, I can have her deal with this terrorist.”
As the cloaked girl approach, she noticed the man in brown getting tired. He was an unusual looking fellow. He wore many tattered ratty clothes, an old brown gear-esque hat, a dried leather brown jacket with a yellow patch on his left arm, tattered pants belted up with rope, two shoes with the right one broken to the point that his toes were fully exposed to the elements, and a grey shirt that was more like a ripped bed sheet. His nose was long like a sickle, his eyebrows bushy, and he wore spectacles that were missing the bars that held onto one’s ears.
Likewise, her companion and superior, also wore a strange outfit. He wore silver sunglasses that were comprised of a connected X over each eye. His white, short sleeved, jacket had black fur on the collar and sleeves. With strong arms, a lithe muscular frame, and a hardened middle aged face, he had all the qualities of a skilled fighter. The wrinkles on his brow almost gave him the appearance of a permanent scowl; he looked about fifty-three. He had a unique goatee and finely trimmed sideburns. His shirt was black, with white details of various skull and themes of the dead upon it. Also, his shirt had a V-neck cut with a doily design on it’s collar. Lastly, his pants were also black while his pure white boots went just below the knee.
Noting the appearances of both men, she saw the man in brown jump off the rooftops. He landed right in the middle of what appeared to be a town square; which was very close to the ocean. Here acrid soot intermingled with sea salt air. The air was still, and except for the nearby sound of factory metal clashing, all was silent. Turning to face the two chasing him, he watched as they loomed on the roof nearby. His heart thumping, his face stern and resolved, he stared up at them with a defiant glare; as a cold sweat ran down his face.
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