SKY - A Protogen Story

Freedom.

GO CRAZY.

She walked down the street with no stride in her step. Almost seeming like she was in a rush, raising her knees upwards as if she were skipping. She wasn't skipping, but in a rush she was. Her boots clanked onto the concrete sidewalk like horse feet on a stoney floor. A pebble colored trench coat was all that protected her furry body from the chilling August breezes, causing the coat so sway in several directions, and too served to cover her body features. Her pants had several pockets near the hips, thighs, and rear end, yet, nothing filled them.

Concrete buildings and structures surrounded her as she entered the downtown area of the city, with several shops and business emporiums on every corner. It was a labyrinth any newcomer could get lost in, but no newcomer had come for decades, none coming to see the boarded up shops, the mass killings, and never being watched, closely and keenly. Closely and keenly. Even when Saint Michael Boulevard became the most populated by shops and stores, you would hardly ever see a soul walking by. Some would be seen in the shops or pubs, talking amongst themselves. Others would be seen in a true rush to their homes, but those unlucky few who are tardy for curfew would be seen beaten to, possibly death, by Their Taskmasters.

Curfew wasn't until 8 PM, and judging by the massive clock standing on the heavenly gray pole, it was only 3:44. A square shaped foundation surrounded the clock, looking almost to one you'd find in a train station. It stood on a round shaped platform, with an inscription reading around the platform in a blood red color:

TIME IS A MERE ILLUSION. ONLY A WORLD RULED BY THEM CAN THRIVE

It seemed as if this was the only thing in the city that had color. The world had seemed so gloomy, with everything constructed out of dark gray concrete. Even the pub in the distance had the sad color of the city. Such a pub was special to her, one that each day, she would come to. The door had opened with the ding of a bell near the top hinge, and nobody but a man sitting near the corner booth was present, close to finishing his drink. She didn't say a word as she sat in one of the chairs near the counter, and a brown furred Protogen came from the back, drying his paws with a rag.

"Ah, evening." He said "What can I get you?"

"A water, please." She responded, and nary a minute later, a glass of water was present in front of her.

She gave small, individual sips of the water, giving a soft pant with each one. She was silent after that, not looking back nor around. Nothing was on her mind but the large crowds that would soon come down the boulevard. As a matter of fact, it would be today.

"Are you going to the Freedom Parades, ma'am?" The man near the corner booth spoke, drawing her attention.

"Perhaps. Are you?" She replied in curiosity

"No. It's a pain to remember the war. The large crowds will be the end of me." He replied "Come, sit here. I don't bite."

Following the strangers orders, she sat down in the seat in front of him. She could see the bandage around his wrist, a leather jacket over his torso, and the distinguishable visor over his face. Everyone in the city had one of the visors, including the girl. If not, she would have been dead.

"Did you fight in the war?" She asked.

"Yes, I did. I enlisted after my brother died, just after the first decade." He explained "I told myself that I would spill my own blood for him, and I did. Hence, the scars. They weren't the only ones, though."

"Mental scars, sir?" She asked once more.

"I suppose, but that's what war brings. War can break a man, and with it, his world."