Nocturne Project (Re-Conceptualizing)

Prologue: Ch - 1: Contact

Hmph. The stage is set. What will it be? For one brave enough. Take the stage. Under the spotlight. Must put up a good show.

- ???

(Mountains)

(6:XX p.m.)

---Third Person Pov---

At last. The stage is now set. The curtain has been cast aside. Now. Revealing a scene of motion. An object skims through the mountainous hills at breakneck speeds... Some sort of machinery, piloted by someone cruising through the treacherous heights of the imposing mountain. Safe to assume that it takes a great level of skill and guts to perform such maneuvers without portraying any kind of stiffness, or hesitation. Or perhaps, a lunatic whose life is worth nothing to them for a smidge of adrenaline. Or not. In this specific case, it's execution is smooth as it can be. As the heights threaten and punish a singular mistake, the pilot seizes this course with proficiency. Foul and fair. Regardless, they masterfully drift through the terrain with no faults in acceleration. The need for speed is clear. Their piloting skills are remarkable. This goes without saying. Moving like the wind without any limitations. Their hair flowing wildly, free. Alive. Present. Breaking through the barriers of wind. Piercing through it in a swift, constant speed and motion. Turning, drifting. Shortening the distance between their destination rapidly. The greenery of the mountains contrasts the sight of the machinery and it's pilot. Luminous. Out of place. Where nature is preserved by mysterious forces. Shrouded in mystery. So. It is it's charm. The ambient is misty. As the heights were now getting significant. A chilly, natural wind was breathable. Pure. Free and easy. The pilot checks their remaining distance on a luminous, advanced display on their visor. Never letting themselves lose control of their speed. Focused.

Pilot:"53 minutes... That's it."

The pilot spoke with a somewhat acceptant tone. Unsure of the travels ahead. Expected. But not thoroughly planned. No other choice but to find themselves rapidly approaching the top of the mountains. Lost, yet, not exactly misdirected. The pilot felt... Alienated. Piloting their machinery without much word to be spoken. Closing the gap closer and closer. No time to feel entranced by the mountains and their seemingly eye-catching sights. The pilot had an objective. Their speed incremented slightly. Rapidly passing through the dirt road. No option but to go forward. Taking notice of the now, fading sunset light.

Pilot:"Lights out soon, eh?"

They took this with a grain of salt. Deep into their commute. They won't be dismayed easily. Even on a quite unfamiliar ambiance. On a place far from what they know to be theirs. An outsider. Through and through. Wary. But confident on their capabilities. Chosen for this reason. They embraced the unfamiliarity. As the sun went down. Only the artificial lights of their machinery could help them on their journey. Still. The moon dimly lit the path onto their destination.

Pilot:"It's... Different out here. Life outside... The outside world... Is different."

They remained focused. Yet, never purging the thought of their mind. The green and primal state of a place as lonesome as this... Was only things one could read in literature. Those that strive too far. Get lost. Lost as them. But what can they do? It's their duty. Perhaps, there might be more under surface level, may this strange journey tell.

(Deep mountain)

(8: XX p.m.)