New World Order Re-Written (TNE)

Prologue - The Final Walk

8:00, 8:01, 8:02. The alarm clock was beeping profusely. Like a squirrel using a chainsaw the alarm clock wanted Martin's attention as fast as possible. Martin did not want to wake up though, he was having a marvellous time staying in his dream. In his dream martin was calm and relaxed watching the waves slowly drift by a float on the land that existed much deeper down under the water. Sand cemented the waves to flow back and forth indefinitely. The dream was slowly fading away and Martin was forced to return to the stresses and anxiety that he faced daily in reality. His big french test was today and he had to be ready or there was no chance for him, he had promised himself to do an all nighter last night since he hadn't studied previously. Then Martin decided to procrastinate that as well and eventually just fell asleep for the night.

8:03, 8:04, 8:05. Martin's french teacher had been having trouble not only teaching the class, but also herself the language. She was fluent in Italian, german, Portuguese, english; just somehow not french the actual language she was hired for. Every teacher had to have two teachers they were able to teach and she chose woodshop and French. Martin had heard from his classmates that she was one of the best woodshop teachers in the building, but in terms of french she was a lost cause. Her name was Ms. Yamaha and her favourite moment of french class always seemed to be watching videos on her phone in the back of the room, yet ironically she managed to still be quite a harsh marker. Martin often wondered how somebody so focused on being lazy could give such stupendous punishments for any students with the same mindset. This thought was striking Martin as most strange as his alarm continued counting upwards.

8:06, 8:07, 8:08. There was a girl at school named Marissa who had marvellous brown hair that seemed to be made for braiding and ponytails. She was shy, but Martin always beat himself up for not talking to her enough during school. The few times he tried he was either intentionally ignored by her or told to stop talking by the teacher of whatever class they had at that time. Marissa didn't appear mean spirited per say but she always did seem to keep to herself. Just recently he had asked her for help with a question and instead of responding to him verbally, Marissa had decided to simply give him her entire binder. Martin was immediately taken back and tried to give her it back, but she had already walked to her next class. Today—Martin had decided—would be the day that he returned her binder and used her notes to deliver a presentation to Ms. Yamaha that she would have to boost his mark for. That is, if he was to wake up in time for school at all.

8:09, 8:10 8—Martin leaped out of bed and down the stairs of his house. His parents had told him the day before that they'd be out early that day learning ballroom dancing; he had the whole house to himself for the morning. Quickly, he slammed the cereal cabinet open and poured out a tub of his favourite brand "Honey Fish flakes", they were made to reference the world-wide phenomenon and premiere superhero Fishboy. Martin considered Fishboy to be his hero personally. On posters all across the city Fishboy could be seen saving people and businesses from imposing figures with guns and stolen goods, using nothing but his two fists. The cereal itself tasted like cardboard covered in molasses, yet the mere thought of the cereal being approved by Fishboy made Martin feel inclined to keep eating it.

Martin wore his favourite blue raincoat and slid out the door, down each step as if they were connected as a ramp. Blue jays flew by him as he ran through the streets in an attempt to catch the morning bus. His transit route had to change many times the past few weeks as continuous expansion was made to routes. Every time a route needed to be extended or improved it also meant that it would be shut down for months to years. Walking to school was simply not an option and biking to school wasn't something Martin had even considered. Martin double checked his backpack to make sure he had both his own and Marissa's binder with him. He did.

He tossed a random amount of spare change into the fare booth to the displeasure of the inspector. The bus was crammed with people of all walks of life. There were architects, construction workers, fishermen/women, bakers and even teachers. Martin spotted Ms. Yamaha on the bus and tried to look away as politely as possible. Martin repeatedly uttered the phrase "excuse me" even though it had already lost all meaning and tried to fit in-between people to get to the back of the line. In the back of the bus was a newspaper, with an interesting headline. Martin didn't instantly want to pick up the newspaper, notably since it smelled quite bad from sitting in the seat. As soon as he started reading though, he was sucked into the most recent story.