Gale's eyes opened to the skyline of the City. Never did it cease to inspire, never did it cease to amaze. Even though he'd seen it all before, that very same day even, it's like it was being seen anew again. The City seemed to glisten today. It always did but today it was like it really shone, layers of settled dust had been blasted away. The boulevards, causeways and skywalks, at least those that remained, had been wiped near clean of debris.
But the aftershock had clearly hit the City as well. He noticed the skyline had changed: Spires had fallen; a district had collapsed far away from here; and fresh new crevices had formed down the twisting boulevards.
What glorious ruin...
Today wasn't a day to explore though. Today was a time to work towards his mission. His mind wandered over several theories. Many of them were already fruitless, and some, less so...
He needed something further reaching than a radio, convincing people was one thing, proving it was the hard part...
Gale walked as far into the room as he could, his mind continued to wonder. He took one last look around it, he looked for a hint. Something, anything. There was no such thing as coincidence.
He thought back over the day before. Somehow, almost without meaning to, he found himself downstairs again. He stared at the empty doorways, his mind trying to unravel its secrets in its silence. His eyes lingered on the two shattered doorways. The dividing wall between the two had been destroyed. Cracks larger than his fist had ripped into the walls. He felt around its internals, there was nothing to give away what it really was. It was maddening.
Gale looked back into the doorway that he saw the woman in. There was no sign anything had changed there. The burning fog rippled far brighter than before and blew in an invisible wind.
He just stared at the doorway. Its silent song spilled an eternity of myths and fuelled more ideas across his mind. It gave life to an almost tranquil grace, triggering a never ending desire to step inside it. He looked down, one foot had already stepped towards it. He had to focus, he had to think hard. He focused on a small pebble near his feet.
He admired its edges, as the neverending fire tried to pull him in.
It took every thought to repel it.
He drove his backfoot forward. His armoured boot sent the stone into the doorway, taking the unknown will with it. He watched as it passed effortlessly into that world, hanging in the air for moments just beyond the aperture. Its surfaces instantly froze. Its colours bcame muted. Dust blew from its surface, like the fire's same wind blew over it...
Or like something was shredding it...
It hazed over, as if having passed through another aperture on the other side. He watched it skip across the ground. It stood out too well. It didn't belong.
And then Gale had the idea...
His mind drifted across the room. He'd never noticed but its roof high above spelled it out plain and simple. It didn't confirm his thought, but it gave it the chance he wanted.
But it spelled out something many times more terrifying...
He ran. Gale just ran, he nimbly navigated the corridors, running from something, a monster almost. Like everything had become a monster. The sense of unease finally reached boiling point.
Something was very wrong with this place, and had been every moment he was in that spire. He had reached the atrium. The crystal spires of the City sang a song he could not hear. He was desperate for them, he moved as deep into the atrium as he could. Now would be his moment.
The wanderer braced with all his might, in one moment his body coiled up like a spring and when he felt he couldn't hold it any more, he exploded forward like a bullet from a gun.
He ran. He ran hard, and he ran fast. Setting a pace he had not reached in years. He felt flashes of memories coming back to him. Yet he pushed the sounds of thunder and the sickening screams from his mind. He placed his hand on the crystal at his hip, donning his gauntlets as he did so. He could see the ShardShip launch below him. It dove into the air, banking around a nearby spire to come towards him.
He leapt onto the edge of the broken skyway, and leapt further into nothing. He kicked his legs out, falling with his arms behind him, his boots primed, braced for landing at any moment.
With planned precision he landed hard on the Shardship's wing. The force knocked the craft into a barrel roll, not that it mattered. Gale stood up against the forces on his body. The world spun around him, giving him nothing more than a headache. He walked confidently towards the open canopy, taking his place at the helm once more. At that point he calmed. He gazed over the City. Its song sang in his head once more.
He was coming home.
His true home.
The ship's crystal in his hand, he guided the vessel between spires, darting over causeways and threading the needle through aqueducts. Eventually the constant changing course grew tiresome, Gale punched his fist into the air, causing the craft to pull sharply upwards, near instantly in fact. It took little more than a few seconds for the Shardship to pass the highest spires around him, the beacon spire sat definitely on the horizon at this point.
The spires rapidly began to thin out, forming large flat areas of polished stone that reflected the sky itself. Gale pulled the shardship close to the surface once more, its mirrored twin banked and rolled as it did. A few moments later they blasted over the edge of the mirrored stone, casting themselves over the ocean once again like a greyhound out of a truck. They had met the course set nights ago...
The ShardShip skimmed the surface of the ocean once more, its Jetstream glazed the water's surface with white foam, as the City's heart fell away far behind him. Its distant crown ever present on the horizon, rising high and setting itself apart from the rest of the City's Spires, it eclipsed the dawning sun, each one glistened like diamonds. The ocean was clear beneath him, dying itself a light blue at only its deepest fathoms, even then the glass ocean bed shone its rays of light throughout its depths. Gale took in none of this though, instead focusing on the island ahead of him.
It was one of the few plants that grew in the City, it was less of an island more of a colossal tree, it grew out of the ocean's deepest point, rising up high, its roots arched up and penetrated the water's surface like a great willow, the trunk of the tree was as thick as the pinnacles of any spire, it rose up to the height as well. Despite the decayed land around it, the tree in its entirety was truly healthy, its branches were bare of leaves, however tipped with small black marble ovoids. its roots were covered in thick blankets of metal moss, each and every surface was engraved with tapestries of many a bygone age. This tree had always held reverence.
The ShardShip took a minute to circle it, coming down into a far more gentle descent compared to its last outing. The crystalline vessel touched down on a clear, worked patch of flat wood, hewn from the flesh of the tree itself.
Like all loners Gale had built himself a small paradise, the ShardShip turned dormant once more, with its pilot leaping from its cockpit it seemed to take a breath of air as he did. The man walked steadily over the weaving roots, hoping between gaps between them up to a small stone structure resembling an ancient watchtower mixed with an archaic temple. He let out that same breath. The air was cool.
Whilst the site had once been a shrine, Gale had claimed it as a respite from endlessly walking the ruins of his once great City, headquarters almost for his expeditions into the abyss. As he stood at the base of the World Tree once more he felt in his heart his mission was once again making progress.
Although at that moment he could hear the distant ring of a bell far far away.
Gale stepped through the door less threshold, like always he checked over his surroundings. Despite the city being vacant of life aside from him, until now anyway, he still checked it over. With a smile that it was all right he rested both his hands on his opposite shoulders, signalling to the FlightSuit to disengage.
The panels clicked outwards, circling around his torso and limbs until they all stacked neatly behind his body, like a shadow of himself cast upon the air itself. The suit's base layer deformed around him, withdrawing under the plates like it was being sucked into them. Gale stepped away from the deactivated flight suit, running his hand over the creases of his olive green shirt underneath. He tucked its base into his camouflage trousers as he stepped off into his domain. He ran his hands down the stone wall, its cracked surface faded into its carved facade of white brickwork, the seams between them were set with ebony black crystal.
His trinkets were all covered in some kind of decay, much like his own flat. He walked to the centre of the shrine, placing his hand upon the floor. He focused hard again, he could hear the faint clinking of crystal as each of his possessions repaired themselves, at least to an extent. He gazed over each one. The best times of his life were held in this room. He was happy, truly he was home.
Yet he felt the nightmare of the real world tug on his mind, with almost sadness he couldn't fight it. He wanted desperately to hold on, to stay where he truly loved. Almost the cruelty of life to take him from that world as he got home.
But take him, it did.
Gale began to wake.
He awoke once again to the world he hated. He closed his fists like he wanted to rip it all apart. His eyes sealed shut like he didn't want to believe it. He tried desperately to flush it away, to keep the grip on his City.
He shed a tear as his eyes opened. The City was gone, his dreams faded too nothing but a memory.
Like so many things to become just a memory.
He rose from his bed, groping desperately for his packet of cigarettes. He felt his head in a haze. Almost lovingly he lit it, puffing away peacefully like a content steam train as some of the haze faded.
He reached for his dirtied glass and drank, and the rest of his haze faded.
It was only then Gale remembered his name, it was only then that he remembered where he was, yet he could never remember his own face.
He climbed to his feet, wobbling slightly as he did so. He carefully shuffled his way to his radio room. Even with pangs of hunger he wrote his notes faithfully. A routine that could never be broken. He scanned the radio waves patiently.
Still there was nothing, the world was silent...
But deaf people often were...
He laid his pen down carefully, as if it were glass. Shortly after he shuffled out the room once more, whiskey and cigarette still in hand, he began the difficult mission of getting to his kitchen without falling over
"Why the hell did that silly child get me pancakes?" He grumbled as he searched his cupboards. Things clattered as he went, some pounding as they fell out. Gale just swung the door shut and grumbled, his voice turning to a low growl. "Why not porridge. I like porridge... Or a brick?"
The buzz of the real world was already digging in at him.
Gale tore the pack of pancakes from the cupboard, he looked at them with fury so hot he could toast them. He blinked and once more in a fit of rage his mind had enacted is righteous victory.
With a dull thud they landed on the black Mercedes parked below, and with a much louder thud the window slammed shut again. That was plenty enough outside for one day.
Stubbing his cigarette out on his worktop he reached to the top of the cupboard, pulling down a packet of very old cereal. He nearly pulled the drawer off as he opened it, its contents clattered painfully. The noises just got louder each time.
With well trained hands he picked up a knife. He twirled it in his fingers like he was at a show. In a single swipe the cereal box's top came off, and in a continuing motion the knife was back in its exact place once more. Gale's frown deepened briefly. It didn't look right.
He turned the blade over so its edge faced away from him, and with a brief smirk he contently slammed the drawer back shut. Not long later he had everything he required. Discarded pieces of cereal scattered the worktop, its box discarded carelessly to one side.
Gale broke convention, pouring nothing but whiskey on his breakfast. His mind desperately tried to drown out the sounds of the world around him, but thankfully he didn't have to, his mind was distracted by a pounding on his front door. He just carried on, praying they'd leave him alone.
They kept on...
knock knock.
Gale hoped it was a delivery man, he desperately hoped the invader would leave his kingdom be...
They didn't.
"Why in the name of hell do people insist on visiting?" He growled, working through his breakfast, he stomped his way to the door. He very nearly shut it back in their face before hello's were even said.
"Hey dad." Alban said, wincing as he caught the door. "Put some shoes on."
"You come here and insist on things like that? Who do you think you are?" Gale growled at him aggressively. Alban didn't back down.
"I'm your son, you haven't been out in weeks, and Corona is going to meet us in the park." Gale groaned as soon as he started talking. Earning a sarcastic smile from his son. "Don't be a child."
Gale's face contorted into one of anger, anyone else would think he was going to enter a full rage.
"Don't. Bait. Me. Alban." He sneered, punctuating every single word with a threatening gesture from his shaking spoon. He turned away, leaving his son at the door.
"For Mum." His son insisted. He saw his father stop in his tracks. "I'm not asking you to go for a run, just sit on a bench in the park with me."
"What do you mean?"
"Anyone else." His words had cut into Alban very deep.
"Well, like I said, Corona wants to see you as well." His father growled once more. Alban thought he wasn't going to come as he disappeared into the living room, only to come back with his old leather jacket slung over his shoulders. He looked younger with it on, despite its evident neglect and worn look. It finished his dads look perfectly. "Change your shirt."
"Stick it up your ass." He grunted. He vanished into the kitchen.
"God damnit Dad, what is it now!" Alban snapped, being careful not to shout too loud. He didn't want to wake the neighbours by another one of his dad's temper tantrums.
"Can I atleast bring my breakfast? Or is that not allowed?" Gale snarked as he emerged from the room with his bowl, he was still shoveling the contents down, flicking his shoulders and pulling his sleeves between spoonfuls. Alban just turned his nose up at it on sight.
"What on earth is it?" He asked. He tried to figure it out. Then he remembered who he was asking.
"Famous Grouse and Bran Flakes." They said together, in unison. Alban snatched the bowl, quickly. Thankfully, Gale was too distracted by his now ill fitting jacket to stop him.
"How about no." Alban said quite pointedly, he loved the moment of rebellion, although he knew he'd get it later.
Gale set the door's deadbolt shortly before slamming it shut even more enraged than before. He didn't wait for his son as he stomped down the stairs out to the outer world. "Not for long."
"Just a quick trip to the park dad, Dad. Not to worry though, I've got food in my car if you're still hungry..." He said, throwing the bowl into the communal bins, he held the door open for his old man, watching him flinch and hiss at the sunlight. He just waited for his opportune moment...
"...It's your bloody pancakes."