REQUIEM - PROLOGUE

…Do I still remember?

Quintos thought, lying in the middle of a field.

He looked up towards the sky.

There was no sky…

But that didn’t matter to him - it never did. “Mathematically speaking, the sky's not even the limit!” he remembered, someone once told him that.

See, I still remember.

The Victor V, once the locomotive that was his pride, now the burning wreckage of what an age long gone once considered innovation, lay behind him on a hill. There was fire all over the place, but he couldn’t care less. Because he was laying on a field, and that was fine.
It’s always fine.

Yeah, this is fine.

Quintos was still staring at what once was the sky - a blissful reverie, as he continued trying to see if he could remember.

…About myself…

He was by birth an Ogreant from Formicia, and his family was one of the most distinguished of that republic. For ages, his ancestors had been counsellors and syndics, and his father made a distinguished name for himself as Minister of Transportation for the League of Planets. Under his ministry, revolutionary developments to transportation were made, and the universe was forever changed when he introduced the P-L System to space locomotives, known to many as “the next best thing to those ‘scopejets’”. Though Quintos himself would argue that they were better - has the capability to travel further than a football field, he’d say. Now though, his father had retired from that tiring job, and was station master of the Metrozoa II Grand Central Station. Station.

Quintos took a quick look at the wreck of the Victor V. He knew what was happening. He just didn’t want to think about it. He was, after all, its final conductor. He remembered what it was. He remembered what he was. He remembered what they were doing there, he thinks.


So what is it that I have forgotten…?


…Who?




How did I even get here…?


TO BE CONTINUED...