Asunder

A crime.
There stops the Waltzer, a gleaming smile on his face.
A hero. A dauntless hero.
He walks slowly against the silver-tiled wall, touching the glass screen with his forefinger and slowly watching the new image rising. He takes a while, delighted with the scene.

And then, he breaks the glass with a punch and steps through the new door.

The new room is very clear, a strange steep floor with blossoming natural life all around it in the middle of a bright computer site. The Waltzer hiked along the steep pass, firmly. He reached the crown in his head with his forefinger; gloom arrived.

Another cold winter morning. Another steep corridor.
'Here comes the sun. Hold yourselves, warriors'.



Thus came morning.

(First End)