Chapter Text
Outeria was always such a beautiful planet, the countless mountains cut behind rivers of shimmering waters; stretched behind hills of apple-grass and civilisations living in perfect harmony. Countless inventions, some still in progress, some still in the thought process. Ever growing, thriving above all other planets. The scenery complemented by sweet fruit trees, growing herbs, animals and Outerian children dashing around the flower-riddled fields. I remember sitting by the dimly-lit fire eating Atardai; which is an organically grown plant on our planet; watching the news on channel Yshha (6). It would usually be about a metor shower, or maybe a new alliance with another planetary government. Either way, I would be happy. We had palaces for The Urdonia, (our planets government) who would be dealing with problems and holes in our leadership departments. Until, they came. It was a Tuesday (in earth days or years; I haven't mastered Earth times yet) when the Sotonians came, the year 1 billion BC. They ravaged; they killed. They destroyed our dear planet, they set fire to the buildings; they slaughtered the children. The only things that remained were the grass and the animals; the childrens mothers, and those fortunate enough to flee. I, was one of those. I ran, and ran, and ran. I sprinted as fast as my feet could carry me, to the point where my legs were ready to give out. Then; I got to the Mazovins. Our 'spaceships' or 'time machines'. They can travel through time and space, if course; they have the ability to blend into surroundings. The Mazovins were lined up in a row. As if they were just waiting to be used. They wouldn't mind if I borrowed one, right? No. I need it to escape. To escape the treachery, the sadness; the pointless slaughter of our people. What was once a grand civilisation, is now embering with red, orange and yellow flames. Dancing onto the trees, swimming from surface to surface; until almost nothing will remain.
I will take one. I have my license to drive one. I was meant to pick mine up today; I ran my fingers over them, the iron's residue forming on my hands, hastily glancing at every number as I pass by. 789, 790, 791. 792! This was the I one I was meant to collect. The keys, hidden in a secret compartment? I tapped around trying to find the lever, then when I found it I pulled. A exhaling sound seeped out of the opening compartment, to show a square box; lined with iron and calcite. Some even steal. There were bottles of arsenic and mercury; filled to the brim. Just what was the dark origins of my dying species? The key. The key! I quickly grabbed it, and opened the Mazovin.