Chapter Text
Chapter 1:
Grace
Ryland Grace was Bored, Bored with a capital B, school was out for the week, Erid had a celebration going on so the pebbles were off from school. He always missed them, he couldn’t help it, it was his passion and calling, he had finished grading the tablets of the most recent pop quiz he had assigned. He dusted the little trinkets he had amassed over the various classes he’s taught, one student even attempted to fashion him an apple out of clay, it was even slightly reddish due to the natural tint of the clay. They brought him endless delight and the biggest smiles.
Stretching in his seat, he decided to look at the drive of endless knowledge he was sent to Tau Ceti with, he was sure that he may have something in there that he hadn’t yet perused. He even looked at patents that for sure would never have worked.
Bingo.
A .PDF of a graphic novel looked promising, seemed to be a comic of an elderly couple trying to survive in nuclear fallout. Kind of grim but he was curious, why not? May as well read something he hadn’t before.
It was bleak, quite bleak, the couple seemed to succumb to sickness and tucked themselves in paper sacks to protect themselves from whatever may come. He sat up to stretch his legs, grabbing his cane to steady himself before heading back to the place he’s called Home for many years now, black spots danced before his eyes.
“Oh fudge..”
Jon
Jonathan Sims was, is, well, he’s not sure, hungry? Hungry. He reorganized his desk, new pens in their proper place, one rib, lined up nicely among them, and the jar of ashes sat undisturbed. Drumming his fingers on his desk he weighed his options, not that he had many, he was waiting for his tea to cool. Not quite tasting the same since he woke up, he would not think about Him, He didn’t want to be found. Jon swallowed the lump that threatened to form in his throat.
He received earlier a big pile of Statements and various things that had piled up since his coma and he had to sift through them. It was, a lot, to say the least. Some fake statements some somewhat palatable real Statements, left his mouth less dry. Then there was a book sitting in the middle, Jon flipped through it, it was a graphic novel, one that seemed aimed at Teens and up. He shrugged, it looked innocent enough, he was tired, maybe looking through something easy to read will help reset his overworked brain.
A couple of hours passed and he rubbed his eyes, he felt a little tired, maybe he could use a little kip on the cot in his office. He stood up to move over and felt faint, his vision blurry, he dropped the book, unbeknownst to him a faded nameplate fell onto the floor.
Property of one Jurgen Leitner.
“Fu-“ Jonathan Sims collapsed as the darkness took him.