He was standing in line with the others. As dry as thick skin, he breathed jerkily, gasping softly with each touch of the ribs of his lung. He had been locked up in this place for he-didn't-remember-when. He had forgotten the beauty of things, the smell of flowers, the glades of yester-year, with the beautiful silence of autumn days.
Someone had informed them that they would be leaving at the first light of the morning. No one knew where, why, or if they would get better. He didn't expect anything good anyway because everything had gone wrong for him so far. And they started. They walked in a certain cadence, like soldiers, pressed, with the rays of the sun beating murderously in their flasks. After a while they stopped. Embarrassed, they sank into the thick stump, which caressed their wet palms, making them feel good. It had something of the royal consistency of silk, although it was just a mere layer of dust. They were at the edge of a forest. Some of them were ordered to go and fulfill all their needs. The vigilance of the guards had weakened considerably, but they were, of course, relying on the total lack of means in the event of an escape. And then everyone knew it well, the forest devoured its uninvited guests... He could be seen from somewhere above, running without looking back. He had fled at the first opportunity, and now he was looking to get away from the convoy by any means, as quickly as possible. He fell and rose, feeling the cold breath of fear behind him. The jab that had penetrated him brought him back, arched his spine and made him tremble at the thought of giving in to it. He had to stay healthy, learn freedom, make a living in the big world. That evening, Destrian arrived in a strange city. Its streets were blue and cold. There were no trees, no leaves, nothing to indicate the presence of people. Only occasionally, a dull and piercing whine that came out of nowhere and drove him crazy. He took the main road, hurrying through this dead city, fearing more than desiring his meeting with other people. The crunch of his footsteps on the dust of the street was hardwired into his brain, as was that persistent hissing that haunted him. He walked briskly and didn't even look back. If he had done that, he would have been safer. For behind him, at a great distance, a gigantic column could be seen coming, like a relentless whirlwind, swallowing up everything in its path. Unfortunately for the poor traveler, chaos came quietly, whispering its wrath, mingling with the rustle of the road and the scent of the forbidden dawn. And still walking like that, he saw a box, placed exactly in the middle of the road. Curious, dawn towards her. He could tell this was the source of the whirring and touched it. On the silver cover, a little eroded by dust, wind and relentless rains, a reddish LED flickered. Then he understood that something tragic was about to happen. He looked back and became nothing. At that exact moment, the tornado swept over him, lifting him off the ground, swallowing him up. He took it into the night.
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