Chapter Text
shhhh… fwshhh…
Abruptly, the floor tilts. Then, a moment after, the furniture starts to slide.
A figure is on a chair, stilled, as more items pile to the lowest part of the slanted floor, and, as the volume of the creaking noise heightens.
A few moments after, the movement is finished.
Nothing moves. No sound, except for the whistling wind and waves.
A lone eye peers out
of a darkened metal box
darkness to darkness.
Ah. This is different. How… interesting.
A dark shoe emerges, then, the rest. Quietly, the figure steps out of the storage container and navigates through the looming maze of trash.
Until, the lucky tunnel narrows, and the paces halt. A wall of trash, no way out except backwards.
How annoying. While the time waiting to die from low oxygen would not be painful, being potentially crushed to death by trash would be. And, there’s no guarantee how long it would take, anyways.
A pair of bandaged hands carefully pries out a dented pole of some sort. Then, the pole dislodges some trash in front, then, dislodges some above.
Again.
Again.
Again.
And again, slowly moving upwards.
.
.
.
The pole reaches fresh air. The once deathly silent air raises to chatters at a level of background noise. A head pops out, eye squinting. It had not been night, but bright day time. Or had it been night, and the time to dig out of the dump was as long as the night, resulting in night changing to day?
Ah. Speaking of day. Or, rather, thinking of day. It was a day to meet up with Mori-san.
The head turns slowly, dead gaze observing the surrounding area.
Trash, sun, sand, waves, people. Uh, strange looking people. Unfamiliar architecture style.
Huh, it seems as if some ability user dared to approach the shipping container, and then it was magically transported to another location—
Oh.