Catalog
93 Chapters
The Beginning
   An ancient and deserted cottage emerged from numerous thick clusters of some gigantic, wild trees in the corner of a city. It had been given up almost hundred years ago and it had some rumours for its look, as no one was living there. But the most strange thing was, there was a very significant, annihilating machine concealed by some people. No one knew about that except the subduers of this planet, apparently. And except him. He removed his jet-pack and walked briskly to the mouldy cottage. He was secretly very nervous, although he tried to look simple-hearted. Nobody paid attention at him that much and they kept working, walking or doing their own things. Suddenly, a kid riding a flying bycycle almost hit at his back, then quickly landed beside him. "Hey, I'm so sorry!" the kid balanced the cycle and glanced at him. "I'm not very good at this, but I keep practising, don't I? Sometimes it's very difficult t
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The Ban
 I lay behind my back, before the boat, and into darkness I must row. I rowed with weak arms, watching my hands to make sure I kept hold of the oars, for I could not feel my grip. I came thus into rough water and the dark, out on the open Gulf. There I had to stop. With each oarstroke the numbness of my arms increased. My heart kept bad time, and my lungs had forgotten how to get air. I tried to row but I was not sure my arms were moving. I tried to pull the oars into the boat then, but could not. When the sweet light of a harbour patrol ship picked me out of the night like a snowflake on soot, I could not even turn my eyes away from the glare.    They unclenched my hands from the oars, hauled me up out of the boat, and laid me out like a gutted blackfish on the deck of the patrol ship. I felt them look down at me but could not well understand what they said, except for one, the ship’s master by his tone;
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So close
 It's almost midnight.   I quietly climb up the stairs to the rooftop. There is a little garden of flowers, now they are starting blossoming. I inhale deeply the sweet scent of them, crossing my arms across my chest. The air is cold but refreshing, it starts to calm my mind and I slowly stare up at the sky.    It was my father who first taught me about the stars and constellation. I used to climb up a banyan tree beside our house, then jump at the roof. Dad also used to say that it was dangerous for me to go to the roof at night, but when I capriced to him to teach me the names of stars, he couldn't deny me. It's a moonless night, yeah, there is my favorite star, Rigil Kentaurus. I sigh again, watching the large constellation Ursa Major. Why am I sighing? Shouldn't I be happy tonight? Is something bothering me?"Watching stars?" a male voice says behind me, his footsteps approaching. "Tonight it has a nice view, I see."
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An Unknown City
Another point of view. "Open cell forty," the officer shouts at the walkie-talkie and with a disgusting sound, the cell bars-door is opened.Mahone steps in the cell"Close cell forty," behind him, the fat officer shouts again and the door of this tiny, sultry cell is closed again. Mahone puts the white clothes in the edge of the lower bed, then glances at the man lying on the upper bed. The man is less older than fifty, not so big in his body, but he can't see his face, because his back is turned to himDear new cellmate, Mahone utters silently, then drops himself on the single bed. Who knows what kind of criminal you are. A psychopath? Child abuser? Sex defender? A murderer? Or maybe, if God helps, a drug dealer? He sighs and puts an arm below of his head, shutting his eyes"Why aren't you in juvenile prison?" a deep, gentle voice comes from the upper bedMahone lifts himself up, "Who are you?He hears a chuckle in rep
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Confusion
 Somebody is brushing hairs from his forehead. Then nudging his shoulder. "Cedron, wake up," a voice tells softly.A female voice. He is feeling confused. There's no female person in their home. Then who is it?He tries to open my eyes, but can't, because sunlight is hitting me. Who the hell opened the damn curtains of the damn window?He raises his hands to cover my eyes, but something is in them. Something muddy.Wait...I'm not in home, am I?"Cedron," that voice tells again. I snap my eyes open.A sharp face welcomes me.I adjust myself in a seated position, glancing around. Who is this girl?Shit! He squints at the sunlight, not feeling as panicked as others should be. "Who are you?" He looks at her blue eyes. That was a wrong question. He should have asked, "Where am I?""I can ask you the same question," she replies cooly.&nb
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New York
   I lay behind my back, before the boat, and into darkness I must row. I rowed with weak arms, watching my hands to make sure I kept hold of the oars, for I could not feel my grip. I came thus into rough water and the dark, out on the open Gulf. There I had to stop. With each oarstroke the numbness of my arms increased. My heart kept bad time, and my lungs had forgotten how to get air. I tried to row but I was not sure my arms were moving. I tried to pull the oars into the boat then, but could not. When the sweet light of a harbour patrol ship picked me out of the night like a snowflake on soot, I could not even turn my eyes away from the glare.             They unclenched my hands from the oars, hauled me up out of the boat, and laid me out like a gutted blackfish on t
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Mountains
Somebody is brushing hairs from his forehead. Then nudging his shoulder.    "Cedron, wake up," a voice tells softly.   A female voice.    He is feeling confused. There's no female person in their home. Then who is it?   He tries to open my eyes, but can't, because sunlight is hitting me. Who the hell opened the damn curtains of the damn window?   He raises his hands to cover my eyes, but something is in them. Something muddy.   Wait...I'm not in home, am I?   "Cedron," that voice tells again.    I snap my eyes open.   A sharp face welcomes me.   I adjust myself in a seated position, glancing around. Who is this girl?   Shit!    He squints at the s
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Hidden
  She was grubbing for vegetables in a dead man's garden when she heard the singing. Arya stiffened, still as stone, listening, the three stringy carrots in her hand suddenly forgotten. She thought of the Bloody Mummers and Roose Bolton's men, and a shiver of fear went down her back. It's not fair, not when we finally found the Trident, not when we thought we were almost safe. Only why would the Mummers be singing? The song came drifting up the river from somewhere beyond the little rise to the east. "Off to Gulltown to see the fair maid, heigh-ho, heigh-ho . . . "  Arya rose, carrots dangling from her hand. It sounded like the singer was coming up the river road. Over among the cabbages, Hot Pie had heard it too, to judge by the look on his face. Gendry had gone to sleep in the shade of the burned cottage, and was past hearing anything. "I'
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Done Job
   It's almost midnight.    I quietly climb up the stairs to the rooftop. There is a little garden of flowers, now they are starting blossoming. I inhale deeply the sweet scent of them, crossing my arms across my chest. The air is cold but refreshing, it starts to calm my mind and I slowly stare up at the sky.     It was my father who first taught me about the stars and constellation. I used to climb up a banyan tree beside our house, then jump at the roof. Dad also used to say that it was dangerous for me to go to the roof at night, but when I capriced to him to teach me the names of stars, he couldn't deny me. It's a moonless night, yeah, there is my favorite star, Rigil Kentaurus. I sigh again, watching the large constellation Ursa Major. Why am I sighing? Shouldn't I be happy tonight? Is something bothering me? "Watching stars?" a male voice says behind me, h
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Isolation
   I lay behind my back, before the boat, and into darkness I must row. I rowed with weak arms, watching my hands to make sure I kept hold of the oars, for I could not feel my grip. I came thus into rough water and the dark, out on the open Gulf. There I had to stop. With each oarstroke the numbness of my arms increased. My heart kept bad time, and my lungs had forgotten how to get air. I tried to row but I was not sure my arms were moving. I tried to pull the oars into the boat then, but could not. When the sweet light of a harbour patrol ship picked me out of the night like a snowflake on soot, I could not even turn my eyes away from the glare.             They unclenched my hands from the oars, hauled me up out of the boat, and laid me out like a gutted blackfish on t
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