There wasn't supposed to be anything extraordinary about the maiden flight of the Tycho
. It may have been a prototype vessel with revolutionary engines based on incredibly complex mathematical equations, but the vessel itself was supposed to be more important than its trial runs. Wave function collapse engines, Methane Hydrate fuel. The most advanced technological creation in the Western Hemisphere and ever made by a ship designer, much less an orcish one, was truly a vessel ahead of its time. Something that could act as a beacon of hope in a world on the evening of its darkest night.
But unfortunately, the voyage was to become more important than the vessel itself.
Matuk awoke with a sudden flash of life and realization. His body ached, feeling as if it'd been running for an afternoon while being stretched and tussled around. That, complimented by a fuzzy memory and the distant smell of burning, and Matuk was certainly in for one of the worst moods he'd had in ages. Not even during those 72-hour workshop marathons of designing what was to power the
Tycho, not even from when he'd been ridiculed in front of the entire Ministry of Research board over his idea. The feeling of having been near-death, or perhaps even dead, had that effect.
But as he groaned onto his feet from lying flat on the ground, the realization came to him that he wasn't where he'd remembered being not too long ago. There was grass underneath his scorched boots, and the air smelled somewhat of the ocean: this was a far cry from what the muddled images in his head told him. This was a forest of some sort, not unlike those of Eastern nations back from Yasuda (*was* this really still Yasuda? Where was this place?).
Gripped by a newfound search for answers, and with no distinctive clues around him was to what had just happened, a scorch-marked Matuk began to walk forwards. He gradually made his way through the light clearing and made his way onto 42'nd Subabsurdus Street, and the sights in Matuk's eyes bolted them wider with the surprise of a battering ram. Cars that looked years ahead of those that he remembered, humans walking the streets as if it was a scene from an Eastern film. He needed to find out where he was, discover exactly where he'd ended up. His mind was now picking up the pace, and attempting to process prior events and what was going on in the current.
Surely he could enter
that building over yonder: a decent-sized building which looked somewhat like an apartment building of sorts. If this was anything like the Eastern countries, perhaps there was a doorman who could inform him of exactly where he'd ended up. So Matuk approached the door, didn't immediately notice the sound of automatic weapons fire and fighting, and opened it up. Needless to say, the sights inside made the culture shock of a few moments ago seem like a boring day with one's grandparents. Strange scaled creatures were attacking one another with claws and weapons that were stripped from a sci-fi story; a strange robotic girl
thing was in a corner of the lobby (assuming that it was an apartment building).
This was not normal. None of this was normal. "GAH!", escaped from Matuk's mouth as he stumbled backwards from the door to the lobby with shock. He promptly stumbled for a few miliseconds before falling onto his rear, the door to the lobby hanging open and his mind dazed from the surreal situation.