A/N: Quick note: This is maybe 1/3 of the actual chapter. Posting this because 1. I need some people to see if this even looks interesting. 2. I need

encouragement to get writing, now that I might have time. And 3. I promised a friend I'd get a story up. This is not that story, but at least it's something.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Ashe's Edge: Prologue: A Wrinkle in Time

Present:

A lone figure stood at the iron gates of Kadic High, a faded-green trench-coat covered with dust and pale-red splotches one could only hope were ketchup stains.

Probably not.

In one hand he held a small glass chip, no bigger than a pebble. In the other, he held onto the gate's bars. He looked in, with what one could only presume to be either deep longing or deep concern. His eyes were captured by the six students sitting or standing around a small green bench. While this may seem strange, the children were fairly abnormal themselves. One with a strange obsession over purple and his illegally kept dog; two others being masters at martial arts; another two being what one would assume as computer nerds if not for their relative social life; and the final being a slightly disregarded but important nonetheless standalone fellow, although he did seem quite solemn about… something.

The man however wasn't interested in the kids alone; he was starring at the school, at everything, like it was something out of a dream… or a memory.

He shook his head, clearing himself of all thoughts. He needed to remain focused, to enact what he came here to do. He couldn't screw up, not again. So with one last attentive glance at the school, he merged into the shadows of the forest. He cut through them, leaping over fallen logs, ducking under branches, occasionally even swinging on a vine to cross a seemingly small gap that turned out to be meters deep. He kept to the shadows incredibly skillfully, and if sawn, might even be passed off as a trick of the light, or a fickle imagination. It'd be more reasonable to pass off an elephant in your house, by the man's train-of-thought. He didn't do anything special, only what kept him alive all these nonexistent years. Yup, nonexistent. It would drive him mad some nights when he thought about it.

Well, it's time to end that; isn't it?

Self-questioning aside, and of course his tenancies to glare at every blown leaf, he was perfectly sane… somewhat. He hadn't truly 'fallen off his rocker', just slipped, or fell asleep during the commercials a bit. He eventually exited the caging greens out near a small road leading to town. Small enough it wasn't paved; but used enough there was a chance of hitching a ride. Of course, the aforementioned red-stained, dirty green trench seemed to ruin any chance of that. So he took the long way, running along the side until he eventually came across a small bike, probably lost off someone's ill-conceived roof-brace. Having no other form of transportation and it being around the right size, he hopped on, quickly diminishing the time it would have taken him to get to town. Too bad for the hiker who returned minutes later to find his bike stolen and his wife glaring at him; so much for their romantic forest-hike.

He approached town cautiously, not wanting to warrant suspicion. He removed his trench and folded it, slinging it over his shoulder so no one could see the stains, of which it is still at your digression to determine their exact cause and fibers of existence. The man stopped what was now his bike – although if possible he would return it… yeah, not probable – first at a clothier, buying appropriate attire before asking for the location of a few other stores, if only to seem like a normal pedestrian. He walked next door to a small general store – appropriately dubbed "The Rugged Wanderer" – getting a bag to store his supplies in, as well as a nice notebook and pencil. One would wonder where he got money for this, and one could be redirected to the poor man who has not only lost his bike but the wallet he so carelessly left in the helmet as well. One must wonder why his wife married him.

Ignoring thoughts of the poor man the strange, trenched-fellow continued his path until he had acquired everything that suited him, clothes, some supplies relevant to that of a student, and a few nonperishable food items. He had also stopped by the local library. However, he did not use the time to catch up on the latest fantasies or government conspiracies, instead using the free-use computers, printing out what one could only assume was an application of some sort. Of course, why he would type up one of those would be a mystery, to all but him. What man would hire a complete stranger, let alone one whose residency was suspicious at best, and looked little worse for wear than a pigeon caught unawares by a large cat.

He paid for the print before returning to his bike and traveling in what would be a form of circle had it not been the exact same way he came: a line, maybe? Nope, not even he was this accurate… but it was scarily close. He brought his new traveling assistance with him though the forest, making it harder than before, but surely worth it when he exited. Which, he did. He exited near the same school whose gates he held only… minutes, hours, days earlier? Time became fickle with a man whom had lived like thee…. and apparently so did the regular English language. He approached the gates with an air of either hope, or pure despise, shrouded only by the shadow the nearly setting sun cast against him. He reached up and pushed the button near a communicator type device, receiving a rapid answer only barely comprehensible enough for him to understand. Name, and purpose.

"Zeitlos Nimmer-Nacht. I am here to see the principle about a possible job."

Near-Future:

Ulrich looked over at Jeremie. A small smile spread across the teens face, as he stubbornly tried to hold back his whoop of joy. They had done it, they had finally shut down Xana! All of them stood around the final lever, all of them. Ulrich, Odd, Jeremie, Aelita, Yumi, and even William, now free from Xana. All of them grinned, Odd seemed fit to burst. Finally, William stepped forward, placed one hand on the lever, and pulled down, turning off the supercomputer for good.

Then it exploded.