CHAPTER ONE
The boy woke up in a box.
Heavily rusted and thick with oil, as information rushed into his brain. My name is Grey. How to eat. How to speak. How to walk. Disturbingly, he couldn't remember his last name, or his parents. He shakily sat down on the floor of the box, the wind ripping through his hair. and yelled. "Can anybody help? Help!" he pounded on the metal weaving, yelling until his voice was sore. He placed a hand on his head, a bruise starting to form on his forehead as he groaned in pain. Have I been here for hours? No, not hours. Definitely less than that. And there was something else. The box was moving. So it had to lead somewhere. Right?
He sat down in the box. There was nothing, really. Just themself and the screeching drag of metal. He blocked his ears, which made no difference, and started yelling for help again. "Someone! Anyone, help!" he gave up quickly, seeing it to no use over the terrible noise. Suddenly fresh daylight flooded the box, and Grey jumped onto his feet, drinking in the fresh air as the top of the box opened.
He tried to climb out the box, but the walls were too high up. He saw a rope lowered, and he started climbing it, too tired to care if it was a trap, until he collapsed onto grass and dirt. Grey was surrounded by a square expanse of makeshift buildings and gardens, a larger garden in one corner and the whole thing surrounded by tall stone walls, a massive chunk of stone missing in the centre of each wall, which almost looked like doors.
Sadly, he saw a bunch of ruins as well. He looked at the person who helped them up. It was an Asian boy, with black hair and strong arms, his sleeves rolled up to reveal muscled arms, who looked a few years older than Grey. He clapped Grey on the back, which hurt, before announcing "Welcome to the Glade kid. Or at least, what's left of it."