The door of a cryogenic tube opens up, making a crisping yet refreshing sound.
An inkling stumbles out of it. Then the Inkling got up, dusted himself off before locating where in the world he was. From what he could tell, it looked like a barren wasteland, as hills of red sand and dark purple sky were displayed for all eyes to see. The Inkling realized that he was standing on a stone platform that resided on a sandhill.
He jumped off the platform and began to walk around, hoping to get directions or figure out where he was. Thoughts began to race throughout his mind as he walked through the torrid wasteland. Most of the thoughts pertained to his identity and who exactly he was as his memory was blank. So blank as the desert as only a wasteland remained. He continued forward, hopelessly praying for a thought or an answer for who he was or where he was. He kept walking and walking and walking till he came across another sandhill, almost identical to the one he had encountered before. Except this one had what appeared to be a circular stone that was partially submerged in the red sand. The Inkling slowly approached it. He became someone elated. Perhaps it was due to the thought of someone else being in a tube near the stone tower. The Inkling thought that maybe they were not alone and that this one was some simulation. Those joyful emotions would be shot down by reality, as the Inkling's theory was shot down. There was no other person near the tower, nor was there a cryogenic tube. A sad realization dawned over the Inkling. They were alone by themself.
He continued to march forward. Time seemed endless yet short as it felt like he had been walking for hours, yet the sky's setting failed to change. Then, finally, the wind began to pick up, and sand began to blow across the horizon. Yet, it didn't crush his spirit. But did he believe that there was something out there, or did he realize that he had nothing to lose and thus no reason not to continue? Whatever he thought was the thing that fueled his engine. He kept moving forward, moving through the wind and across the sandy mesa. The wind began to howl as the air current began to speed up. Still, he trotted on as if there were perfect conditions. Did he view the wind as an obstacle, or was it motivation to continue moving forward? It began blowing in his face, resulting in him pulling up the hood on his hoodie.
A shield to protect him was necessary for him to move forward. Without it, he'd likely be going blind. The hoodie also provided the warmth needed to continue through the desert in what was presumably night. Without it, he'd probably be freezing. Not to mention his glasses that showed him the horizon. Without them, he'd likely be tripping on pebbles. However, if it weren't for those glasses, he would never have made an important discovery. He finished climbing up a sandy dune before noticing what seemed to be a city. Yet, it did not look like the best of places. It seemed rather ancient and worn down.
Finally, a reason for his spirits to be lifted, but the Inkling would quickly steel himself. It would be a mistake for him to get his hopes up due to the earlier disappointment he had faced. Yet that was no reason not to get partially overjoyed. The Inkling dashed down the dune and kept the pace until he got close to the entrance to the deserted-looking city. He stopped at what seemed to be the entrance to catch his breath. The Inkling realized that they were not in the most excellent shape, but that would be a problem for their future self. After all, the present version had to deal with exploring what appeared to be a ghost town. He slowly progressed into the city and took in the architecture (or what was left of the buildings), and suddenly, memories of cities came back. He could not recall the memories themself nor the emotions felt, but he could remember the structures in them. The Inkling soon realized that the structures he saw looked somewhat like those he remembered, yet this was a coincidence. Right? Either way, he marched on, hoping that he would find some form of life. Any form of life would be fine, as it would give the Inkling enough hope to march on. Yet, the city seemed more and more like a ghost town with every step taken. It looked as if the entire city was wiped out. Eventually, he came across a Circular avenue that had a fountain in the middle of it. The fountain had black liquid in it, and again memories of a fountain sprinkled in his mind. But those emotions nor the meaning came back just that there was a similar fountain in the memory. He sighed as despair wiped off his hopeful expression. He approached a park bench that was placed in front of the fountain and sat on it. He sighed with a more defeated tone, "I guess this is it?" he said in a depressed tone as a single tear slowly descended the right side of his cheek. He stood up from the bench and looked up at the sky. While looking up at the sky, he noticed an object go racing through the atmosphere. He let out a slight sarcastic smirk before placing a wish on it. Perhaps what he wanted would come true, but did he remember to be careful about what he wished for, or did he know what he was doing?
The unidentified object seemed to be approaching close to the area which the Inkling was moping. It took a while for the Inkling to realize this. Finally, however, when the Inkling began to run away as soon as the Inkling realized it was coming at him. The Inkling ran across the circular avenue and snuck behind a building on the north path of that avenue. They crouched down but poked their head out to see the events that would transpire. The unidentified object then proceeded to crash right into the avenue's center, resulting in an explosion. An Octoling in a cybernetic outfit emerged from the explosion, and they had a devilish grin on their face. They held what appeared to be weaponized splattershot and were slowly approaching the Inkling. The Inkling was confused by the whole situation, and so they walked out from their hiding spot. The cybernetic Octoling came before pulling out what seemed to be a sheet of paper. The cybernetic Octoling responded to the situation by stating what was on the sheet of paper. "Taylor Jarvis...Under arrest...Part of a resistance...Attempted to stop...The new world...Commit treason...Against the Quee...Disappeared over a half-century..."
The Inkling's head grew heavy. So heavy that the Inkling or Taylor had to stick out his hand to catch it. A dam of amnesia had just been destroyed by a river of memories resulting in Taylor's head becoming rather hefty. As a result, he tuned out a lot of what the futuristic Octoling had to say. The Inkling then collapsed on the ground. The Octoling looked down at Taylor's unconscious body. "So much for what seemed like a lively guy, The cybernetic Octoling stated before swinging Taylor's lifeless body over his shoulder. The Octoling then took out a pager of a sort. "Yeah, I'm going to need a ride back...Yeah, I crashed it again...She won't be pissed...Well, you wouldn't believe what I found is why... alright, talk to you later... thanks."
And just like that, the story had seemed to conclude, but is that the truth of the matter?
"Wake up...Wake up!... WAKE UP!" A bucket of ice-cold water was poured over the unconscious man's body. He awoke to himself shivering in a chair...
To be Continued?
