'THESE BORING MEN ARE UNINTERESTING.'
John closed the SERIOUS BUSINESS app and opened up Pesterchum.
TT: John, are you ok?
TT: You seem a bit tentative.
EB: i'm fine i guess.
EB: since i got here i feel compelled to do these weird things i don't really want to do.
EB: by some kind of voice that i can't really even hear. i don't know, it is hard to explain.
TT: Perhaps the early symptoms of an anxiety disorder, like post-traumatic stress?
EB: yeah, maybe. who knows!
TT: Well, if you can pull yourself together, there are a few more things we should try.
TT: Like prototyping the Kernelsprite again, if possible.
TT: We should hurry. My laptop battery won't last forever.
EB: Ok. I will go back inside.
'NO DON'T DO THAT. HOP OFF THIS LEDGE ON TO THAT CAR.'
John looked down at his dad's car below him.
"What? No! That sounds incredibly dangerous!" John replied to the voice that was probably in his imagination.
He shook his head violently in disapproval.
Now they were just being a pest. Which turnip truck did they just tumble out of anyway? Who was this?
Years in the future, but not many…
An unsealed tunnel welcomed hot desert air into its stagnant depths.
Light poured into the dark opening, which lead deep underground to a forgotten laboratory. But, it was forgotten no more.
The Wandering Vagabond entered cautiously, looking at his strange new surroundings.
Blinking through his rags, he approached a large series of four screens, set in some sort of metal backing that was designed to look like a house that the people of the past used to live in.
And on the top right screen, an image of a boy holding an apple standing outside his home, which had just been moved to a mysterious new location, was displayed.
A boy named John Egbert.
Reaching out his black hands to the keyboard beneath it, the Vagabond typed out the word "BOY" and hit enter.
'YOU THERE. BOY.'