Bear with the intro for a while, and enjoy this little prologue chapter.


'What are the advantages of being young? Free shit and imagination, that's all it boils down to.' Were the thoughts of the person in the office, a man in his late-twenty years based on his appearance, as he slowly swirled the golden liquid in his glass and observed it.'Hmm... Let's ride this train of thought a little... what are the disadvantages of being young?'

He was in a small office, decorated with dark brown walls, floors, and bookshelves filled with books that simply existed to look pretty and never actually be read. There was a large empty desk in front of him, and behind him was a large window, which showed the thick blanket of snow falling and covering the outside.

'No freedom, No-one cares for your opinion, School, Bullying, Peer Pressure.' The swirl of the glass accompanied each new idea. With a sigh, he rested said glass on the desk and reached into a drawer to pull out another. Closing the drawer, he reached into another and he pulled out a bottle with a blue liquid and poured out enough to fill the glass halfway.

'Now, let's try it from the adult point of view. You work for your own shit and freedom... That's all it boils down to.' He used one hand and swirled the glass. 'Disadvantages?'

He sighed, rested a hand on his chin, and observed how the liquid shook. 'Taxes, Bills, Permanent Consequences, Anything imaginative is 'childish'. He paused. To invent, you need a good imagination and a pile of junk - Thomas Edison.' He turned his chair and faced the white world behind him.

'If we as adults don't have an imagination, how the hell do we build or create? Do we simply steal a child's imagination or tap into the ones we used to have?' He simply let that thought hang in existence for a minute. With a sigh, he turned the chair around and discarded the drinking glass beside the one that came before it. The man was so lost in thought, however, that he miscalculated and caused the second glass to slam into the first. Both fell off the table, shattering on impact.

He let out a frustrated sound and moved to pick up the pieces. However, as he hovered over the remains of the glasses, he stopped to stare. He could do nothing for them, but on the carpet-less floor the two liquids had mixed into a jade green-like colour. A thought came to him as he stared.

"There's a thought." He stated to the empty room, "Yes... that's definitely a thought."