It was an usually windy night in Las Pegasus, and an usually dark one at that. Luna’s moon was absent from the sky, and the stars that she surrounded herself with twinkled dimly rather than brilliantly. It was unnerving to think that a city as large as this could seem so quiet during a certain time period only to burst back to life not but a few hours later. Few things could be described as truly, deathly quiet, but this night in the City of Pegasi was certainly one of them.
Somewhere within the bowels of the sprawling metropolis, a figure, hidden in the shadows by the dim light of a small room, hunches over a simple wooden table. Music fills the room, though it is not a lively, welcoming fill, more like a loose plug stuffed into a void that was ready to collapse and fall back into silence and emptiness at any moment. The record, an old opera tune, peevishly skipped every few moments, but the figure in the room paid no mind to it; disregarded it as though it weren’t even playing, but gently hummed to it as if it was known by heart. All around the figure were stacks of newspapers, comic books and magazines, some old and some new, that appeared to easily be four to five feet in height. Rather than valued pieces of art and knowledge, or the collections of some unaware hoarder, many of the pages within these collections were ravaged beyond repair and left with only more damage to come to them.
The dark figure hums the familiar tune as a pair of scissors and a pair of tweezers are seized. The cover of a comic book is flung open and the scissors carefully, majestically, cut around no more than one letter within an already butchered dialogue box. The tweezers gently squeeze the freshly cut character, as a mother cat might hold her cub to protect him from danger, only to carry it over and place it down, at a very slight angle, atop a small dab of glue. Alongside the comic’s ‘A’ were more characters, which turned to form sentences, which turned to form an entire, crudely constructed letter. This was no ordinary letter though, no, this was a very special letter that only very special individuals could receive and read. It was destiny. This letter was legacy and fate. The hunched figure stood at full height and turned, letter in possession, to walk just as the record ended with an eerie repeat.