"Your Identification please, mister Barker," the female on the counter commanded.
Damion reached into a pocket in his leather jacket for a plastic ID card, setting it gently on the desk.
Damion sighed, getting several rolls of paper.
The lady at the counter took a look at each and every form set on her desk, scanning the bar codes and typing away at her keyboard with scrutiny. She first looked at the ID card, the black text reading "Todd Barker", and a non-smiling face stared back at her. She looked at the...
It became increasingly tense in the estate, the lone, last son of Keller blood sitting in the puffy, leather-backed chair that once sat Damion himself, was now occupied by the brown otter that once considered himself a son of the Kellers. He fascinated himself with the former journals and recordings of his Uncle-in-law, appreciating the sheer beauty of Damion's labyrinthian mind. He clicked "play", for the umpteenth time today.
"Day four, sixteen hundred hours, subject 145B, Procedure 1150 Seleucid. It seems as if I have successfully created a "Consciousness Server", with...
"I would like to have a word with his excellency, Emperor Richard Walter!" Hannah shouted to the gatehouse.
No response, nor sign of life answered her request.
Hannah got an idea.
"I'm carrying twenty boxes of cheese pizza!"
Not two minutes afterwards, the wood and steel gate cracked open, the hinges creaking loudly with age and continuous use. A small female penguin wobbled into the scene. She wagged her tail feathers happily and smiled.
Damion found his way into a small hatch outside Hannah's office, locking it tightly and entering a musty crawlspace, where he got on all fours and did a belly slide to the other end. There, he saw a rusted grate, which he kicked open and plopped out into the snow. It wasn't long before he had started putting on a plush winter coat made of black leather. Sirens were blaring throughout the city, muffling the normally loud traffic of the streets of Augusta. Damion had to get away from the office complex NOW.
Skipper woke up and saw how Lucile was making everyone’s breakfast.
Skipper: You're up early, I'm usually the first one.
Lucile: Yes, I thought I'd make everyone's breakfast before they woke up. Here's your breakfast by the way.
Skipper: Thanks, smells delicious.
Lucile: You’re welcome. Now I'll have to make Private, Gallis and Chad's breakfasts, they'll be waking up in an hour.
At 10:00 everyone was sitting around the pond, enjoying their meal, giving Lucile lots of compliments on her cooking skills.
The room remained still and silent for several moments, until Damion spoke again.
"Harsh and unnecessary, I know... But when one is facing cold accusation and being given a fierce interview, they would do the same... Albeit in a more mild form..." Damion sighed. "I still look back at that and want to acknowledge that I did something stupid.. But I won't, it was the most rational thing I could think of doing, and it still seems like I could have reacted differently, but being trapped in a corner leaves you no choice..."