Arvin did not move, but looked about him.
Everywhere were pipes with their rusted out ends, and the floor was mend together in bits of used metal.
The architecture which encircled him was of drab brown and gray, and holes in every wall. The restless crowds were thronging the streets, coughing sickly, and their coughs were heard in the fog-filled air.
Arvin was taken aback at the moment, but soon he managed to put his face on a neutral expression. In front of him, two figures, just their faces seen through the haze, stood right before him. One was shorter, a woman with great lines and gray hair. She smiled at him faintly her black eyes growing soft
The other was in the airer, but hump-backed. His hair was a bleached white and his gray eyes shone. Then, Arvin's mother spoke.
Her words were full of attraction and concern.
"D-Dear, what are you doing Slumgate?"
Arvin's eyes widened. His solemnity, which he had so taken care of, slipped.
"What are you doing here?"
His voice shook, and was strangled with feeling. He then stood still knowing it was all wrong.
"No… what am I doing here?"
The smile of his mother was made and his hands- hands dark and misty- ran towards him.
"Does it matter, son? Eleven years long?
Arvin, without pausing, moved forward, and half-way he froze in his tracks. His eyes turned to his father, and his vague face gave him no warm reception.
Arvin's voice turned sharp.
"Then why is he here?"
His father didn't flinch. The dark hands of his mother moved so that she attempted to calm him down. "Oh, he is just here because your father wanted to see you—"
"Lies!"
The sarcastic tone with which Arvin sliced her words was sharper than ever, and tinged with anger.
"Why would father visit me? No… he could not even want to. It was he whom both of you were killed! Arvin leapt, and with another gesture pointed his revolver to the head of his father.
His mother made a gasp and seized his father.
"N-No, dear, it's not what you thin—"
BANG! BANG!
Two bullets had punctured through the foggy sky, and struck them both operations right through before they could fall. The moment froze.
The world was a broken glass, the walls were crumbling and the ground was twisting out of shape as it was crumbling. An icy chill fell by, with the smell of new pizza. The music drifted in and was a mixture of instruments that put the ear at ease. Arvin opened his eyes and the world was different.
The wall color was white and was decorated in gold patterns. Tables, covered with fine cloth drapes, were scattered around the floor, and the rich wooden boards, tapped gently with the beat of the music. The walls were painted in a variety of colours and the pillars elevated high on the floor to the ceiling, were made of white-gold. The chairs were shining in the room and beautifully placed.
"A restaurant?" Arvin muttered to himself. It looked vacant, but on turning another way he came across three figures. One of them was evidently Zoa, still in the same clothes.
The other one was a female, with all her long blonde hair shimmering, but showing only her head and breast as the rest of her body melted into dark clouds.
And Chessie sat behind a second table. Arvin hurried toward her. He tapped her shoulder reaching her side.
Chessie jumped with shock when she turned and faced. "You got out, boss!?"
Arvin's voice was firm. Yes… and what have you to do here?
Chessie was nearly tempted to laugh, and she had to repress herself into seriousness.
"Oh, boss, I dropped my knife on my way over, heh… so I was not able to attack him. He is able to overpower me too simply. However, he is at the moment caught in the Domain of Love. I do not know whether it is his girlfriend or his victim, but in either case, he is not able to see us."
Arvin made no movement, and then raised his revolver very gradually.
"I won't kill him. One shot can be sufficient to harm him and then we can arrest him. Then we will give him to the SGC,, they ought to have three or more members here."
He blew out his nose, and balancing his hand, stood facing the ignorant Zoa.
You could be the murderer we want. You haven't, but you are wrong… BANG!
…
Vince was chopping ground with his silver shovel on the other side of Gita where the mountain forest stood.
His hands were bleeding and sore, his face had been covered with dirt, the sweat streaming down and the nose running. Another gunshot broke in with sound in the distance.
Vince stood paralyzed and stared up at the city.
"Another shot? What's going on in this place… Whatever. I need this."
He went back to digging.
The hole was already a number of meters deep, and a heap of dirt was pilled up behind him. Almost an hour had elapsed when his shovel hit something other.
THUD.