Once upon a time, a great fireball descended upon the Earth. It landed in the ocean, vaporising itself and turning vast quantities of water into steam. A massive shockwave spread in every direction, spurred on by a fiery wind that set fire to everything in its path.
On the other side of the Earth, the residents of Dinosaurpolis received an SMS tsunami warning on their biodegradable cellphones. One by one they set their pocket diaries to remind them to go into their family weather-shelters after they pick up the kids from school. The tsunami was expected to arrive in five hours. Natural disasters just aren't as exciting as they used to be.
Realising what must have happened, he stopped and hid behind a hedge, contemplating what to do next.
This was the inevitable day. Grandpa spoke of it, when he was alive, as if life's only purpose was to prepare for this day. He was a truly senile old man. Nobody believed him, and he wasn't interested in speaking about anything else, so most people left him alone.
And he would have been alone until the end of his life, if not for the training that he gave David.
"The family art", grandpa called it. David certainly wouldn't call it that. His father never learned it. He didn't stop grandpa from teaching it though. Two hours, every night. Read
The ARC was located on the outskirts of Dinosaurpolis, just outside the industrial area. There was always a lot of heavy traffic going through the area, but today was different. The trucks and cranes and diggers and trains just stopped roaring through like they used to, all day and night. The family of mice thought it was very strange indeed; they've lived in this place their entire lives (almost three months) and they've never heard silence before. Of course, they haven't heard a great many other things: the booming voice of a public address system, the music played on a harp, or the scream of a jet engine. They certainly haven't heard the b