It's all Andrew's Fault

Monday, 7th February 1581.

It was a cold winter evening and the sun was about to set, casting an orange hue across the darkening sky. Although the day was about to end, the Damascus Train Station was bustling with life.

The sounds of the steam trains blowing their horns could be heard even outside of the station as people went in and out through its two-way entrance.

Right outside the entrance to the train station, a black steam car was parked on the road. And Bryan was leaning against one of its doors as he smoked a cigarette.

He took a deep puff of the cigarette and inhaled the smoke as he felt the nicotine buzz. He glanced at the people around in a daze.

All sorts of people could be seen coming in and going out, businessmen in fine-tailored suits carrying briefcases, families with children and the elderly going on vacation, and even individuals who looked like they were embarking on a new journey in their life.