Back to the beginning

A couple of days earlier...

****

'I should just kill myself' Pablo thought with a heavy sigh.

As the hypersonic train barreled towards the old train station, the passengers inside braced themselves for the abrupt stop.

Additionally, the sleek, futuristic train glided to a halt with a barely perceptible jolt, and the doors hissed open to reveal the worn brick facade of the station.

As the passengers disembarked, they were greeted by the sight of Pablo sitting on a bench, his head bowed and a large headset covering his ears. His eyes were closed, and his face was etched with sorrow.

Moreover, inside the station, the air was heavy with the musty scent of old wood and rusted metal. The ceiling was high and vaulted, with beams of weathered timber stretching up into the dim light.

The walls were lined with old train schedules and faded posters advertising products and events from long ago.

The hypersonic train had brought Pablo to this desolate town, but he seemed to be in a world of his own, lost in his own thoughts and emotions.

He sat there, lost in his music, oblivious to the bustle of the other passengers as they hurried off to their destinations.

"We've arrived at the last stop — Nightshade town, all passengers should alight from the train…" The goofy voice of the captain came from the P.A system.

'Hmm.'

Pablo raised his head slowly as he felt a hand shaking him. He saw a kid with big bright eyes staring directly into his eyes.

"Sir, are you not coming down… The train is about to depart…" said the kid nervously.

Pablo blinked his eyes twice and looked at the empty seat with a slight shock on his face. However, the slight shock on his face disappeared quickly as it appeared on his face.

"Huh!" He stood up slowly and carried his backpack and said to the boy. "Thank you"

As Pablo journeyed through Nightshade town, he wore a deep sorrow on his face. He had come to this place seeking answers, hoping to find some solace in the darkness that surrounded him.

But as he walked the quiet streets, he felt only a sense of emptiness and despair.

The buildings that lined the road were old and weathered, their facades cracked and crumbling.

In addition, the windows were dark and lifeless, and Pablo felt as though he were walking through a ghost town.

The air was thick with the scent of decay and mildew, and he could hear only the distant rustle of leaves and the occasional creak of a door.

As he passed through the town square, he saw a group of people gathered in the center, their heads bowed in prayer.

He paused for a moment, feeling a sense of kinship with them, but as he approached, he saw that their faces were cold and emotionless. They didn't acknowledge his presence, and he felt a pang of isolation and alienation.

Pablo continued, his steps heavy and slow. He passed by a row of shops, their windows filled with dusty, forgotten wares.

He saw a toy store, its shelves stocked with faded dolls and broken toys. A pet store, its cages empty and rusted. A bakery, its counters bare and desolate.

The deeper he went into the town, the more he felt as though he were walking through a graveyard. He passed by a cemetery, its graves marked with old, weathered stones.

He saw a chapel, its windows stained with cobwebs and grime. He heard the distant sound of a mournful organ, but as he drew closer, the music faded away, leaving only a hollow silence in its wake.

Finally, Pablo reached the edge of the town, and he looked back at the desolate landscape that surrounded him. He felt a deep ache in his heart, a sense of loss and longing that he couldn't explain.

He knew that he had come to Nightshade town searching for something, but now he realized that he had only found more questions, more pain, and more emptiness.

As Pablo arrived at the wooden house at the edge of Nightshade town, he was struck by how empty and desolate it looked.

Besides, the yard was overgrown with weeds, the paint on the house was chipped and faded, and there were no signs of life anywhere. But to Pablo, this was exactly where he had come to find solace.

He had grown tired of the city, with its constant noise and reminder of his failed self.

Thus, he longed for a simpler time, a place where he could be alone with his thoughts and find some peace.

And perhaps, to commit suicide.

So he had made the journey back to his father's house, hoping that it would offer him the comfort he sought in the meantime.

As he approached the door, he felt a sense of trepidation. It had been years since he had been here, and he didn't know what he would find inside. But he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The air was stale and musty, and he could see dust motes dancing in the shafts of light that filtered in through the windows.

The furniture was old and worn, but everything was in its place as if waiting for someone to come back and use it.

Pablo wandered through the house, taking in the familiar sights and sounds. He saw the kitchen, with its old wood-burning stove and rows of canned goods on the shelves.

In addition, he saw the living room, with its threadbare sofa and old television set. He saw his old bedroom, with its twin bed and worn-out quilt.

As he walked, he felt a sense of peace settle over him. This was where he had grown up, where he had learned about the world and himself.

This was where he had first discovered his love of books and robot fighting, where he had spent countless hours lost in his own thoughts, watching his father train his robot for fighting.

Besides, he knew that the house was empty now, his father was mysteriously lost at sea, and there was no one left to share these memories with.

But to Pablo, that didn't matter. He was here, in this place that was once his home, and that was enough for him to wallow in his web of sorrow.

In the next couple of days, the news of the son, the legendary Robot fighter spread throughout the small Nightshade town, shocking the folks.

Thus, the peaceful life of Pablo da Fonte was about to turn upside down and he would realize this old town was not as peaceful as it seems on the surface.