A nameless town somewhere beyond the Alps.
At the edge of town, Cypher rode his motorcycle down the highway toward its center.
He wanted to ask someone in town what month and day it was.
At this time of year, there were few vehicles on the road and not much large debris.
Cypher sped forward, the wake behind him whipping dust and tattered newspapers off the road.
"The War to Defend the Nation Has Begun!"
Never mind that the rest had been ravaged by the elements until it was illegible—even that huge headline failed to draw Cypher's attention.
Quiet—far too quiet—
The town before him looked abandoned, yet from what he had observed, many people had once lived here.
He just did not know what had happened. From his observations, there were no traces of magic.
Were the ordinary people in this town holding some sort of event?
Filled with doubts, Cypher continued along the highway that ran through the town.
Screech—
The sound of brakes grinding harshly enough to set one's teeth on edge.
Once the motorcycle had slowed, Cypher turned around and headed back to one of the roadside houses he had passed.
After parking the motorcycle, Cypher quickly walked to the front door of the house.
Knock, knock—
After knocking twice lightly, Cypher waited in place with a strange expression.
Creak—
The bearings groaned heavily from a lack of lubrication.
"Young man, come in yourself..."
An aged, hoarse voice drifted through the crack in the door.
Only then did Cypher raise his hand and push open the metal gate.
"Young man, do you need water or food? There's only canned food. I hope you won't mind."
The old man had his back to him, bent and hunched, his steps unsteady.
In Cypher's senses, the old man's