𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑-𝐌𝐀𝐍..
Not all heroes get remembered and surely not all heroes have it all; this story is about the hero who was never where she was supposed to be. Wrong place, wrong time, life gets confusing until a...
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Universe 2714, year 5479, a date without any months or days, listed as barely a countdown of only hours left out of the current year. At least, that seemed to be how the holographic clocks overlooking the city, from their high skyscraper casters, worked. According to them, there were only about one thousand four hundred and sixty hours until they would perhaps celebrate a change into 5480. Some Earth variants Wendy Weber met never would have hoped to reach that year and still be shinning so brightly, but 2714 was a spectacular Universe to have raised its Capital city to reach the sky; make it last so long.
They had stepped through the gateway an hour ago and their ripple closed behind them on the roof of one not quite tall building, were it to be compared to the others. It had its perks and distinctive features though; no railings or taller edges were the first detail which stood out because any larger would have their steps out of the gateway been, instead of enjoying a view, they would have jumped to their deaths.
Wendy assumed time was wrapped around her finger again, but she felt, already, that Peter did not like her escapades involving jumping off of tall things with nothing but the faith that she could fly.
It was also a somewhat small building compared to the giants surrounding them. A cluster of lights, of moving images of metropolitan sounds, mixing together into a controlled mayhem, made ordinary, because all the holographic messages and images, dancing on the tall structures, amongst them and in between, were nothing but a forest of advertisements in which the real announcements such as orange clocks or traffic lights were simple guests. Neon ruled every other railing and overall, staring at the city was as dangerous as putting a laser right into your eye: it momentarily blinded you. Viewers would be stunned.
Generally made on too many levels to count, in terms of building structure, the streets were a whole new puzzling aspect, for there were only three levels of them. The first level, grounded for the most part, roared with electric engines and tired tiers, crunching against heated asphalt, across spiraling highways of ten bands or narrow roads of fast circulation, running between train lines and overall, forming a nervous system to The Capital's pulse of light.
