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Shadow (Prologue)

We don't belong here. 

We never did. 

We never have should. 

Perhaps the bigger question in mind was, how did we end up here? And why? 

Every leading question has a solution, and a solution has a purpose, a destiny. A reason for its existence. I couldn't understand mine yet since I wasn't dead yet...exactly. I was still in my youth, but taller than ever before. My Juvenile Tyrannosaurus life grew out of me, and a young teenage childhood turned into adulthood in my later years. Which meant more options, less rules. But nonetheless, it increased the size of danger in our environment. 

Weeks ago we arrived here in this strange forest. Colorful Bugs danced in the wind waves that brushed its claws through the limbs of the oaks and pines, while the leaves fluttered wildly like earthquakes. The sky glowed bluer than the ocean itself, not a dare cloud revealed its face to the world. The ground was littered with sticks and fungi, desperate to deserve its fair share from the sunlight above. Grass, something that I've never seen before, laid waste on the earth, covering up everything in its path. 

It was difficult to walk through the dense forest, for everything seemed so...small.

Whiteclaw, an albino deinonychus, laid restlessly on my back, eyes wide and deep in thought as I took him for a small ride through the evergreens and oaks, with some scents of maple lingering through the breezes as well. He almost died a week ago, injuring himself from an explosion when the world wasn't looking. 

The world wasn't looking when I arrived as well. When we all did.

One egg remained in my mouth as well as I strolled along, and at this point, I sort of forgotten what species it belonged to. Eventually, the forest parted, and my eyes darted from sightseeing to its widening openings. 

What's this?

As the forest parted up, the world grew a little brighter, and I stumbled sheepishly into the basking light. One of my feet stepped onto something hard and smooth. A rock? Or perhaps a trail of rocks? They looked black, dark like cavern walls or shadows, or the night sky, and rough to rub my scales on. Each of their edges touched another, compacted tightly among the crowd that stretched from the horizon to the left, to the rising sunlight to the right. Then there was a blockage ahead, a green one that pointed up to the sky. 

What kind of figure was this? I've never seen anything like it. As if things could become any stranger, Whiteclaw gasped on my back, fingers pointing upwards to a hazy site in the distance.

"Look....!" He breathed, eyes widening. I glimpsed forwards past the rays of the sun into the blue open air. Something strange poked from the ground itself, like mountains straight and true to the atmosphere. Sounds, unlike anything I've ever heard, shouted to the world, like a herd to distinct and too excited to keep quiet, buzzing up the morning skies, and gleaming rays that emitted from the blocks of metal. You readers perhaps wouldn't understand these descriptions. It's possibly too easy for you to tell.

A city.