"We are immortals." Nancy read the lines from the journal, "We do not die. Yet we do not live. This is our fate."
—
The thin bike-like wheels were stiffly rolling over the road while 15-year-old Sebastian was seated inside a 1920s car, packed with the essence of beauty and prestige automotive engineering. One could surely fly back in time while riding such a vehicle in the future. But Sebastian was staring outside at the roads and alleys of the city of Munich.
The uprisings in the past few years after the war had left the economy stumbling, but the city was as beautiful as ever. Sebastian had placed his arm such that the window of the car would support it. He was dressed formally. His bowtie had loosened up a bit, though.
