Little Man Go - The Warriors of Wren (Volume 1)

-1- A POSSUM ENCOUNTER

This place sucks!!! Jimmy scribbled in his notebook, followed by an aggressively outlined word balloon. The gripe completed his latest sketch of the lone Hat Warrior, standing atop the battlements of the outer wall.

Jimmy found the Hats easy to draw as they were the only Warriors that typically stood rigid for hours on end while maintaining a watchful vigil over the fog-covered plains of the Valley below.

He slapped his notebook shut and exhaled slowly and noisily, staring out at the bleak surroundings from his small apartment window.

A small group of Umbrella Warriors diverted his attention away from the Hat as they flew over the perimeter wall, coasting along a fast-moving fog current toward a larger group in the distance. The group appeared to be practicing aerial attack maneuvers above the surrounding Deadwood Swamp.

Watching the swirling fog currents intertwine and dance their way across the landscape was a sight that Jimmy had previously found soothing, but lately it only fueled his depression. He presumed he would feel differently if he had the ability to ride them, but he was no Warrior.

Jimmy was envious of those who had the ability to ride the currents, an ability he had longed for. But everyone had a place in Wren, and his was to monitor and advise from the safety of the Hive.

The thinner fog coverage in the mornings allowed him to see the outline of the eastern mountain ranges in the distance. No new skirmishes appeared to have broken out in the vicinity of the Factory, and all seemed to be unusually still.

The swamp was at high tide; its greyish-brown waters glowed with a slight green tinge as gentle waves rippled onto the muddy shore, not far from the Factory's huge perimeter walls.

As he stared mindlessly into the seemingly endless abyss, the same questions played out through his mind like a broken record.

What would life be like beyond the Great Divide?

Will this war ever end?

The only thing he knew with some certainty was that the war had raged on for around seventy years, give or take a few. No one could really remember exactly when it started, how it started, or why it looked like it wouldn't be coming to an end anytime soon. Everybody just accepted it and moved on about their daily lives.

"Life is boring," Jimmy said as he turned his back on the view. He threw his notebook onto the bedside table and began to straighten his bedsheets. His impaired memory had prevented him from remembering his past, although he could still recall feelings about certain events, people, and objects. War, for instance, was supposed to instill feelings of fear, anger, or sadness. This war had none of that for him, it was just boring, like everything else.

He vaguely remembered a time where his attitude and feelings regarding the war had been different, but after many years of the same, he had become indifferent to everything.

Jimmy was afraid of death, although he did on occasion morbidly wonder whether becoming one with the fog, would at least provide some respite from the monotony of everyday life.

The battles against the various Clans and Gangs of Wren occurred on nearly a daily basis; his job, along with thousands of other Analysts, was to assist the Tribal Warriors from the Hive without ever having the need to engage the enemy directly. It was a relatively straightforward and safe job that made Jimmy feel like a coward. Something within him believed that there was more to his life than the war and that he was somehow capable of more, but access to his past was locked away behind several impenetrable doors within his mind. Doors that he had been denied access to no matter how hard he tried.