The ocean lapped at the sand leaving its lacy foam to trail the waves as they retreated. Faust placed a quick toe in the water and took it back even quicker. It was icy. How the fish could stand to live in there was beyond his comprehension, but behind him was his brother and his gang and the only way to escape was a swim to the buoy. If he could rest there until they gave up and then swim back he had a chance, a small one. Remaining where he was was a death sentence, and not a painless one either. He took his clothes off fast, keeping only his underwear and his backpack with the thermal pads. Surviving out there would be no picnic, he'd be hypodermic in minutes.

Like a baby crawling to its mother, the waves rolled back and forth from the gritty shore. The water was rough, rougher than usual. The thick, salty air uncontrollably consumed Faust's breath until it hurt, salt and sand mercilessly scouring the back of his throat.

The small, wet pebbles that lined the beach sparkled in the lingering light of sunset. The water was almost still, small waves occasionally hitting the beach with little force. Faust Noire reached down to pick one up, running his thumb over its smooth surface. It was perfectly round, with no sharp edges or jagged curves. He swung his arm back and flicked his wrist, watching the small pebble skip across the surface of the sea.

Faust didn't care that the sand was damp from the night's rain. He sat right down and let it soak right through his jeans. Then he took off his shirt and faced the waves, toward the rising sun. The ocean breeze on his chest took him right back to childhood. The salty taste of the air on his tongue and the scent of the sea in his nostrils was like a time warp and when he closed his eyes he could hear his father laughing at him falling backwards onto his sandcastle. It had stung at the time, he'd thought it mean that his father should find it so very funny. But now that hearty sound was a treasured memory. By the time the sun was up fully he'd be long gone, off to a days work at the market.

As time elapsed endlessly, the Coyote sat there amongst the saline ocean shore retrospectively reflecting on his life. The water was scorching hot as it crashed violently against the rough, golden sand, obliterating all to be seen. The amber lukewarm sun glistened elegantly in the pale blue sky as clouds cascade to and fro. A white blanket of froth formed as the tide gradually approaches the shore. Faust began to feel neglected, isolated and restricted from the rest of the world. A sense of nostalgia gushes through his body as it feels as if he had been here forever consulting with himself. Nothing was to be heard nor seen, no sign of hope, no form of civilization, nothing at all. Just him and the tranquilizing waves which crashed vigorously against the shore.

The gentle waves scattered the evening sun like the sequins that lay scattered from the festival. Litter tumbled over the cooling sand, some catching on an soggy pile of garish faux fur, a pantomime horse costume. The occupants were now more than black dots on the blue-green horizon, escaping to the freedom of the next island. Their legs kicked furiously at the fathoms deep salty brine, but they had not gotten this far on muscle power alone; and that was the brilliance of their plan. They had stolen the costume from the deserted theatre and proceeded to the desalination plant. The new machines had been plastered all over the news, only three pounds each and able to produce a litre of potable water every five minutes, sucked in from five sides and blasted out a pipe in the back...like a jet.

The current situation of the climate, the blazing ball of gas that ruled over the planets, was punishing. As if a king, the yellow star threw out balls of flames that scorched the skins of all. Relentless in its attack, the pain was enough to wake up Faust and bring him back to reality. The memories of him and the ocean dispersed in the matter of an instance. The Coyote spawned his long nails, scratching the back of his head and tried to analyze the situation. "I'm on a futon..." he mumbled, clearly half-awake from the entire ordeal. "Look at that sea that has shone and quivered there for ever! See the white spume rush into darkness under that great cliff." he spouted. If there was one thing Faust wasn't, it was being a poet. But surprisingly, there he was, spouting poetry.

Dr. Stephan Mabuz pounced onto Faust, which brought up several questions. Where did the doctor come from? Where was Faust? He picked at the back of his head until the memories were brought up from the day before. He took on a job request by this crazy man once again. With a injection in his hands, the doctor shot the possibly dangerous fluid into Faust, causing a weird hallucination of sorts. The Coyote saw a monster of sorts, screamed after, and then blacked out. Crazy. What was even crazier was how the doctor wanted to keep such a discovery quiet, hence paying the Coyote to keep his mouth shut.


*Note: Grimoire Heart members have a skill that gives them 10% off on quests.