act 1 | part 1
It’s dark. The injured Norwegian tries his best to see, but it’s completely pitch black. He squirms - there’s ropes binding him to what feels like a chair. The bindings uncomfortably chafe against his injured right arm. His hair is mussed, fallen over into his face.
And then a light comes on, all of a sudden, blinding him for a moment as his eyes adjust.
The room is completely empty, but he feels as if there are others in the room with him.
An unfamiliar voice hisses threatening words from behind. He refuses to look and see who it is, not yet. The walls are a deep scarlet in color - painted, not bled on.
Being in charge? Does he know about his plans? Was he there to witness that catastrophe that feels like it had only happened minutes ago?
He glances over his shoulder for a split second. The stranger is wearing one of the uniforms from his little “Red Army” of his. But the logo is crossed out wherever it lays on the clothing. Brown hair and a green shirt… but it’s not his friend, no. He seems too old.
Who is this?
He decides to retort the words spoken to him.
No response is uttered by the stranger. To think of it, this couldn’t possibly be Edd, even if time travel was a possibility. His voice sounds too different, even with a different accent.
But the real question remains in his mind.