The Thompson family. What were they doing on Sunday at 7 o'clock? Mr. Thompson was cooking dinner in the kitchen. Mrs. Thompson was cleaning their car in front of their house. Jack and Eve were sitting in the hall near the fireplace. Jack, their 11 years old son, was reading Shakespeare's sonnets. Eve, at the age of 16, was playing with Barbies. Their grandma and grandpa were having a good time. Their grandma was exercising in the gym. Their grandpa was ironing shirts and socks in the living room. They also had two pets. And do you know what were they doing? Spot, the puppy, was catching mice in the garden. And Kitty, the little cute kitten, was fighting with neighbour's dog.
i woke up from a long lethargy, in somewhere desolate place. i reminisce my past life where i was been the technician gun specialist, i remember pieces of memory with my family, those were the happiest moments in my life. but they're gone, and i solitary now, hundred years for them, bun only one infinity moment for me. i recoiled at the thought. i see the symbols on the air, they show me the way to those who did this to me.
they are a sect of fanatics, they have a mandate that justifies all their actions. ordinary people called me the indomitable, so sect choice fell on me. they were subjected me to various indignities before my almost eternal sleep.
now i'm emphatic, like never before. i must do this, otherwise i can't fluent with my family on the other side. i have a plan, i will sneak up, when they will commemorate the 500th anniversary of the creation of their sect. i no longer feel compassion in my heart anymore. and my hand will be more accurate than the most avid hunter. it seems the end is near
