The Realist sped across the street, narrowly avoiding an Itineror which swerved and broadsided into a streetlight. He vaulted over the rail protecting pedestrians from the roads and ducked behind a parked Itineror beside a transport parts shop.

The Itineror was an old model, and the large gas exhaust protruded crookedly from the underside. He crouched underneath this, trying to make himself as small as possible and blend into the drab grey color of the vehicle, matching his clothes. He breathed deeply, tired from the short chase. He was not old, but flashes of pain ran down the length of his body. So many scars…

Suddenly, the ground beneath him began to tremble. At that very moment, his head began to ache. This ache turned into a sharp pain that filled his mind, seeming to gnaw at his thoughts, scattering them. He must leave now, or he would weaken too much. But if he was exposed, out in the open, it would find him. The pain moved to wrap against his skull, and he groaned softly. With the consciousness that was left to him, he decided to leave the cover of the Itineror for somewhere else - anywhere where the unbearable waves boring into his head weren’t. He’d be quickly incapacitated otherwise.

He scrambled out from behind the Itineror on all fours, his thoughts all bent on how best to escape. But he couldn’t think, with energy draining out of him as the seconds passed. Then his gaze rested on the Itineror, and an idea sparked in his dulling mind.

He picked up a long metal pole lying beside him - the result of the Itineror which he’d barely avoided - and stabbed it into the narrow space between the door of the Itineror and its metal plating, hoping to use it as a lever to open the door. But his strength was fading fast, and his already weak attempts slackened. He ducked back behind the Itineror again. There had to be another way to do this, one that wouldn’t reveal himself.

But as he strained to concentrate, the air was filled with a sound. The sound of pistons, gears, and other mechanical parts, clicking to an unknown rhythm. It was coming closer, and with that realization, a strange calmness overcame him. He had no choice now, so there was no point in worrying.