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Sweet Three, Four Sour, Echo

Max sat on the seat of the maglev; it was oddly comforting for him. A sense of being alive, being in a place where he knew he was safe, a feeling of being home. Which was a weird sensation for him to feel.

He scanned the newsheet feed, catching up on the news of the morning, events that had happened overnight while he slept. His mind actively searching for trigger words.

Trigger words, what is that supposed to mean?

He took his attention from the newsheet and glanced at the landscape as it zipped past like a blur, meshing together like one giant panting. It all seemed vaguely familiar, yet strange to him. Maybe, just maybe he...

"Tickets, please," the conductor asked, breaking Max from his train of thought.

Max lifted up his wrist and the conductor scanned it.

"Magenta," the conductor said.

"Huh?" Max asked.

"Pardon?" the conductor replied.

"Did you say 'magenta'?" Max questioned him.

The conductor looked at him strangely and finally stated, "I said you are welcome."