Lucian wiped the sweat from his brow, leaning into the machinery and tweaking a few of the parts inside. He tightened a screw there and wrapped some wiring there... Soon he stepped back and admired his work. He found himself a seat, sitting down and resting his sore back, panting heavily from days of manual labour.

The machine resembled a tiny room, with enough room to sit inside at a control panel with many different buttons. It had taken him years, literally years of planning and creating it. Now he was looking at his final product. The time machine was finally complete.

Excitement finally caught up to him. He got to his feet and rushed into his house, going to his phone to call someone, anyone about his invention. Soon he hang the phone up, realising that not only did he not know who to call, but he wasn't even sure if they'd believe him. He had to have some sort of proof.

He walked back to the machine and eyed it, wondering if he should try it out. No, that would be stupid. What if it didn't work? What if it blew up...? He stood there in his garage, trying to think up a way to test it safely.

It must have taken a long time, because when he finally sat in the machine, it was already night time. Lucian was notorious for easily being lost in thought. Perhaps that was why he had no friends. He shrugged, not really caring too much about companionship. He closed the doors and stared at the control panel, his heart racing. He had nothing to lose, but it still would be nice if it didn't explode.

He gulped and pushed a few buttons, and then pulled the lever to activate the machine. A loud whirring noise started all around him and then an even louder banging. He felt as though he was moving very quickly across the room, though he hadn't built windows in the small room to be able to look out of.

He tried the doors, but they wouldn't open. The whirring and banging became so loud that he could barely think straight. He banged on the control board, trying to make the machine stop. Instead it went faster and faster, louder and louder. He closed his eyes, praying for it to stop.

After what seemed like forever, the machine went quiet. It rattled and shook, smoke piling up around him. A fire. Coughing, Lucian kicked at the door, finally getting free. He gasped for fresh air, turning around to stare in horror at the time machine that was now ablaze. He had to do something about it!

He quickly rushed for his kitchen, thinking of the fire extinguisher he kept there, when he realised he wasn't standing in his garage any more. His blue eyes grew wide as he looked about him. He appeared to be standing in a large field of stone, under a dark blue sky and bright red sun. Where was he...? Had his machine worked...? He gulped and turned just in time to see the machine be completely engulfed by the flames.

He stood, frozen by terror and shock. He tried to move away, but his legs just didn't want to work. The machine started to beep and suddenly, it exploded, making Lucian fly backwards from the force. He hit the ground hard, his head cracking against a rock. He blinked, feeling dazed as his world steadily turned dark.

Fire! His ears twitched, longer and more pointed then their creators had probably intended them to be. There was a commotion in his area, one Vincent was certain couldn't be normal. Pointed teeth snapped together as he growled and his feline eyes narrowed. He was one of the older ones, not quite a true creation, but separated by only three generations from them. They aged differently then the humans who had created them from their ranks, from scraps of dna and hybridization. He had a tail to show, and the eyes of a cat, for the animal dna that had been infused into his ancestors' makeup. Of course, there was much more to him then that.

Lite shape, strong muscles, bones as strong as diamond... He possessed all of those, and the beauty of one of the play creations humans had made when they played gods. Vincent ran, his braided burgundy hair hitting his back hard as he pounded across stone, vaulting down cliffs that would have killed the creators. Not so him, weapon and beauty both. A growl rose from his chest when he saw the debris of forbidden machinery strewn about. Well at least it was destroyed... Though the acrid scent of it all made his sensitive nose wrinkle in disgust, or was that the scent of the prone form laying upon the ground?

With leather gloved, clawed, hands he hoisted the unconscious man over his shoulder and retraced his steps. Vincent dropped him unceremoniously upon his very own cot, in the cave he'd chosen for his own. It was small, but certainly big enough for one person alone and a friend. Not that he had many of those, having chosen to become a ranger.

Lucian groaned, feeling his head throb and ache. He opened his eyes, his vision blurred and unsteady. It took him awhile to realise that, once again, his surroundings had changed. He tried to sit up, but felt that he was far too dizzy to. Instead he slowly moved his aching head to look about.

He seemed to be in some sort of cave, that had been done up to resemble a home. He was lying on a comfortable cot, and his head seemed to have been wrapped in some sort of material made from moss and bark. He groaned again, his blurry vision seeing a figure in the shadowy interior.

"Wh... Where am I...?" he asked groggily, forgetting the incident with the time machine. "Who...?"

Vincent turned from the poultice he'd been in the process of creating. "In my home. Mine, me being Vincent. Now lie down. You don't see to have inherited very resilient genes. Defective ones, it seems. What are you doing so far from the compound city?" It as walled, protected from the dangers the Creators had made for war. He was descended from a soldier's line, and a bed warmer's. He was grateful for the former everyday, even more so because he wasn't defective like some were, like this one.

"Well no matter, I'll take you back and you'll be safe from harm there. Just don't wander through the Outskirts again, alright?" Defectives were supposed to stay in the compound, always near the city center where they could be protected by all the others. They were perhaps frailer then them, but no less precious to the city community for all that.

"Where...?" Lucian was still completely confused by the words that this... Vincent said. He blinked again, his eye sight finally clearing up. He looked over at the other man again and gasped. He had long, pointed ears! And a long cat-like tail! I have to be dreaming... he thought, his head still pounding. He closed his eyes, trying to imagine the cat-man away. "I've never had a lucid dream before," he commented, his eyes still firmly shut. "It's a shame my subconscious decided to dream up you instead of a good-looking female..."

He was being harsh, but what did it matter to a figment of his dreams? He pinched himself, but the sharp pain didn't snap him back into reality. That was when he remembered the time machine. Had it actually worked...? He opened his eyes and watched the catman. "What year is it?" he asked him.

(He has pointy ears like an elf)

Vincent rolled his eyes and settled down upon the cot. He removed the covering and poured a good dollop of poultice onto the bruised flesh. He massaged the goop on with gentler hands, softer, then he seemed to posses upon first glance. His sharp teeth were put in evidence as he grinned. "This isn't a dream." He shook his head. "You must really have hit your head harder then I thought."

The red haired man lowered his head." It's 3189, by the old Creator's calendar. We didn't bother making a new one, or don't you remember that?" He was beginning to think he had an amnesiac on his hands. What an annoyance! Vincent rolled his eyes. Once the poultice was well spread, the man leaped up to wash his hands in a nearby basin, filled with rain water.

(Sorry XD)

Lucian shuddered when the man touched him, briefly realising that he was naked. Where had his clothes gone? He brought the blankets about him, suddenly feeling shamed. But that date... He shook his head in disbelief. "That means it worked..." he muttered to himself. But now he was stuck here, in a distant future he had no idea about. What was this man? Were there others like him? What was this world like now?

"I... I came here from the past," he muttered, realising how stupid it sounded. "From 2020, to be precise..." He thought about his 21st century world. Would he ever see it again? He didn't have any friends or family left, but he still missed it. His house, his work shop... All those years inventing this blasted machine... And he hadn't thought to put in a display or... "My clothes... Where are they?" Surely Vincent had noticed how different they were to his. Also, his wallet had his ID in it. He could convince the catman that he was from the past.

Vincent ignored most of what the other man said. Instead, he focused on plucking cloth from various places in the cave. He wasn't the most organized of people, and it showed. There were things laying about everywhere, cluttered together in heaps and clumps. Since the ranger usually lived alone, there had never been any need to keep a tidy home.

Nonchalantly, he dropped the cloth over the other man." You can wear this. I washed everything else, now it's hanging up to dry. Don't worry, you'll get them back." He settled down on the ground. Practiced movements had him polishing a sword, honing its edge and making certain it was well maintained. He hadn't been wearing it earlier, though he should have been. At least there had been knives hidden away here and there in his clothing.

Lucian struggled to sit up again, finding that he wasn't as dizzy as before. "You don't believe me... Do you?" he asked Vincent, eyeing the sword that the man carefully polished. What sort of world was the future, where a man had to carry a weapon...? Why wasn't he carrying some sort of gun? Lucian was suddenly frightened. What was going to happen to him, now he was lost in this world? Were people like him used as slaves?

"Where are you going to take me...?" he questioned, his fright making his voice shake. "What has become of humans in this world...? People... Like me...." Did Vincent even know what a human was? What if they had died out? He would be the last of his kind... Lucian suddenly felt so very alone. He had been so stupid to try the machine out on himself....

He turned about to face the other man with pity in his eyes. "Oh you poor delusional defect. The Creators, humans, have long died out. We, the modified ones are all that have survived." War tended to wipe people out, and machines had led to that. There were edicts against most mechanical things for just such a reason. Besides, they didn't want to pollute the world like it had once been. They were still trying their best to repair the damage their ancestors had done to the world.

"Defect...?" Lucian felt as though his head was spinning again. "No, I am a human." A Creator? Humans were like Gods to these people? He pulled on the clothes provided by the catman, trying to think of a way to convince him that he told the truth. "The machine... What happened to it?" He hoped that he could fix it and go back to him own time period.

He then remembered the explosion and his heart sunk. There was no going back home now. He doubted he could make another one, not with the world as it was now. He tried to stand, but his body still ached from the grazes and bruises. "Please, Vincent, you have to believe me. I'm not from this time period! How can I convince you?"

His tail twitched, red fur bristling slightly. Vincent had to force himself not to growl. How could anyone be so mad as to think that they were human? Not the gene modified beings the creators had brought forth, but a creator themselves! "You cannot. As for machines, if it had still existed I would have been forced to destroy it. There are laws against them for a reason!" Well against most of them.

There were some things that were allowed, because they were changed. Those machines didn't harm the environment, but instead worked with it, like the windmills, like and waterwheels. Both were common ways to harness energy, wonderful things that allowed them to power other machinery which let them communicate along great distances.

"But..." It seemed that there was no way to argue with the man. Vincent seemed to be getting annoyed, like a father would to a child that asked too many questions. He hugged himself, looking about the cave again.

For the first time in his life, he felt truly terrified. He had no idea what this world was like and what would happen to him. If he was, in everyone else's eyes, a 'defect', did that mean he was to be destroyed? He thought back to his house, to his clean kitchen and cosy living room. He'd never see it ever again. Neither would he see his lawn-obsessed neighbour, or the nice lady who walked her poodles past his house every day.

He blinked, his eyes stinging slightly. He sniffed, quickly wiping the tears away. "My wallet... Where is it?" He had to find it, to prove to Vincent that he was truly from the past.

"Oh the antique?" Vincent shrugged and moved to rummage in a corner of his cavern home in area piled with boxes, cloth, and all manner of things. From the haphazard mess he pulled out the other man's belongings. This, Vincent plopped into the stranger's lap. "I did wonder how you managed to get your hands on such a convincing ID... Those are rather difficult to get, used only in the black market. That's how you got the machine, isn't it?"

He couldn't really blame someone without enhancements for wanting machines, but it was against the law. That was why Vincent had decided to be lenient with the other man. Besides, his guest was being nice enough, for now.

Lucian's heart sunk. If Vincent had already seen his wallet and decided that his ID was fake... He pulled it out, finding all the cards that belonged to him and finally his ID. "Look, my name is Lucian Torr, it says so here. I was born in 1995, I got this licence when I was 18, see?" He just wanted Vincent to believe him. "All my cards have my name on them." If only he carried his birth certificate. He wondered if he had a death certificate too.

"I made the machine. It took me more than a decade to create," he couldn't prove that, however. Not unless they went back to the scene. "It was a time machine... Maybe if I can go back..." Maybe he can salvage most of the machinery.

Vincent sighed and reached out to pat the other man's head. "I'm sorry, but I just can't believe you." That would mean that this man was one of the Creators, or an ancestor of the creators, or related to them. If that was true ... But it couldn't be, and the mind boggling thoughts creeping through his mind had no reason to be there.

"As for the machine, most such things are forbidden. I would think yours was too, since it seemed to be created for transportation." Amnesiac perhaps? No, the other man was delusional. Best to play along at least a little, to make sure this Lucian didn't get himself into too much trouble.

Lucian growled in frustration. Nothing he said could convince the man that what he said was true. He just wanted to go outside, back to his machine. But something told him that Vincent wouldn't let him. And the catman seemed to be very strong. Maybe Lucian could trick him...?

"Please, I have to go back to where you found me... I have something I left there... Besides, don't you want to report the machine to the proper authorities...? What if someone found it out there and used it...?"

He laughed. "We're in the middle of nowhere! There's no one to report to. And I grabbed everything of yours save the machine. We aren't going anywhere, not until tomorrow when I go do my rounds again. Leaving you alone here to get into trouble seems far from the best idea." Oh no, in his state the defect was probably going to get into a whole world of trouble. Even in the city, no especially there, Lucian would fall into pitfalls he had no idea about.

"I'll take you out to the city, alright? And if you can get some of the machines in the museums working, then things might be different." Lucian was certain to fail, Vincent was convinced of that. Still, to appease the man he would give him a chance at some of the forbidden things. Then he would have to face reality.

"The city...?" Lucian flopped back down on the bed, sighing heavily. It sounded as though Vincent was humouring him, but he hoped he could prove the man wrong. He wondered what types of machines they had, and hoped that they were ones he knew how to use. There were so many things he had yet to learn about the world. He couldn't drive, or fly a plane... He barely knew how to make his own dinner. He blinked back more tears as he thought about his home. What had happened to the city that he knew and loved? After a thousand years, it had become a wasteland.

"What happened here...? To the humans...?" he asked, his eyes tightly closed.

He nodded quickly with a sharp toothed grin. "Yes, the city." The defect seemed so upset .. The sooner his delusions were put to rest, the better. Now how could he answer without upsetting the other man even further? Lucian had no idea how to put things delicately. "They created us, genetically enhanced humans, hybrids as soldiers, adn then as playthings. Humans died out because of disease, plague, war, natural disasters, and the Creators changed, they survived. "

Each area had it's own story. This particular area had been ravaged by war, machinery, pollution and the mutants that had resulted from nuclear attacks. To tell the tale of everything would take so long ...

Lucian kept his eyes closed. It seemed so... Familiar. So all the environmental hippies were right. Nuclear war had destroyed them, genetically engineering had been the end of humankind. He wanted to know what Vincent meant by "Creators". It seemed these people were different from regular humans like himself. Perhaps they had changed themselves to survive in this world? His head started to throb again.

"Vincent, do you have a wife? A family?" he wanted to know more about this cat-like man.

Tilting his head in a quizzical way, the man considered the question. "I have neither. " Vincent twisted around. His fingers moved to jars of things cluttering up a haphazardly made shelf. There were leaves, husks of fruits and dried things, filling the glass container. Vincent's long hands picked up one thing, then the next, and then placed them back with a thunk.

At last he plucked up a jar and pulled from it what he'd been searching for. He put the still fresh leaves into a mortar, added a little of this and that, then began to grind everything together with a pestle. "This is for any bruises you might have," explained the man simply. His tail twitched, waved back and forth, as he worked. He couldn't stay so still for long.