Gregor

As the bus known as 'Mephistopheles' kept vrooming along, Gregor looked out at the world beyond the glass. Humanity was not exactly thriving in this Nest, perhaps there was a time when it had, a time when the world was beautiful, where he had been happy. But it was a fantasy in his worn-down mind.

Gregor could feel his insectile arm shift and twitch, itching for action, always at his disposal. It kind of made his skin crawl, like when someone sees a bug in their kitchen. Disgusting.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes and thinking. But then, a sound reached his ears, a voice.