312 Dragoon

Two metallic gates with the number six in a bold red font plastered on the wall. An empty table on which rested a few empty bottles of alcohol. All around, cartons and a singular used chair. The user, a man who continually peered through the bottle of whiskey he held. 

 'Is that what remains of the famed GateSix?' wondered Staxius who took a long stare. People around were curious by the famed Company. 

 "It's a shame that GateSix turned out this way," whispers came from the next booth, "-the leader has turned to a life of drinking. His last project was supposed to revolutionize the world of aerial combat. What remains is nothing but a shell and an incomplete diagram. The theory behind how he wishes the engine to be built hasn't even been created yet. What a fall from grace," they said without heed. Each time the words flew to the man's ear, he'd look up with a look of despair fueled by anger, then stare back down.