Boring, dull, I wish something would happen. Sweet seventeen, an age where boredom is worse than death. The world is peaceful and always tedious to a fault, and in the nearly 17 years since I was born, nothing special has ever happened.

That day, while secretly swiping pieces of scrap metal from the junk shop owner's pile just to mess with him, I found a strange machine. It was covered in dust, the paint on some buttons was peeling, and I couldn't even guess what it was for. ...The size was just right to fit in a pocket. I quickly stuffed the old machine into my pocket and ran outside aimlessly.

I ran to a field where the stars were clearly visible and sat down. I shook the machine in my pocket, touched it, and held it to my ear—

The thing was, a voice could be heard!