In a city, far away and over sea, he sits against an ancient wall. Tourists ponder by; "This impressive helmeted statue dates to..."
He thinks back, before the world was cast wide open by hums and roars to whirling footsteps, and metal beasts that grind and lift and glide. Ivy peels away, leaves float up to trees and shrink, every Winter loosens his limbs, every Summer fades his cracks, people grow quieter; rarer; sadder. The tunnel behind him remains concealed. His people escaped, their country remains undiscovered. He remains.
The guard remembers his last orders. He never forgets.