Despite his best repair efforts amidst the injurious fanfare of cabin-mounted trumpets and oboes, the coupling had failed. His hideous invention yet hurtled forward, but for how long? Radical D peered out past the sweat and swelter to discover the square had been emptied. The many metal legs could no longer conceal their battle scars and the machine began to creak to a halt, leaving only the persistent ticking of a worn-out wristwatch. D's Quest would be cast aside, fragmented.