The old man stood tall against the playful summer breeze. It gently tugged at the white hairs of his beard, tickling his freckled skin like a token of nature's affection. There was no feeling he enjoyed better than the pressure of an amiable wind.

This man had all the characteristics of one weary from witnessing all the sorrow in the world: the permanent facial wrinkles of a grimace, a shaky stance from mistreated nerves, and thick grey eyebrows that, well…kinda made him look angry most of the time. He thought himself like a dried leaf: swept off its last landing spot, forever dragged onward by a humourless wind, and bits of it would gently break off along the journey until eventually there was nothing left.

But the wrinkles that were his skin were warm, and the frail remains of his muscles would work to maintain a kind smile until the bitter end… Plus, the eyebrows were somewhat endearing. With all that and the wind as his companion, this old man had reason enough to be very content indeed.

Opposite of him stood the girl seeming quite indifferent about the weather. Her bony frame was angled towards him, but her eyes were vacant and fixed on a point beyond his shoulder, as if uninterested. She was young and quite healthy, but was sadly without any valuable experiences, so this girl felt no sadness as they parted.

The man held out his hand. It was a weathered, veined hand that twitched and shook, but it was always warm and promising. The girl then placed her cold, much thinner hand in his, and shook it.

"I wish you the very best of luck," said the old man kindly.

"Thank you," she replied.

"I trust you will summon up every last bit of strength you have to do this," he said, never without sincerity.

"I will carry out this request," she said. "Afterwards, I will find you."

"Good," he said. "I will see you then…afterwards."

The breeze began to noticeably lose its strength. As if to spite its frailty, it forced one last gush of air, which lingered like the quiet sob of one who has accepted life's misery does.

There was an importance difference between these two characters: he lied, she did not.

≈ Chapter One: The Victim ≈

A boot was tied, a cloak was tightened, and two thick gloves were adjusted. The cold weather revealed human breath in streams of cloud while the resilient rain hammered down on the Fanelian valley. But to Van Fanel, this was the ideal weather to wait for someone out of doors. Don't ask why. He liked it, that's all.

But a small shaky vehicle pulled up in front of him all too soon. The carriage door opened and two men unceremoniously stumbled out of it, seeking shelter in the castle's entrance. Neither one noticed Van, nor that he was solid, until all three collided head on, ending up in a messy tangle of limbs.

"What the devil are you doing!" one cried.

"Watch your damn feet, boy!" someone else demanded.

"Stop screaming in my ear, for goodness's sake!" the other someone pleaded.

Somebody prodded somebody else, somebody else was kicked by the other trying to free his leg, and the boyish fighting ensued for a few painful moments.

"Wait!" exclaimed the first. "HEY! I said, WAIT! Stop trying to strangle me for a minute…if we must, let us bicker in shelter."

"Hang on…"

"Ouch!"

Three wet men stumbled up a set of stairs and sighed with relief, shielded from the shower by a wooden rooftop. They didn't dally for long. They exchanged some glances, grunts of greeting, and it was soon decided that a warm fire might be preferable to standing outside in the cold. Once or twice, someone might have attempted to converse. Then somebody else realized that it was well past midnight and time to go to sleep. What a waste of words.

Van escorted his guests to their rooms and politely asked the maid to see that they be properly dried and attended to. As he went to bed himself, he was grateful for the opportunity to rest so soon. It had been a long day and he was in no mood to play host, especially since his guests had come so unexpectedly. So you only can imagine how shocked and appalled Van was, not only to find that his guests were up at the crack of dawn, but that they were in his room, smothering his mouth, and shaking him awake rather violently.

"Van, please be quiet," whispered one man.

He was tall, blonde, and did his best to sound reassuring, which might have worked if the other hadn't a death grip on Van's face. So instead of settling down, His Majesty graciously attempted to communicate with some civility to his so-called friends through the five large, calloused fingers.

"Holy shit, what are you doing to me!"

"Gaddes, do you have to do that?" said the first quietly.

"It's kinda fun, sir," replied Gaddes.

"Cut it out, he's just a kid."

"Fine…hey! Hey! Shut up, will ya? OW!"

"That's enough!"

"Allen! Explain yourself!"

"Sir, HE BIT ME!"

It took some time, but when everyone settled down at last and the corridor was checked for the odd passer-by or eavesdropper, Van was told that it was urgent that he left the castle immediately.

"Why?"

"Van, there's no time…"

A loud creak came from what they hoped was a few rooms away. There was a moment's silence. At this, the men left at once. They climbed out of Van's bedroom window and edged along a thin ledge on the castle wall, hidden beneath a thick curtain of ivy. Van took hold of the vines, some protruding bricks, and slowly began to climb downwards. The other two followed, uncertainly.

Van soon stopped climbing and began searching for some grooves in the castle wall. When he found them, he dug his fingers into them and tugged sideways. It slid open to reveal a small opening just barely big enough to fit a full grown man. This was a childhood discovery of Van's which he had almost forgotten, and that always proved useful in his youth. The opening led to a weapon storage room from which they carefully made their way outside.

"I've arranged to meet some friends at Brahem tomorrow afternoon," said Allen, once they were safely inside the secluded woods. "Until then, we travel by foot."

No one wasted their breath complaining. Brahem was a small village two or three days by carriage if it followed the clear roadway which went all the way around the mountains and forest of the valley. Allen, however, wished to take the faster and less conspicuous route through the forest of a mountain pass. Even then, the journey was only shortened by a day, and if the three men wished to make their appointment in Brahem, most of their travel time would be spent sprinting. But for Van, it was the idea that they could little afford to spare time for chatting before reaching Brahem that was dampening, not the exercise. All he could do was trust his friend.

Hitomi opened her eyes slowly. She liked to lie fully awake with her eyes closed for several minutes before waking up. She didn't know why. She sat upright and looked around her room. Of what she was looking for, she didn't know – something unusual, perhaps.

This morning felt different than others. She had a dream of the old man again, but her body was aching with something strange. Her throat felt tight and the muscles in her abdomen were sore as if she'd been clenching them all night. There was some depressant agent that was weighing her down, and whatever it was, it made her eyes water very slightly. Only the Professor could make her feel such things.

More than that, however, Hitomi felt cold as she thought about her next meeting with the Professor. She was conscious of the emptiness within her. She was dreading something.

After sitting absolutely still for a moment or two, she rose from her bed and went to her bathroom. Whatever had happened just then, she had already dismissed and forgotten. She cleaned herself, left the bathroom, and then left her room.

Not every unit had private bathrooms in each quarter. Children often had to share a single bathroom situated in the hallway of their unit. Hitomi felt privileged to have her own bathroom, but didn't think she would mind sharing a bathroom with another as well. After the age of eleven, individuals are assigned to different sectors of the society where they are grouped with others being trained for similar occupations. Hitomi reasoned that she had never encountered any trainees like herself because their lessons were all scheduled at different times.

Hitomi's room led to a hallway, which led to a clear, tubular elevator. She took this and it led her to a vestibule with similar elevator shafts on either side. There were seven in all. She exited the room by the small door on the opposite wall.

Being outside was not much different from being in the units. There was perhaps more space and the occasional patch of green flooring. But the blank walls of the tunnel walkways emanated a strong glare that would only let Hitomi focus on her own movements. She did not enjoy this, and was always glad to reach the flat wall that was the end. As soon as she did, Hitomi was soon greeted by a black electronic panel.

A smooth voice soon filled the walkway and a small red light flickered between syllables. It doesn't matter. Hitomi was instructed to never pay too much attention to whatever the voice may say, although it always said the same thing:

"Greetings, Leis."

She pressed her designated key code onto the panel. The panel and a rectangle of white wall around it slid open, and Hitomi stepped inside.

Training was as it always was: information was fed to her brain in the most direct way possible. She was comfortable; there were no glaring walls to distract her. The subject matter seemed as meaningless as ever, but Hitomi could feel the changes happening in her mind. It was as if thoughts of nothingness were inflating their indistinguishable selves. This was a regular sensation. Everything is going well. Questions… Answers… Things… To Hitomi, these were memorized words without meaning. A "smile" is a physical distortion of the face used to express happiness, not to be confused with "simile," and nothing more.

A gentle ring sounded in a nearby speaker which meant that the learning session was over, and another smooth voice instructed her to proceed to the next station for a three minute recreational period. In the dark Recreation Room, there were large glowing posters on the walls. Hitomi wasn't sure what they depicted, but she often enjoyed staring at the abstract combinations of bright colours.

Going through this procession of rooms was how Hitomi spent the first half of every day. After the Recreation Room came the Food Court, which was a fairly long room containing a large rectangular table with several chairs tucked neatly underneath it. Every day, a small package of food would be placed in front of a different chair on which she was to promptly sit and eat. Next was the Examination Room where she would let herself be scanned by a thin red light.

After all of that, she would meet with her designated tutor and do a series of random tasks. Sometimes they were to work with small instruments she didn't recognize and dissect a number of rubbery objects. She practiced knots, and stacked heavy boxes. Other times she had been asked to tie rope around a chair, connect it to a pulley and hoist herself upwards on it. This session could last as long 45 minutes, or be as short as 5 minutes. At the end, she would be given her full evaluation for the day and was then sent for a quick medical examination. When her results were good or above average, Hitomi would momentarily feel pleased with herself. If they were not, which wasn't often, the next day's tasks would be much longer and she would be given extra medication. On this day in particular, Hitomi's performances were slightly below her average.

"Your level of productivity has decreased," said the tutor. "Explain yourself."

Hitomi had been told this before, and was once instructed by someone not to answer, so she never did. She waited silently and without worry for the command to proceed to the Health Center. She didn't get one. Surprised, Hitomi was instead sent to the Infirmary and her tutor gave her a red access card. The striking crimson colour seemed to burn into her eyes.

This was very unfamiliar procedure to Hitomi. She was always prepared for anything she should encounter well in advance, and this was very strange protocol. Hitomi abruptly felt her heartbeat quicken and a chill trickled down her spine as she moved down an unfamiliar walkway. Her stomach hurt in a way that wasn't painful but a little nauseating, and she wondered if she was ill. No, she was fearful, but that word hadn't occurred to her in thinking of a description of her feeling. For once, her memory completely failed her, and Hitomi was consumed entirely by the sensation. Each time she changed elevators or corridors, the feeling worsened.

With an unexplainable jolt of panic, Hitomi saw a strange light coming in from some glass windows ahead and ran to it without thinking. She looked outside and realized two things: she had exited the Activity Building altogether for the first time in her life, and that what she felt was a familiar sensation of dread.

Van tightened his cloak which, he realized, he luckily still had on in his haste to sleep the night before. His boots sunk right into the ground, muddy from the night before, but somehow he managed to keep up with Allen's frantic pace. All three men were breathing heavily but refused to show any other sign of wanting to rest. They were sprinting, jogging, or striding, without pattern; it was all according to however Allen felt like moving at that instance. The only thing they did regularly was rest to eat.

Erratic pacing was not Allen's usual method of travel, and Van wondered, as they stopped for a drink at a spring, what could be so serious that Allen was this troubled. In a sudden moment of paranoia, Van wildly thought they were fleeing from a coming invasion which Fanelia's proud but small forces could do little to arrest.

He glared at Allen for a moment, wondering fiercely why he would trick him into committing such an act of cowardice. But Allen's perpetually thoughtful face revealed nothing other than that the issue was a matter of urgency, and Van was comforted in concluding that his friend would only make decisions for him if the situation was completely out of Van's control.

The sun was steadily rising judging from the growing light of the sky, but the air was still damp and cold. There was still quite some time to pass before midday, and Van wondered how much distance they had covered. He had asked Allen this only to be dismissed with an extremely vague answer; also inconsistent with Allen's usual manner.

Van was starting to grow impatient. He disliked being ignorant of circumstances which he was quite clearly involved in. Who wouldn't? Van may even be able to contribute something, but could not because Allen was treating him like a child – something that would not be unusual of Allen to do. Perhaps Allen thought that to trust Van was not acting in his best interest, thought Van bitterly. Well, Van refused to give Allen the satisfaction of having him dumbly cooperate.

"Alright, you two, I've had enough of this," said Van, with as much seriousness as he could muster. "Tell me what the hell is going on!"

"Shut up, boy," snapped Gaddes at once. "And move faster!"

Van felt himself go red in the face. To be called 'boy' so instinctively was deeply insulting to Van, who felt he'd always been unfairly denied the right to a manly independence by older men and women alike. His entire face contorted into an ugly glare. Now was being insulted for it when he was so frustrated about this lack of control to begin with! Van was burning all over in anger and self-pity. He was right about these condescending men he'd considered friends. They'd been quick to assume that Van was incapable of anything beyond eating and reading, just as the Fanelian elders did.

But just when Van was about to explode with resentment, he recalled a certain drunken remark made to him that he'd tried to forget for three years.

"You were never soldier material, my boy! Just stay home and leave the wars to us, ha ha ha!"

Van suddenly felt a sickening sense of shame creep into his stomach. …He did have one chance to completely break ties with everything in his life that held him back. And the results of this chance were a very painful reminder indeed that men like Allen and Gaddes had good reason to decide for him the way that they did. Van's anger disappeared at once and he dwelled silently on this humbling memory. He was so ashamed that he couldn't even notice Allen's sharp look to Gaddes, nor Gaddes's surprise from the absence of Van's retaliation.

This was not some petty adventure like the kind in which Van always fantasized he'd prove himself through a remarkable act of bravery and strength. Van decided he would be firm with himself about that. Allen and Gaddes were helping him avoid something dangerous, and there was no time for settling his childish desire to be taken seriously.

In a small square room with a low ceiling, a uniformed man was sitting by an impressive computer-system. The room had a faint but permanent smell of coffee, as its occupants were rarely without it, and sure enough, there was a grey mug half-full of the now lukewarm liquid. Unfortunately, the man seemed too exhausted to be revived by any amount of caffeine he should take in. Nonetheless, he was typing into the computer as quickly as he could while alternately speaking into a mouthpiece on his black headset.

After a few tense moments of working, the man leaned back in his chair, stretched out his arms, and yawned widely. With great effort, he reached for his mug and began to drain it so that it wouldn't be sitting out any longer. But halfway through, he suddenly stopped drinking, put the mug down, and looked around the room.

He thought he had heard an unusual noise behind him, just then…perhaps not. He sighed. The man dearly wished the take a break, but daybreak was an unusually important time for these people, and some very important transactions happened at this time.

A small, blinking red icon appeared at the bottom right of the screen. Clicking on it, the man was told that the wind pressure in one of the air vents was decreasing. He groaned aloud – some stupid animal must have wandered in one of the ventilation shafts again, and was blocking it. Each sector had a different system of vents, and since only two or three people in each sector were up overseeing transactions at this time, he would have to take care of it himself.

He searched for the room nearest the blocked vent and the number of his working room popped up. Hoping it wasn't a bird, he crossed to the back of the room were the shaft opening was, and lifted its metal door open. The opening was the bottom of a vertical shaft that was too dark to see anything.

Blink. Blink. Blink. Another icon appeared on the screen – the fan for his ventilation shaft was broken.

"Damn, damn, damn!" he cried in panic.

A broken fan was a little more serious. The animal had probably gotten caught in it. Now it would take that much longer for the other fans to circulate the air in this sector. The man grabbed a phone to call up someone from Machinery Repair while simultaneously entering some password-requiring commands onto the computer, opening up their channel of air to a nearby sector.

He didn't even have time to dial the number, however, before something solid hit the bottom of the shaft as if it were a landing. The man froze from shock, but only for a moment. In the next instance, he whirled around and pulled out a pistol.

No one was there.

Sweating profusely, he gyrated on the spot and scanned the room – nothing. And then, a moment too late, he jerked his head upwards to see something dark land on his shoulders and knock him right out.

The intruder did not need to gather her bearings. She picked up the guard's unusual weapon, remembering how he held it, and darted out of the room.

She found herself in a white corridor with seven numbered doors, and an eighth that read, 'Exit Surface Control Center'. She took this door, which lead to a room full of glass tubes that she did not recognize. A large number 75 was painted in black on the wall. Someone suddenly glided down from one of the tubes, and the front of the glass slid open. He was about to step out until he saw the intruder, but he barely screamed before he suffered a blow to the side of his neck with a small club.

The intruder observed the glass carefully. A red arrow pointing downwards blinked beside it, which could only mean that stepping into it would take her downwards. She was hesitant, however, not knowing how to work the foreign controls inside it.

"We have an intruder in the Surface Control Center!" someone cried desperately. "Estimated level 78…"

The intruder heard this voice coming from a small black box attached to the hip of the unconscious man. She thought quickly. They were three levels off, not yet knowing that she took the ventilation shaft, so she must take advantage of this extra time and descend quickly. She ran into the elevator and hastily selected the floor fifteen floors below hers, hoping it would take her someplace useful.

The glass room plunged with considerable speed and she was at the sixtieth floor in what felt like no time at all. The door slid open and she was in the same kind of elevator room, but instead of the number sixty, the word 'INFIRMARY' was painted on the wall in giant black letters.

There, someone appeared to be waiting for her. He was dressed in a white lab coat, wore black rubber gloves, and spoke to her.

"Leis?" he said. "Why have you not come from the Activity Building?"

Without pausing to understand this, the intruder knocked this man out as well.

Hitomi knew where she was being sent.

It was not simply the Infirmary, but the Surgery Room. She once had a dream about the Surgery Room, and the Professor had told her it was a real experience that she had somehow forgotten. Hitomi refused to believe the Professor then, but was now convinced that he was right.

The red access card appeared in her dream, and she was also sent out of the Activity Building then, too. Once she reached the Infirmary, a strange-looking man led her into the Surgery Room and told her to lie on a table. They asked her to breathe into a plastic cup-like device that made her body numb and her vision clouded, but she was still awake. In this drug-induced state, her head rolled lazily down to her shoulder and she looked around the room.

The first sight that met her eyes was horrifying.

A man was being similarly worked on close by, but this man soon proved to be much different from her. This man was strangely round and bulging around the torso, reminding Hitomi vaguely of this picture of a pregnant female. His limbs were held in position with large metal cuffs, and he was screaming and writhing with pain in such a way that frightened Hitomi, but she couldn't look away. Then she saw him change before her very eyes.

In one moment, his face was scrunched in agony and he tried desperately to free himself from his binds. In one moment, he was still human. But in the next, his entire body burst itself open in bloody gashes, revealing some kind of creature that was clearly tearing itself out of its human cage. The men surrounding it backed away hurriedly.

Blood and ripped flesh flew about everywhere as this monster thrashed and thrashed. It was held down by a tight belt around its middle that was doing little to stop its violent tantrum. The thing was greyish and small, but muscular, with limbs and a face covered with sharp spikes. Blood was dripping from its long, sharp teeth as it if had been feasting on the man's insides. It's completely white eyeballs seemed to roll around madly in their sockets until two tiny black pupils revealed themselves. They stopped rolling and were suddenly fixed hungrily on Hitomi.

Hitomi desperately tried to move away, but was held in place with the same metal bindings. The creature continued to howl and thrash, splattering more blood on the floor. Panicking, she begged the men around her for help, but they instead approached her with a number of sharp cutting tools. Hitomi thought about the agonized face of that man and panicked even more. She wanted to squirm away. She wanted to put herself as far as possible from the newly born demon. She wanted somebody to stop that new sharp pain in her mind. Anybody!

Hitomi was helpless as she watched the men press their tools into her skin. She should have felt nothing, but her mind called up more of its own pain as if to compensate, and her threshold for pain was reaching its peak. Hitomi tried not to watch herself get cut open and was close to fainting. Her fresh blood seemed to further entice the beast, which cried out more than ever. Red hot tears were streaming down her face. Her head felt ready to explode with pain, and she wanted everything to end.

Hitomi opened her eyes wide and she screamed.

"STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!"

The intruder smothered the girl at once, muffling the sound. She wrestled her for a moment and forced her back into the elevator. Struggling for breath, Hitomi saw a man through the glass lying on the floor with his eyes shut, and realized he was one of the ones from her dream. She screamed again as the intruder pushed the button for the 79th floor. The intruder immediately struck Hitomi's face, and Hitomi fell painfully against the glass wall of the elevator. Her eyes watered and Hitomi began shaking uncontrollably.

"Be silent and do as I say or I'll break your fingers off," said the intruder, twisting Hitomi's arm behind her.

Hitomi bit down on her lip from the pain, but did not cry out again. They were passing floors at lightning speed, and the intruder seemed briefly satisfied.

"Move, now!" snapped the intruder when they arrived at their floor.

The intruder roughly grasped her frightened prisoner's upper arm. She pulled Hitomi out of the elevator and took them through a hardly visible door behind it, leading to a wide ventilation shaft. She fastened Hitomi to her waist with some leather straps and proceeded to climb up the vent on a knotted rope that she undoubtedly left there. After several minutes of hard work, they reached an opening that the intruder kicked open and swung into.

The room was dimly lit and filled with large metal pipelines. The intruder opened a thick round door to their left that was just big enough for someone to crawl through. She turned a large metal wheel to open it, and as it opened, the most putrid stink filled their unfortunate nostrils.

"Hurry up!" hissed the intruder, who shoved Hitomi through it headfirst.

Hitomi gasped as she fell forward and slammed onto a moist platform a few feet below the small door. Beyond that, she could see nothing. All she knew was the overpowering stench, and the sound of running water. The intruder was at her side at once and sealed the door shut with another wheel. She grabbed Hitomi by the arm once again and began sprinting into the darkness, letting Hitomi stagger clumsily to her feet.

The intruder soon lit a flashlight, something she had some difficulty with in the dark, and Hitomi suddenly understood where they were. She gagged – they were in a sewage system! The intruder already seemed accustomed to the smell, however, and forced her to move on.

Hitomi was breathless by this point. She'd done exercising routines in the Activity Building before, but none this rigorous. Her limbs were all sore and she was bruised from being shoved, hit, and dragged around so much.

The two of them stopped running after some time, and the intruder's flashlight shone on a small row boat. The intruder pushed the boat into the watery waste and ordered Hitomi to get in. Hitomi was uneasy as she stepped into it. She tried not to think about the fluids that swam past them as the intruder rowed through it all. Then the intruder began to speak.

"Now that you and I have made contact, these people no longer see you as one of their own," she said tonelessly. "Anyone who chases me from this point on has every intention of killing you as well. If you want to live, you need to listen to everything I tell you."

Hitomi was speechless. This woman was cruel for saying such things to her. Why were these terrible things happening to her? How could anyone from her facility want her dead? She was taken against her will! She never meant to be disobedient, and surely they would understand that!

And yet, every word the intruder said had made some sense. Perhaps it was because of what she'd seen those men do in the Surgery Room that Hitomi thought it possible. None of those men were as disturbed as she to see that patient die, nor even surprised. Hitomi thought about any tutor she'd ever had, or any person she'd ever encountered, and only recalled their indifferent behaviour towards her. She felt cold inside. They may not mind killing her after all. In such a case, there very well could be nowhere for her to go.

But before Hitomi could think about her situation for another moment, the boat hit something solid. The intruder suddenly stopped paddling. She let the boat float slowly forwards and was listening intently for another sound. Hitomi tried to listen too, but only heard distant sounds of running water. Seconds passed in silence, and then…

THUMP.

There it was again. This time it was harder and sharper, as if something propelled itself toward the boat as an attack. The intruder put one of the paddles down into the boat, and held the other like a club. She began scanning the dark water around them. Hitomi didn't dare move or make a sound.

Hitomi fixed her eyes on a spot of water to her right. She was too afraid to look around and see something unpleasant. But as if someone had read her mind, something within the water flashed into appearance and disappeared right away. The intruder looked that way as well, hearing the splash. She carefully motioned for Hitomi to pick up the other paddle.

Hitomi, carelessly thinking that the intruder wanted her to move the boat, plunged the paddle into the waste water before she could be stopped. All of a sudden, something rammed into the piece of wood and Hitomi lifted it out of the water at once.

Attached to the paddle was a fat water demon. Hitomi looked at the intruder who was already raising her paddle to hit the demon. The demon was an ugly little thing with purplish skin and short tentacles with white suckers underneath. Attached to it was a jagged kind of shell, and the creature was oozing a thick white mucus that smoked as it crept down the paddle. The intruder wasted not another second and deftly knocked it off into the water.

"Help me paddle quickly," she said to Hitomi. "We've angered it and it will bring more mutated sea creatures if we linger. We're almost there."

Both of them worked furiously to move the boat. At first, they kept moving too far to the left because Hitomi couldn't paddle as well as the other, and eventually had to alternate sides to keep a steady direction. They were moving a lot faster than before, at least, which was good because their boat was getting hit more and more frequently now. Every now and then, Hitomi would accidentally hit a water demon with her paddle and hoped that none had chosen to attach themselves to it.

Hitomi was breathing with difficulty again. Not only was each breath painful, but it meant inhaling gulps of that undesirable reek over and over. She could hear more splashing creatures and almost felt all of them swarming around the boat. The intruder must have noticed it as well, because she put on a sudden burst of speed and urged Hitomi to do so as well. The boat was getting harder to move, and the water levels getting closer to its brim. Was it somehow getting heavier?

"That's where we need to get off," said the intruder, pointing with her flashlight to a large tunnel.

The water was an inch away from the brim of the boat. Larger splashes flung some of the diluted waste into the boat, only making the girls paddle harder. Heavier things were knocking into their boat, sometimes pushing them forward a little. More water spilt into the boat. Almost there…

At last, the boat hit the opening of the tunnel. It was just as they heard something piercing the bottom, making them jump. The intruder scrambled out of the boat, nearly tipping it over, and hauled Hitomi out with her. As the two of them dashed down the dry tunnel, Hitomi looked over her shoulder and glimpsed their boat getting upturned and splintered into pieces.

They reached a ladder indented in a wall and both were soon climbing out of a barred opening. The first breath of fresh air felt glorious as it passed through Hitomi's lungs. They had no time to rest, however.

The intruder crept behind an enormous shipment box and Hitomi followed suit. She took a good look around, but the only things she saw were airships. They were at a station of some kind, and there was a cement floor beneath their feet, but no walls and no roof. Hitomi looked up and saw a glimpse of something dark blue beyond the ships.

"Do you see those trees over there?" muttered the intruder, pointing to the edge of a dense forest. "Our goal is to reach them safely. If they see us, we'll be killed instantly."

Bit by bit, hiding behind boxes, under wagons, feeling tense and afraid for their lives, they made their way towards the forest. There were men patrolling the perimeter of the cemented area, and passing them would be hardest. The trick was to go just as they were switching stations. The girls moved as close to the guards as they could. As they did, they overheard a message one of them received on his radio set.

"The top fifteen levels are cleared … level 55 is sealed off … a subject taken prisoner … may be trying to escape … They are to be shot on sight..."

"Now!" mouthed the intruder.

She leapt up from her hiding spot and knocked out one guard with her club. He fell down and noisily knocked over a table. Two more men whirled around in their direction, pulling out their guns. The intruder tried using the pistol she had stolen, but, not expecting such force in firing, she shot the ground instead. Casting it aside, she pulled out a short dagger and threw it expertly, hitting one guard just above his knee. As he crumpled to the ground, they ran for it.

They zigzagged across the open grass as fast as their legs would go when the other guards began to fire at them. They were a hundred paces from the forest's edge, and bullets showered the ground around them, getting closer each time. The intruder swore, and shoved Hitomi ahead of her to encourage some speed. Just as she was taking her hand off Hitomi's back, a bullet went right through her shoulder. She cried out from the intense pain but kept running like before. Hitomi turned to look at her, but was yelled at to keep moving.

More bullets came at them and Hitomi was less than ten paces away from the safety of the trees, but the intruder was falling behind. Frightened, Hitomi grabbed her uninjured arm and heaved her forward, despite the intruder's protests.

BANG. BANG.

One bullet hit a tree and the other went right through the intruder's stomach, leaving the pair to stumble into the woods. Hitomi winced as the other woman let out a deafening cry, but refused to stop moving them both. Hitomi half-carried the dying woman as far as she could into the forest before the intruder fell over and pulled Hitomi down with her.

They were both cut and bruised, but Hitomi still scrambled to get the woman back onto her feet. She would not have it, however, and shoved Hitomi away with what little strength she had left. They were both covered in the intruder's blood, and Hitomi began panicking. The intruder was gasping and crying, and covered the fatal wound feebly with her hands. Hitomi felt like crying out as well, but remembering her order to stay silent, she just covered her mouth with her bloody hands.

"Take these," said the intruder with great difficulty.

The intruder's face was streaming with tears and she seemed to be hiccupping as she spoke. Hitomi was tossed her leather belt, to which was attached a number of things Hitomi paid no attention to. Next, the intruder drew from her an inner breast pocket a compass, and told Hitomi to follow the arrow and go north.

"GO, you stupid girl," she spat with gritted teeth. "Don't get caught."

Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she stopped moving.

Author's Note:

Hello! Thanks so, so much for reading chapter one. It's been a while since I've written anything on so needless to say my story writing needs some work. Reading it over a couple of times, I realized that there's something lacking in my descriptions, and I hope I haven't bored the pants off anyone. If so, have this staple as a token of my appreciation:

Criticism is always very welcome, though I do ask you to be as specific as possible.

This is a re-write of one of my stories that long-time users might recognize. I've decided to take this project up again because I need the practice, but need a clean slate. It was inspired by Lois Lowry's classic novel The Giver. I suppose that whole "isolated society with no colour or emotion" idea comes from the book, but I like to think it's significantly different. I'm terribly sorry if whatever damage I've done (or will do) here may in some way butcher the novel, but please keep in mind that I'm just a loser writing for fun.