Changes
Changes
It had been a few months since the fall of the Ziggurat, and it was not only Metropolis that seemed to be affected, but all of the Zones beneath had suffered greatly as well. What was once a magnificent Mega City was how a decaying wasteland to remind everyone of the past. Buildings were brittle, and many had collapsed even after the initial fall of the Ziggurat. Corpses of robots and humans alike were scattered this way and that, most dieing from disease, malnutrition or - in the case of the robots - neglect. It seemed surprising that the effects of more long-term poverty had settled in so quickly, though at the same time not surprising considering the poor conditions of the Zones and the more poverty-stricken citizens when they mingled with the more healthy and upper-classed citizens. Disease quickly spread and to make matters worse a portion of the food supply had become infested with rodents and subsequently thrown many of the citizens into a state of panic, buying as much food as they could to eat and putting food businesses out of work. The wise stored their food, though the foolish who managed to get their clutches on the precious resource gobbled it up and soon faced starvation. It was the rest who survived the initial chaos and death of the destruction who lived to see slightly better days. Food and other supplies were to be shipped in once a week and stored in whatever buildings that seemed to be sustainable. It was only the smaller buildings of possibly three or four stories high that survived – though there were very few. The Upper Metropolis area was getting cleansed of all of the small businesses and if the city had survived another few months would have succeeded. These buildings, though, were old and ravaged. It was a miracle that most had survived at all past the initial collapse.
The sun never shone over the city after that day. It was always cloudy, and gave the survivors a depressed sort of demeanor which added to the despair of the calamity. A third of the survivors had left – though they were only those who had enough wealth to buy a passage to another town. The rest of the people would be forced to live in the dead city and survive or die on their own. These were a majority of the people who lived under Upper Metropolis and in the Zones. A so-called working class, and even scum of the city, they were the majority of the now the sole inhabitants. The Zones in which they lived in were badly damaged by the collapse. Being underground, many entranceways through the Zones both to areas within the Zones and to and from other Zones were blocked. Some people were trapped within their homes, probably with only the corpses of their loved ones for company until someone found them and brought them out and into the ravaged world in which they would have to live.
Though everything seemed as though things would only become worse as the days went by, that didn't stop some people from trying to pick up the pieces. Out in the open and the rubble of the Ziggurat and nearby buildings, a few people worked. One of these people was Atlas, the young rebel leader who had been shot and seriously injured during the entire mess. His father was a doctor, and was able to patch him up and extract the bullet before Atlas died. It had been a close call, and Atlas didn't remember a whole lot of the events of that day or the few days to follow. But he did know that if it wasn't for his younger sister, whom had found him, he would be dead. His sister worked as a nurse in his father's hospital – one of the few remaining small buildings in Upper Metropolis, which had been in danger of being shut down for good. Both his father and sister had begged him to work as a nurse in the hospital after he lost his job, but he knew that the job would soon be lost as the hospital went under. The fact that it was becoming increasingly difficult and almost near impossible to get a job was why he had fought against the Mardukes and Duke Red. Now, it was he himself that was picking up the pieces of that mini-revolution.
Atlas looked over his shoulder to his younger sister, Charissa. She had been out searching for survivors since the first hour of the initial collapse. It had been her shift during that time, and when she had found him, she had been biking around in search of her older brother in order to beg him once again to join the hospital. He was thankful that she had not stayed around long enough to be injured by the collapse. But even with the actual devastation over and done with, it still was a dangerous place. He always kept a close eye on her in case if the rubble shifted or a building looked too dangerous.
Charissa herself looked nothing like Atlas or their father. She was sixteen with dirty blonde hair that fell just past her shoulder blades and sea-green eyes which had been inherited from their mother. She wasn't at all like neither of the males in her family in terms of body structure, either. She was an indefinite specimen of feminism, though at the moment she was wearing Atlas's old clothes in order to dig through the rubble, she looked larger than she actually was. She was determined to sort through everything that was in her way, and finding the bodies of still breathing people had only fueled her passion. It had brought satisfaction to her to know that because of her, those people were getting medical attention from her father, and most likely going to survive. She had even found a young boy trapped in the debris of a fallen building near the broken up pieces of some sort of robot. It was apparent that he was trying to find remains of something, though she didn't know what. She had decided to take his collection of parts to her grandfather, whom was in turn fixing up a badly damaged robot that she had found earlier on. What had freaked her out about the robot, though, was how life like it was, even when badly damaged.
Charissa sighed and straightened herself after what seemed like a long time of bending down to look through the debris, causing her back to throb in protest to her hard labour. As she did so, her foot shifted a loose concrete slab, which caused a slight cave in behind her. She yelped in surprise and spun around. This caused Atlas to look up from his job to see what the commotion was about. He chuckled to himself when he saw that she had only startled herself. But by shifting the rubble accidentally, Charissa was able to catch a glimpse of something coloured amongst the gray slabs of the rubble. It was a hand – though a battered and badly injured hand. Some of the fingers seemed to be broken and large parts of the flesh were gouged out. Panic immediately came to Charissa, as she knew that this person must be badly injured – if even still alive.
"Oh my god!" She gasped, kneeling down to where the hand lay. She began to dig through the rubble, clearing out the smaller pebbles and cobbles before trying to lift the larger pieces off of the body. The fruits of her labour soon gave way to the body of a boy around her age. He had short but messy brown hair, which his bangs seemed to curl around his forehead. Shattered sunglasses hid his eyes, which Charissa probably figured cut through his lids and into his eyes. He was badly wounded, and seemed to have lost a lot of blood. The concrete all around him was soaked in blood, and for the most part it seemed as though the dried up blood from the colder stone had probably stopped most of the initial leakage from his body – possibly keeping him alive. Though as she dug him out, there was no sign of movement on his part, and a lump formed in her throat as she revealed more of his battered body. She knelt onto her knees, her hands on either side of his face, and could feel the cold dried blood under her hands. She tried to not think about it as she lowered her face to his. On her cheek she could feel the slight warm breath that spilled from his mouth in short, weak rasps. He was alive, at least and that was all that was needed to destroy the lump that had formed. Relief came to her face as she stood up, calling out to her brother.
"Atlas! ATLAS!" She called, trying to drag the boy's body out. Atlas had come running over, knowing that she had found a body that still seemed to have life in it. He had almost fallen over, though, when he treaded over a loosened slab, thus forcing him to walk more carefully, minding the slabs lest he fall and injure himself. When he saw the face of the boy that his sister was holding in her arms, he immediately turned from them in disgust.
"Leave him, Charissa. He doesn't deserve to live." Atlas growled; his dislike for the boy could clearly be heard in the tone of his voice. Charissa looked up disbelievingly at him, not understanding why he was saying such things. With a stubborn look on her face, seeing as her brother wasn't going to help her, she continued to haul him away from the site. Atlas grabbed her arm, trying to get her away from him. "No, Charissa! He'll kill you!" She ripped her arm from his grasp, glaring at him.
"Just what is so dangerous about him, Atlas? I work for father's hospital, so it is my job to see it that all survivors from the incident live, regardless of what you or anyone else thinks!"
"Father wouldn't want the Marduke who did all of this in his hospital!" Charissa gasped. She stopped tugging at the teen's body and look up at her brother. This one boy did all of the damage to Metropolis? He was the one that ruined so many lives and made everything seem so desperate? Honestly he couldn't cause too much trouble for her father's hospital. She could tell just by looking at him that he was seriously injured. Not only did he most likely have a good amount of broken bones, but he would have to go through surgery in order to get him back to normal. There were many parts of his body that was badly burned, and even his clothes seemed to melt into his skin to some degree. And she couldn't just leave knowing that she could have saved his life. That notion would haunt her for the rest of her life.
"Well," She said softly, her voice low and trembling. She hesitated, choosing the rest of her words carefully. "Let's just hope that he will change his mind, and won't kill me. It doesn't matter if he was responsible for all of this damage. He's still alive, Atlas, and father taught me to do my best to save lives no matter who they are. So, can you please help me, Atlas?" Atlas let out a small groan of complaint, but then sighed, grabbing the Marduke's arm.
"You are the most stubborn and caring girl I have ever known. Not even a Marduke such as this will change your mind, it seems…" Charissa smiled, glad that Atlas had finally agreed to help her. "Let's just hope that you're right about this guy. He's going to be your responsibility, though." Charissa nodded, helping her brother get the seemingly harmless boy and the other survivors that had been found to the hospital.
Rock woke to the sound of birds chirping merrily to the morning, and the sweet smell of lilies that seemed to fill the air around him. Slowly moving his head towards the origin of the scent, the first thing that his dazzling sapphire blue eyes upon was a sixteen-year-old girl, whom was tending to the source of the smell. She had shoulder length dirty blonde hair, which was tied in a ponytail. She was wearing a rather cute nurse outfit. The material was all white, starting at the knee-high leather lace-up boots. A mini skirt softly twirled around her legs as she moved to the little tune she was humming to herself. The skirt was connected by straps to a sleeveless low-cut shirt. There were small slits at the sides that shown a few centimeters of her stomach. The outfit was lined with a soft blush pink, no doubt from incidents where it was mixed with coloured clothes in the washing machine. The gloves that she wore on her hands stretched to her elbows, completing the outfit. A dim but hazy light shone from the window, outlining her figure and deepening the shadows to show every detail.
He turned his gaze away from her to see exactly where he was, slight panic started to flow through his body. He instinctively reached for his gun; though found that it was no longer at his side. His glasses and gun had been taken away, and his blood stained and torn clothes had been replaced with a hospital gown. The room itself was rather homey. Everything seemed to be kept in order. There was a small desk to the left side of the bed with a mirror, and was made of lovingly polished oak. The sheets and quilt on top of him, he could feel, were thin and airy; making the bed have a soft and comfortable feeling like one would never want to move. The temperature was perfect in the room, and there was soft music playing in the speakers. It was loud enough for if someone just wanted to lay back and listen, though soft enough for someone to fall asleep if desired.
Rock himself felt a little drowsy and sick to the stomach. His vision was blurred slightly, and it seemed like every inch of his body was screaming in pain. He could feel that the pain was there, though he guessed that he had an injection of painkillers in order to make it more tolerable. There was food on a tray for him just beside him on the night stand, which seemed to be fresh and placed there not even ten minutes ago.
Slowly, Rock sat up, ignoring the pain and grabbed the tray of food. He couldn't say that he was anything less than starving. He didn't know when it was that he had last eaten. How long he had been in this place. The last thing that he remembered at all was pushing the detonator for the Ziggurat. As if feeling that he was awake, the girl whom was tending the flower turned around.
"Ah! So you're awake, huh? You know you have me quite a fright when I found you." She sat herself down on a chair that was beside the bed. "My name is Charissa, who might you be?"
"Rock." He stated, shortly. She scrunched up her nose, though still had a smile on her lips.
"Is it spelt Roc as in a giant phoenix, or Rock as in a boulder?" She asked.
"Boulder." Charissa let out a small giggle.
"Well, my brother said that you were the one who caused the Ziggurat to collapse. Is that really true?" Rock glared at her momentarily as he worked on his soup. He kept his head down at all times, not looking at her straight in the eye.
"It was an accident. I was trying to kill a robot that I knew wasn't as perfect as my father thought. She malfunctioned, as I feared she would." His voice was cold, hatred for the robot was apparent in his voice.
"Wow, you must be really brave to cope with a malfunctioning robot! I wish I was as brave as you." Rock moved to grab a drink from the nightstand, and the tray began to slip from his lap. Charissa quickly stood from her chair and caught the tray before his food spilled all over the place. Rock stiffened when she did this, which he got another giggle in response.
"I'm not going to bite, you know." Rock blushed slightly at her comment. She sighed, straightening out her skirt, which had gotten ruffled when she leaned over the bed. "Well, I better get back to work. It's only me, my father and my brother working at this place." Rock then realized that the place that he was in right now was a hospital. Not just any hospital, but a small little family-run business that his father was about to shut down for a more important building that he wanted to establish after the completion of the Ziggurat and Tima on the throne. This was the first time that he had been inside, himself. And now, he was thankful that his father hadn't the time to shut it down before the collapse.
"Who's your brother?" As if he had been cued, Atlas walked into the room. Rock glared at him, obviously remembering the Revolution Leader pest that he had shot the day of the collapse.
"Atlas!" Charissa jumped up and hugged Atlas' neck. He flinched and clutched his sore bullet wound on his stomach. Charissa backed off. "Oops… Sorry."
"Charissa, you should get back to work. Besides, I don't trust him, even without a gun." Charissa hugged, but followed her brother out of the room anyways. She turned to face Rock before she closed the door.
"See you later, Boulder Boy." She joked. Rock just stared at the place where she had been, an emotionless look on his face, though rather confused as to her attitude and actions. He could hear her footsteps going into the room next to his.
"Hey, Kanichi; are you ready to talk to me now?" Kanichi! He was the little pest who helped the damned robot, Tima. What was he doing here at the Hospital of all places? Anger boiled in Rock' veins, thinking about the little brat and the robot, and how everything seemed to go wrong because of him.
"I was looking for my friend. She's a robot, you see…" Kanichi's voice was small and hoarse, but could still be heard through the walls.
"A robot you say?" Charissa asked. There was a short pause.
"Yes. She was more advanced than most robots. She looked human more than any of the others. I don't think that she survived the fall from the Ziggurat, though…" Rock could hear her replying with 'mhm's' and uh-huh's.
"It seems that there are quite a lot of people in this hospital that are mixed with technology. It kind of makes me wonder if it's doing more harm than good."
"Tima would never do anything like that now. I know, I taught her everything she knew!" Charissa paused for a while, as if thinking.
"Her name is Tima? What dose she look like, Kanichi?" She continued.
"Um… Let's see… She has pale skin and short blonde hair and blue eyes." Charissa's footsteps could once again be heard as she walked out of his room. She had not closed the door to Kanichi's room, and Rock noticed, she didn't completely close his either.
"Atlas, can I be excused for two or so hours and then work the night shift?" Charissa asked as she pulled on her running shoes and coat. Atlas poked his head out from a doorway a few rooms down, a confused look on his face.
"And why would you want to do that? Do you know how much trouble we can get into if dad knew you started to do night shifts? He'd kill me! You're already tired enough as it is when you go to school. You'd drop into a dead sleep every lunch hour!" He had long ago disappeared back into the room, as craning backwards to look at her hurt his stomach, though she could still hear his voice.
"Pease, Atlas! Please!" Charissa whined. Once again Atlas appeared, having completed his work. He sighed, defeated.
"Alright, alright! You can go. But you have to do your own shift as well." She groaned, not thinking that it was fair that she had to do both shifts. It was too exhausting for her to do all that work plus keep up in school. But she guessed that since it was a favour that she asked of her brother that she couldn't really complain.
"You better pay be over time or your dead meat, Atlas!" Charissa looked up at her brother suspiciously.
"Why do you want me to do the night AND the day shift anyways?" He didn't reply to her question. "You got a date tonight, Atlas?" She taunted, underlining the word date with her voice. Atlas, clearly flustered by what she said began to push her out the door.
"Well you better not keep whatever you have to do with grandpa waiting. See you for the night shift! Bye!" He shut the door, and walked away. Rock exhaled through his nose in a sign of amusement that such a loser would even have a chance at a date.
Charissa ran as fast as she could to the doors that led to Zone 1 and into the pitiful underground copy of Metropolis. Not wanting to look at anything down there, she kept her focus on her objective. Passing her house, she ran another mile or so to her grandfathers' work place. It was an old and run-down warehouse that had been abandoned in a small fire years ago. Her grandfather went there to do his experiments and research in peace and quiet, away from anyone and everyone else, partly because he didn't want to hurt anyone and partly to keep his privacy. She stopped at the door, trying to catch her breath. Her lungs burned and her legs felt like they were going to collapse if she took one more step. She leaned against the burnt entranceway, her hand holding her chest. Gathering a little bit of breath, she walked into the warehouse, and tried not to step or bump into anything. Her grandpa was one of those uncoordinated people. The place was always a mess. Papers, tools and things Charissa didn't know about lay everywhere in the half lit room.
"Uh... Grandpa? Grandpa are you here?" Charissa asked trying to walk through the mess of old junk that was her grandfathers' most prized items when it came to work. "This is worse then Atlas's room." She muttered under her breath with a little laugh. She knew she'd be dead if she said that to his face. "Grandpa?" She called again. A small explosion answered her. She ran towards the explosion site, fearing that her grandfather had been injured. She coughed, waving away the smoke and saw her grandfather. He was hanging upside down in a tangle of wires and cables. He was a short man with a slight potbelly, and wild frizzy and unkempt hair. She giggled at the sight and moved towards him to help him down.
"Ah! Charissa! What a surprise! What brings you here?" He asked as he was finally able to come upright. "I thought your shift at the hospital wasn't over for the next three hours." He had a sort of high-pitched voice, making him sound somewhat like a chipmunk. Was he using helium again for his experiments?
"Atlas and I made a deal, don't worry about it grandpa. I wanted to talk to you about the robot I found a few days ago. Turns out that boy, Kanichi was friends with the robot and her name was Tima." Charissa said, sitting down on one of her grandfather's inventions. For now she decided to call it a 'Thingy-ma-bobber'. "And the boy I found, his name is Rock. He was deeply involved with Tima and the Ziggurat incident. "
"Yes. Yes. I heard about that. Rock always had a terrible dislike of robots. Ever since a group of them destroyed his home and family - or so I was told. So when Duke Red adopted him, he took it in to protect the man."
"But Duke Red is dead. He died during the time of the collapse of the Ziggurat. You think Rock might still think he is alive?" She asked, playing with a loose spring of his invention, which popped off, landing on the ground a few feet away.
"I don't know, Charissa. Yes Duke died that day, but only because he thought Rock had been killed. You see my dear, you never really know how much you loved, or cared about someone until they are gone forever. And that's what Duke realized when he saw the thing explode in front of him. And Rock was too close to be able to survive. And so-" He was cut off by Charissa.
"And so he tried to save Rock - or what was left of his body." Charissa mused. "And Kanichi also said Tima wanted to be…" She changed the subject. She hopped off of the Thingy-ma-bobber and whispered into his ear.
"No Charissa! I can't do it! It is impossible! Not even I can do something that dangerous even if it is for a good cause." Charissa's face wore a pleading expression.
"Please grandpa. Please. You have to! Do it for me." The old man sighed.
"Alright, Charissa. But only because you're my granddaughter." Charissa jumped up and down and hugged him.
"Oh thank you! Thank you so much grandpa!"
"Yes, yes. Get back to work. Your shift at the hospital?" Her grandfather chuckled. He knew the schedules quite well, and knew that Charissa would be starting the night shift in only a few hours. The girl obviously didn't think about what a squeeze for time it would be to come all the way down.
"That's right… I better get back." Waving goodbye, Charissa ran out the door, and ran all three miles back to the hospital. Atlas was waiting at the entranceway, pacing a little as he waited. Once she came into view a smug smile came onto his face, seeing how exhausted she was. She was rather silly, thinking that she could rush across the ruins of the city in such a short period of time.
"Have fun little sister?" He asked as she tried to catch her breath after running four miles straight.
"Sh-shut up.Atlas." She panted as she walked slowly to the front office and sat down on a bench.