Why hello! This shall be my first attempt at a Romantically Apocalyptic Multi-chapter. We'll see where it takes us, won't we?

I wrote this today, it's probably the shortest thing I've ever written in my life.

I'd like to dedicate this to my fellow Minion-mods on the forum. May the digital hugs and radioactive beverages be plentiful to you!

I really didn't know what to name this, so I pulled some lyrics off of a song I was listening to. I may or may not change it.

Anyways, Enjoy!

xXx

I should have been dead.

Why am I not?

I wander around the wasteland, leaving my seclusion reluctantly.

Where would I go?

I wander through the outskirts of the City, not daring to venture into it just yet; Annie had most likely sent out another hunter-exterminator drone to search for me.

I eventually find a bunker after what seemed like hours of walking.

All it consists of is two and a half walls and a mass of debris, dust and splinters that litter the floor. It was better a better idea than staying both alone and unarmed in the open Dead Zone at night while I slept. I suppose the thick layer of ash covering the floor would provide more cushioning than simply sleeping on the destroyed, cold ground anyways.

I lie down and curl into a corner, farthest away from the open wall as possible as I slowly drift into unconsciousness.

xXx

Sleep had been rough. I had been used to sleeping in a cot with an itchy micro-fiber blanket for warmth. But they had been destroyed in Annie's execute protocol 1-1-3. In the night, I happened to learn that the Dead Zone chilled to extreme temperatures. Nuclear Winter was, apparently, the worst season.

And of course, it's the time where Annie decided to show up.

I leave the bunker with a sore back and a foul mood.

By late morning, I'm in a rut. I don't know where I'm headed; I've no food, water, or weapons.

I fear I may be the only survivor around, but what about…

What about the ones that managed to flee before the bombs?

I search my mind, trying to remember the faces of the ones who'd prepared. A handful of Directorate workers, who had fled the scene with a week's food rations and no protection. I was confident that they were all dead, or at least mutated beyond repair. None of them had any inkling of knowledge outside of their Connected minds.

But…

But there were a few who I knew could have survived. There was… I search my mind. There was the Pilot I'd put in charge of one of the Major nuke planes. He might have potentially suffered some long-term memory loss from his disconnection with Annie, but he knew how to survive.

There was Subject Seven, who had more than likely survived the blasts.

There was one more… His face swam in and out of view in my mind, rendering me incapable of remembering.

As I walk I try to grasp the lost image of his face in my mind. About ten minutes later I'm finally able to surface a memory of the forgotten face. An angry, almost disbelieving expression mars an otherwise tired expression as he watches one of Seven's many conducted Tests, taking notes to be handed to people higher up on the employment ladder than he could ever be. Thinking of that, another image of his face shows up, one with a happier (albeit tired) expression as he hands me a digital log, recounting his first day in his new relocation and what he had found as a…

What was he?

I walk, wondering, when it comes back to me. He was a Dead Zone tour guide who had requested the transfer. He was the only person that couldn't connect to the world, the only one who never knew the perfection of what Annie once was.

The only one who didn't have to worry about destroyed memories once the headsets were seemingly eradicated.

He's probably the sanest of us all if he's still a survivor. I guess being the 1% has its perks now.

xXx

Please review! Tell me what you think, give me ideas!

xoSoul