Matt Dovey
Ramirez watched the people walk by. Laughing, mocking, carefree, he hated them all. They were not deserving of this glorious world they had inherited from the magnificent civilisations of the past. Some of them glanced in his direction occasionally, a brief look of disgust flickering across their faces at the stranger; but most just walked by, ignoring him. He felt cold inside, but not from the night air - he was cold from his hatred, his anger, his fury at this useless, heartless, compassionless society. How could such a mighty world bear to be inhabited by such a loathsome people? He shook his head sadly, his platinum blonde hair shaking softly, lifting slightly in the faint breeze that pervaded Upper Valua. How had it happened?
There was a creaking as an old man sat down on the other end of the bench. Ramirez deliberately ignored him, blanking him out, not sure if he could contain himself and talk civilly to one of these abominations of life.
"You look troubled, young man. You seem to have far too much worry on your shoulders for someone of your youth."
Ramirez had his head down, his long hair covering most of his face. It was only this that covered his temporary surprise at the insight of this stranger. Surely none of the inhabitants of the Land of the Yellow Moon could recognise emotions, let alone care about them? He tilted his head sideways slightly to glance at the stranger. He had a dark grey beard lined with silver that went down onto his chest, none too neatly. His clothes, although not in terrible condition, were still not perfect - they had a lived-in look that no others seemed to have in Valua. His face was alert, intelligent, and smiling. Ramirez averted his gaze and hung his head once more.
"You know, they say a problem shared is a problem halved."
"It's not something I can share," muttered Ramirez, tersely.
"I used to think that some things couldn't be shared, either. Used to."
"You wouldn't understand this one. It's bigger than you."
"I've been through some pretty big things in my life. I come from this place, but about twenty years ago I fled. I couldn't take the ignorance, the aloofness of the other citizens of Upper Valua. I felt alone in an ocean of people. You do realise that this is the biggest city in the world, don't you?"
"Shame it's populated by morons," muttered Ramirez quietly. The old man laughed, displaying an uncommonly good sense of hearing.
"I know exactly what you mean, lad. That's why I left, I couldn't stand them anymore. I spent much of my childhood exploring, as young boys will do, so I knew the routes in and out of here. It got to one point and I just couldn't take it anymore, so, using my knowledge of the area, I escaped. I took enough items with me to sell in Lower Valua and make some money to set myself up. But, every now and then, I get the urge to come back and just sit... just to remind myself what I left behind, and why I did." The old man sighed. Ramirez remained silent, unsure how to act - this man fell outside of his hatred, and his hatred was almost his only existence right now. He stood up and leaned against the barrier behind him, looking out over the bay, to the Grand Fortress and Lower Valua. He sighed.
"I can tell I'm not going to get anything out of you now, young man, so I'll just leave you with this: remember everyone is individual, and some people genuinely are worth saving." Ramirez hung his head once more, then turned around. The man had gone. Ramirez swallowed; the man had seemed to read his thoughts. Running through his hatred now was a seam of sadness, regret, sorrow at some of the people that would have to be killed. But killed they would be; the planet had to be purified again. His jaw set, he set off to the Grand Fortress. He had a meeting with an Admiral to keep.
