This story is in the process of being rewritten. Once a chapter has had a rewrite it will be uploaded so if you are rereading this story, don't fear, the later chapters have been deleted and will be uploaded again soon!
Chapter 1:
The Beginning of an End
She was Amber, but she had many names, whispered like untrue breaths in the shadows. The words clung to her, etching deep into her person, branding her with a brooding darkness. Amber, the embodiment of all the violence and despair that surrounded her.
From the moment she came into this world, unnamed and unnoticed, she remained a specter, a mere ghost in the eyes of the Consul. In their eyes, there was no room for a firstborn girl in the Murphy family. She was erased, replaced by a boy named John. A cruel twist of fate, born in blood and muffled cries, she became an enigma—a hidden chance at redemption.
The secret birth of a child was locked away, concealed from prying eyes. No one knew of the crimson-soaked bathroom, cleansed by the woman who birthed Amber. In the depths of her heart, Amber wondered if it was selfish to find solace in this hidden existence. Yet, despite the love she believed she once felt, her earliest memories had faded into a tapestry of static, tainted by the lingering hue of red.
Visions clawed their way into Amber's mind, relentless and tormenting. She sought refuge in the confines of the services panel, her sanctuary of shadows. Behind the grate, she bore witness to her birth father's futile pleas for mercy, met with the cold decree of Chancellor Jaha. She watched as her mother, consumed by grief, drowned her sorrows until the alcohol became her poison. The woman's final, gasping breaths held accusations, blaming Amber's brother, John, for their father's demise.
Amber, on the precipice of adulthood, observed her troubled brother transform into John—a man of scars, both seen and unseen. Bruises on his knees had given way to bruises on his chin, a reflection of the violence that had become his constant companion. He was a man who struck first, never giving others a chance. But even the troubled ones fall prey to sickness, their bodies weakened, coughing echoes of their pain. With no one to care for him, hunger gnawing at his insides, John's existence became a desperate struggle.
Amber, ever the hidden one, understood the art of stealth. She couldn't steal food, too many eyes prying into every nook and cranny. But medicine—that was her hope. The infirmary was her clandestine domain, its layout imprinted in her mind. She knew the ebb and flow of the shifts, the perfect moment to slip in unnoticed. Yet, despite her meticulous planning, her desperate attempts to secure the much-needed aid for John always ended in failure. The details blurred, lost in a haze of crimson and trembling hands. The shifts remained stagnant, frozen in time, for all who once cared and all who needed care were now lifeless.
Time drifted aimlessly, a river flowing with uncertain currents. Amber's refuge shifted from the vents to the confines of a prison cell. Accused of murders, her memories became fleeting fragments that could no longer clear her name, a name that was not truly hers. Only one truth remained etched in her heart—John never received the medicine she fought to acquire.
Every day since the day she was found, Amber had carried him in her thoughts. Two years had passed, but his memory lingered like a haunting specter. Twenty years old, yet the guards who watched over her in the cold confines of her cell remained oblivious to her true age. They knew nothing of her, not her name, not her motive. They observed her with vigilant eyes, counting her every move, monitoring her exercise routine. Hours were spent battling invisible foes, flinging plastic cutlery at the makeshift target on her bed linen, hitting the charcoal-marked X with unwavering precision.
But one fateful morning, as the guards entered her cell, a dart pierced her flesh. Her vision blurred, engulfed in a blinding white that morphed into an abyss of darkness. Her legs gave way, collapsing beneath her.
Voices echoed in the distance, muffled yet audible.
"-is on the lower level. Let's go."
"No. We can't just open the doors," a female voice interjected, coming from a further distance.
Amber's eyes fluttered open, her breath coming in slow, deliberate gasps. For a fleeting moment, she glimpsed a crowded room, filled with restless teenagers. And then, darkness claimed her once more as she succumbed to sleep.
When she awoke, her eyelids heavy with lethargy, the room was devoid of life. Only silence prevailed, the mechanical hum she had grown accustomed to was gone. Faint yells reached her ears, emanating from the outside.
Without hesitation, Amber freed herself from the restraints, launching off her seat and descending a ladder that led her towards the voices. A doorway beckoned her, opening up to an unfamiliar sight.
Greenery. A forest. Amber found herself on Earth. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, invigorating her weakened body.
With faltering steps, she approached the archway, her gaze fixated on the gathering of young adults. In the midst of the crowd, three boys stood in a line. Two faced off against each other, while the one in the middle broke away from the scene. In an instant, Earth and the surrounding crowd faded into insignificance. Her focus honed in on the figure she recognised immediately.
John.
Her brother.