"We will strive to be the best that we can be, and use the tools we are given to the best of our ability. We must work together to ensure the safety of our people, because we are the only people that remain." - Avery Filtyr, First Mayor of Oceyron, during his acceptance speech upon being elected for a third consecutive term.

-4 Years Ago-  

We were driving. I knew where we were going – my hands were behind the wheel, after all – but I wasn't sure I was ready for what we were about to do. I wasn't sure my husband was ready for this, either. He said he was, and so was I, but... where we were going, there would be no turning back. We were one of the few who were approached at their doorstep, I remembered allowing them inside and have them explain just what they wanted to do for us. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing anymore.

The dome above our heads, it was always there, always reminding us that we were never truly outside. The sun was shining so brightly that even looking up made me squint, but we could still make out some small refraction of light far off in the distance. There were more than fifteen million of us living inside this thing. Of course we had no choice – the rest of the planet was just too radioactive - and when I thought about it, about the quality of life in here, the hard work that was put in to wrap us up in a terraformed, protective environment, I could only see it as a marvel of human engineering.

Ironically, Tyler, a man who was involved with the environmental controls and mechanics of this place, simply thought of it as a prison. Of course, that was a conversation for another day. It had nothing to do with why we were on the road right now. No, we were here because of our son, or more specifically what had happened to him.   

The car accident. I still choked up a little bit when I thought about that. It wasn't fair, none of it was. The delivery driver who drank a little too much on his way home and swerved to the side, he was in prison where he belonged. It wouldn't bring Ian back. Nothing could.   

Except, maybe, this.   

"We don't have to do this, you know," he assured me, obviously aware of how my eyes watered whenever I remembered what had happened, "we can turn around, try this some other time."  We had arguments about this almost as soon as the men who knocked on our door had left again, after explaining things that I found to be hilariously impossible. In the beginning, well let's just say I didn't believe a single word they said, and it was my husband who was trying his best to try & persuade me that what was being said was more than just hot air. They came from the same parent company where he worked, after all. It was ironic that he was now telling me that we could abandon all of this, when we were so close and I had already latched onto the possibility long ago. Besides, this stretch of road was one-way only. Maybe that was a sign. He always joked about my belief in these things, he wasn't joking now.

"No, Tyler. If what they're saying is true, we can bring him back."  

I kept our little set of wheels glued to the road, even though he was right as always. Even when he had changed my mind, a small part of me still wanted to turn back, wait until I was 100% confident, but I had plenty of time to think about this. We had plenty of time to think about this. There was no more time for thinking, only time for action.   

The arrow-straight stretch of road dissected the heart of the dome, connecting every other road with it. We had already passed through the inner circle of residential housing, acre after acre of solar-powered buildings with children and traffic and everyday domestic life. But that stopped in the blink of an eye, and we were met with nothing but dust and sand between here and the outer circle of houses. You were either wealthy enough to live inside the inner circle - somewhere Tyler and I had the privilege of staying, or you made due with the outer circle, which meant that there really was a class divide inside this place. There were plans to turn the space in between into a forest of sorts, or perhaps a several-mile, circular park which would add some much-needed greenery to this place. The Mayor was considering it...and then decided to drop the project. There needed to be more housing, he said in one of those mandatory addresses, to cater for the rapidly-expanding population.

I suddenly felt self-conscious as we drove through this outer circle, knowing that our car would be an item most of these people couldn't even hope to afford. I kept my eyes glued to the road right in front of me, with no reason to feel even slightly anxious. But there I was, anxious. How many people living here would kill for the same opportunity we had right now? Anybody who had lost a child, an uncle, a parent? We've all been through that, and we were the only ones who were going to be given the chance? Because we could afford it?

Fibrtech Industries, it  was just a mile away, near the edge of the dome itself. It was responsible for the construction of almost everything, certainly everything that made this place livable; the carbon-fibre reinforced lead concrete that made the wall around us, the polarizing, interconnecting, bendable sheets of glass that connected together to make the semi-sphere above the city,   

Now, they were busy creating something else: people.   

It was daunting, parking up outside the factory itself, looking at several men and women as they poured in and out of the building, the both of us standing out for all the wrong reasons. Locking our little antique up, I took one glance at my husband - realized he was just as uncertain about this as I was - and took in a deep breath, calmed down, moving towards the entrance.   

"Never met the big man himself," he commented casually, trying to break the ice. Technically speaking, Tyler worked for Fibrtech, though he was actually stationed inside the city, manually controlling the overall temperature and atmospheric functions of this place. The person we were about to see was actually his boss. It was only because he worked there that we were invited to this appointment at all.   

That made me nervous.   

Once inside, I marveled at the sight in front of me. Nothing but clear glass and assembly lines, which meant that visitors could watch everything that was going on from within the reception area. There were hundreds of employees, roughly half of them testing the flexibility of yet another pane of glass. It bent and flexed easily, something which I thought was impossible, it certainly looked impossible, even when I saw it with my own eyes.   

I was using that word a lot, Impossible. 

"Did you bring the hairbrush?" I asked. He nodded, showing me the little bagpack he used to wear on his way to school.  

"Excuse me? Mr & Mrs. Kenzie?"  

I guess I had seen him coming almost as soon as we walked through their doors, but the man seemed almost hesitant to speak. He couldn't have been older than twenty, an intern by the looks of things. I might have known one or both of his parents, people his age would have never have bagged a position here without some sort of inside help. He continued to stand right where he was anyway, waiting for an answer.   

"That's us," Tyler answered, shaking the man's hand. He wasn't even sure of what to do when it came to a simple handshake, "you look nervous, do yourself a favor and straighten up a little bit. You need to look like you know what you're doing if you want to last long here."

"Tyler," I whispered, annoyed. He simply shrugged.

"No it's fine Ms. Kenzie," he responded, following my husband's advice, "I've only been here a week, thanks for the advice. My own name's Tristan, by the way. Tristan Avenville."

"I work with your father. He's a damn good technician."

Tristan almost blushed to the compliment, taking off his safety goggles to get a better look at us. I recognized him now that I could place the name, though I wasn't too fond of his mother, Miranda. Of course, that was another story for another day.  

"Mr. Armado is ready for you now, If you would like to follow me?"  

So we allowed him to lead the way, branching off even deeper inside the building, moving right into the heart of the work. We were walking through narrow corridors, clear glass allowing us to see everything that was going on.  It felt like we were moving through the assembly lines themselves, albeit without the intrusion of noise. The glass was incredibly well-insulated,  almost soundproof. It was...disorientating. The three of us made it towards an equally-transparent elevator, climbing inside it and watched as it moved downwards and underground. It caught me by surprise, and I squeezed Tyler's hand quite tightly. He squeezed right back.   

"I apologize for the lack of lighting," we could hear our escort say at the other side of the elevator, "We're busy installing them around the complex. This thing is pretty new...same with this place, but I'm not allowed know what this new extension is for. 'It's way above your pay-grade', they keep telling me."  

"You'll hear that quite a lot," Tyler began, but forgot to fully respond as we were suddenly greeted by an enormous work floor, larger than any warehouse I've seen, with brand-new equipment still fresh inside their boxes. Wires criss-crossed most of the floor, and yet more workers were busy removing them from their packaging.   

What I focused on, however, were the military uniforms, the personnel who were unloading these machines alongside them.

The Helmsmen, our military.

It was no secret that Fibrtech were also partly responsible for constructing the suits that allowed them to function & breathe outside of the dome, but the sight of them here worried me. Tristan was just as concerned as I was, but chose to look away and ignore them. We were taught from a young age not to interfere with military work, and you had to be a special kind of crazy to sign up in the first place. I distracted myself by thinking about Ian, specifically one time he came home from his first day of school, crying. I had to pick him up in my arms and tell him that everything would be okay...

I needed to stop thinking about that. At least until I knew that what they were proposing would work.  

Our escort moved off as soon as the elevator doors parted and allowed us outside, and we had no choice but to follow him. Our footsteps echoed across the entire room, bouncing off of every wall – it was clear there was little to no sound insulation installed here just yet – but with this facility so obviously new and incomplete, I wondered if the company were really serious about what they wanted to do for us, or if this was nothing more than hot air.   

It was one thing bending sheets of glass, it was another matter entirely of creating a human being.   

Another elevator, but this one was a box of steel & lighting, and the trip only lasted seconds before we were escorted inside our final corridor. No glass whatsoever this time, nothing but walls and secrecy. I could hear nothing outside of my own slightly-scared erratic breathing, but we eventually made it to the very end, and into the office beyond it.   

"You okay?" Tyler whispered just one last time, but I walked inside anyway. It was too late to think about things now.   

His office was unusually small for what was most definitely the CEO of the entire company, but it was luxuriously-detailed. My feet seemed to be lost in the carpet, while color was splashed everywhere – far removed from the grey & white before outside. Green for the walls, paintings adorning each side. His desk was solid & glossed mahogany, while the man himself blended right in. His face was lined with age, framed with thin red spectacles along with a matching tuxedo top. It was all a bit much, a bit unexpected.  

"It takes some getting used to. Don't worry, you're not the only person thrown off when you walked in here," he assured us, almost as if he could read my mind. His voice was ragged, but his eyes seemed anything but, once they turned towards me. Even now, I could understand just why he was head of that company, just from his eyes. They were sharp, they held a vision. "Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Antonio Armado, and I would like to thank you for accepting my invitation today." 

"The same to you," I responded, aware of how Tyler was drinking in all the minute little colors of this place, finally resting at the great big grandfather-clock which dominated the wall to our left.  

"A fine model, pre-World War III, if you can believe it," its owner explained, obviously picking up on my husband's wandering eye, "at least, that's what its owner said, but I trust the man within an inch of my life, very well-travelled. Our military risk their lives out in that wilderness, treasures like these are rare!" 

I wasn't in the mood to talk about ticking clocks.  

"What you wrote to us," I cut in, hoping to get to the point, "it was very...optimistic. I still can't believe just what you were proposing..." 

"You're allowed to feel a sense of distrust and bewilderment," Antonio replied, inching forward on his chair, "in fact, right up until a few months ago, I would have joined you. What we proposed to you – what we proposed to more than a dozen others in a similar position to you – is still considered out of our limits. But I am a man of my word, and I can assure you, I personally wrote each and every letter of that E-mail, and each and every letter is true. Mr. Anderson and Cole are two of my most trustworthy employees, and I sent them personally to explain all of this in fine detail." 

"You can bring him back? That's all I want to know." 

"We can take your son's DNA, and use it to replicate him almost precisely as he was." 

So there it was – the punchline. I wanted to cling onto that hope with everything I had, anything to see my son's face again was enough to make me weep, but I had to keep myself under control for the moment, I had to ask questions that needed to be asked.  

"I want proof," I told him, right to his face, surprising even my husband. He glared at me, having just insulted his boss. I never worked here, I hadn't worked ever since that accident, and I needed to assert myself in the conversation. I could feel my heart quicken just a little bit, & I realized that perhaps what I've said might have been a demand too far.

"You are most entitled to your proof, Mrs. Kenzie, and if you'll follow me, you'll find it." 

He stood up from his chair, surprising me by just how small & frail he was. He limped back outside the door we arrived in, beckoning the both of us to follow. I held my husband's hand as we set off, noticing that his was cold...and shaking. He was just as skeptical – yet hopeful – as I was.  

"When the concept of replicating human DNA was first proposed to us 2 years ago, you would be forgiven to harboring quite a few doubts," Armado began as he rounded the corridor, the three of us now strolling even deeper into the maze, "but we were given quite a bit of data, including blueprints and schematics for a machine which had – until that point – successfully duplicated non-organic matter such as steel. That discovery in and of itself was already a technological breakthrough, and we are currently testing this technology in our latest wave of space-age materials. Those glass panels you no doubt saw when you arrived, they were completely replicated from existing material – not a single human hand had been used in its creation." 

"That's quite impressive," my husband commented, genuinely awe-struck. This must have been seen as solid gold to him. That, or he was trying to get into this old man's good books. I didn't care, I just wanted him to get to the point of our journey, why we came here in the first place.  

"Indeed it is, but then the creator had...larger ambitions. They wanted to use this breakthrough and flash-clone humans. This, I'm sure you're aware, would pose a much more challenging concept than simply copying minerals, so I decided to get the proof I would need, and volunteered myself." 

"You volunteered to be cloned?" 

"Indeed, and I will prove it to you right now." 

He shuffled towards the nearest door, placing his hand against the nearest scanner, which immediately accepted it, and together we moved inside towards... 

I couldn't tell what I was looking at.  

It was another machine from their new facility; a cylindrical tube filled with ominous blue liquid, several scientists taking notes & checking vital statistics on several screens dotted across the lab, and there it was...there he was.

Antonio Armado himself, or his clone, to be precise.

Almost all of him was completed, all except for his right arm, but I could see minute tubes plugged into almost every square inch of his body, and once I peered close enough... 

My God, I can see it happening! 

It was like a line of code, but his arm was being created, 1 millimeter at a time. It was happening, right in front of me.  

"Incredible," Tyler whispered, just as shocked as I was, while the CEO watched us, arms crossed, smiling.  

"He's beautiful, isn't he? We could use more than one brilliant mind running this place, after all! I'm just as excited about this as you are, my friends, and this is only the beginning!" 

He kept moving, subtly nodded at his employees as he passed them, and pressed his frail hand against what must had been a biometric scanner. It instantly accepted his submission, and what I assumed was a solid chunk of metal suddenly became a door and opened up toward yet another lab, much larger than the one we were standing in. 

From here, I could see twelve more tubes, with a dozen more clones. They were all in their teens, just like Ian was. I imagined twelve more families, families that lost their child just like we had, families who were within a shot of being given a second chance. It took everything I had not to break down and cry right there and then. It was possible, I allowed myself to hope just a little bit more, because there was the proof right in front of my eyes. This couldn’t have been a trick, a scam, I wanted this, I wanted my son back.  

"Of course, before we leave this facility, I need you to promise me not to breathe a single word about what you've seen here," he continued, "this is still an ongoing experiment, and breaching this promise will result in the suspension of duplicating your son's DNA. I need to make that clear, you will find this clause in the contract you will sign soon enough." 

Yes, the contract. Tyler had the piece of paper on him, a document we combed over time and time again, day after day. Suddenly the doubt resurfaced again, and there was a very good reason for that. 

That document had outlined things I just couldn't understand. We needed to get to the bottom of it before we could even think about this man's offer. 

The door sealed itself shut behind us, and while I should have been happy with what I've seen, it was laced with a hint of...fear? Dread? Doubt? I was still a mother, and I still worried about what would happen to my son. What would happen if something went wrong? What if he couldn't be made? The only DNA sample we had was years old, would it be enough? I couldn't get the worst-case scenario out of my head. I wanted to speak to Tyler, but he was going through the same mix of emotions as I was, and after what we saw, neither of us were going to pass on this opportunity, now were we?  

There are a few things we will need to discuss," Antonio spoke once we were once again escorted to his colorful office, feeling grateful for the comfort of his chair, "I'll be as brief as I can. First of all, as outlined in my E-mail, this procedure will cost fifty thousand dollars. Under normal circumstances, this would be three times that amount once we begin offering this service to the general public. Because of your unfortunate circumstance, and because you will be among the first willing participants in this experiment, you deserve this discount. I will, however, require the money within 24 hours." 

"We have it right here," Tyler assured him, hoisting what was Ian's bag onto his hip, unzipping & showing the CEO  a glimpse of the money that was inside, " We had to remortgage the house to afford this but...it will be worth it, won't it?" 

"It most certainly will, I can assure you." 

"If I can just say something?" I added, taking my chance, needing to clarify just what would be contained inside this document, "There's a few things we need to discuss. Things we found difficult to understand when your company delivered your contract?"

"Ah, well feel free to voice your concerns, Ms. Kenzie."

It was only a few pages – thankfully – so it wouldn't require dedicated reading, but I skimmed through the pages,trying to re-locate the first red flag.

"What does it say here?" I asked, puzzled, "In article 12.1: "Fibrtech, under extraordinary circumstances, may feel the need to retrieve your product for testing if it displays erratic, malfunctioning behavior. In the event of a complete malfunction, you will be refunded the full amount, or request for a copy to be created in its place." 

"A very fine question, and I'm glad you brought it up, Mrs. Kenzie. Simply put, this is still the first phase of this operation, and while my own personal clone is now 99% faithful to its submitted DNA, there have been a few examples prior to the example you've seen today which...ended in failure. Simply put, if your clone suffers from organ failure, or degrades to the point no human can, we will give you the option of refunding you, or to provide you with a new copy." 

"That's not what I meant. I meant how you phrase this; 'products', 'malfunction', they sound like robots." 

"I see, well to put it this way, your clone will not be 100% organic. I do apologize if that was not made clear, although I emphasize that at least 80% of your child will consist of organic matter. However, these cells will be bound together using artificial, nanotech material." 

"So they're what, artificial? That's something you left out of your invitation." 

"Allow me to repeat myself, 80% of your clone will be completely organic. It will feature your child's DNA as the main ingredient." 

"Okay, but what about this article: "Your clone will remain the property of Fibrtech Industries, even after final purchase has been confirmed. You will hold joint ownership of your product, except for extraordinary circumstances which would force the company to intervene (see Sections 12.1, 12.2, 12.3, 6.7 & 6.8)"" 

"That, Mrs. Kenzie, means that your clone will continue to be the property of Fibrtech,  but we will only intervene if your child commits an act of crime, right up to the point of malfunction." 

"These are a lot of points you neglected to mention." I spoke through gritted teeth, suddenly angry. It wasn't his fault, he sent this contract months in advance, & we were aware of these red flags for almost as long. The logical part of me knew that he gave us fair warning, but the other side of me, the side that envisioned scientists barging into their home & taking their sick or dying son because of a malfunction? I questioned why he felt the need to label them as robots & machinery in the first place!

"You can refuse to partake in this opportunity at any stage. Nobody is keeping you from leaving here." 

"I just might," I replied, standing up & leaving without giving him, or even my husband, a chance to speak. I was seething, the way he so casually labeled them as machines, I thought of his clone, the unconscious man currently sleeping in a cyrotube of liquid. Was he going to labeled a 'product' as well? 

"What are you doing?" Tyler demanded, catching up with me and gripping my arm, "We are so close to getting him back and you - " 

"Did you not hear him inside there? Our son would belong to this company! What if he turns sick? What if he degrades or suffered from anything medicine couldn't fix. They offered to replace him, imagine having our son taken away, replaced with a copy! Would you like that?" 

"Isn't that what we're doing right now, Catherine?" 

"Our son is dead," I reminded him, & I didn't care how many tears fell down my cheek there & then, "or don't you remember?" 

"Cathy...what this place is offering...you know we can't turn it down, right? You heard him in there, Ian would be 80% original, only his cells will be bound artificially, that's like having stitches. They're promising only to interfere if he turns out wrong, he'll still be our son, and he'll be made right. He'll be healthy, happy, live a full life...just the way he was supposed to be, we'll make sure of it. We can get him back, we just need to sign the document." 

"I don't know what to think. I was so sure this would all turn out okay, Tyler, but the contract is going to hang over us forever. I don't know about you, but the thought of somebody taking my son to be reassembled is making my stomach churn! Do we want to bring somebody into the world, when all he's only going to be thought of as a product?"

"Please, Catherine?" He whispered, and this time it was his turn to start crying, great big drops moving down his face. "He's my son too, I want him back more than anything else in the world. Please Cathy, for me? For Ian?" 

I closed my eyes, spilling what was left of my tears inside them, burying my head up against him and held him tight. He held me in the exact same way. It was true; we were so close, so close to having a son tugged back into his bed again, to have someone come home from school and complain about the casual day they had. I would have somebody to make lunches for again, to ask how their day went, to tell him I was proud of him...that I loved him.  

"You're right...let's go." 

He stroked my hand with his thumb while he led me back inside, the very first thing he did when we first held hands nearly twenty-five years ago. Was it really that long ago?  

"I apologize for the distress I may have caused," Antonio remarked, genuinely saddened if his tone of voice was anything to go by.  

"It's alright," I assured him, placing the contract up on his desk, "we're ready to sign now."

"Treat them as you would treat your own, but remember; they are part of an important and ongoing trial. They are our people, but they are separate to us. Equal, but separate." - First Mayor Avery Filtyr addressing public outcry during the forty-first Oceyron address, when the 'synthetics' were introduced to the general public.

-Ian- 

My version of being born was a bit different to how most of my classmates had been born, in that I could remember everything like it was yesterday. I was never a baby, I never had to go through the diaper phase, or learn how to speak or how to crawl. No, instead the first thing I remembered was drowning. I woke up inside that damn tub, trying to claw my way out of it, breathing in some of the water and having it slide down into my lungs. They opened the glass and I fell out onto the floor, coughing up everything I could, but hands grabbed me before I could even have time to take in where I was. They wrapped me up in a massive white robe while they stopped me from doubling over again. I remembered about eleven or twelve more of us, all wrapped in the same clothes and all spewing up fluid, all being herded into another room. I wanted to fix eyes on somebody else, but I was being moved all over the place by the damn labcoats. They moved me into my own personal room, took all manner of blood tests and X-rays, telling me that I 'passed' the screening process.

Right there and then, I didn't have a clue what they were saying. I was still taking in everything around me, I was alive for roughly thirty minutes, for crying out loud! 

They dressed me in proper clothes then, keeping me away from everybody else, until we boarded an elevator and rose to even more scientists. All of them clapped, although I didn't know what for right at that moment, and that was when I met them. She ran towards me, hugging me, stroking my hair and taking a good long look at my face. 

Her first words? He's so pale, and what are those across his face? Is he alright? Is it serious?

The man who stood next to her told her that everything was perfect, and they hugged me together. This happened before they told me they were Mom & Dad, before I even knew who I was.The labcoats took pictures of us, we still have our copy on the mantelpiece in our living room, but you could see the confusion on my face, before I knew how to smile or use my face in any way. They told me who I was, they told me my name and what I liked to do, how I liked my food, and the friends I had back then. I told them that was impossible, because I was only awake for the better part of a day. 

That was when I found out I was a copy. 

Fast-forward to this morning, and like every morning I didn't want to wake up. I didn't want to get dressed. I didn't want to look at the same old person in the mirror and be reminded of the purple veins scattered across my face, the rest of my skin translucent. I could hear my parents call me from downstairs, telling me that I was going to be late for school if I didn't hurry up. They knew how much I hated school, but their response was the same. 

But you used to love school! 

I'd given up on trying to tell them that I never liked it for the entire four years I had been to the same building, the entire four years that I was alive. The 'disagreements' weren't worth it anymore, so I was shuffling downstairs, my bag already being a nuisance on my back. I wasn't in the mood to walk inside the kitchen to say goodbye to my parents, they were about to leave for their jobs as it was. No sooner had I heard them wish me luck was the door closed behind my back, and I was on my way to yet another morning, afternoon, and evening.  

It was only when I was further away from my house that I felt comfortable to think of the same statement in my head, almost afraid that my parents would somehow pick up on it.  

I'm not Ian Kenzie. I'm just a copy. 

That's what we were, now weren't we? Copies, synthetic, that's what they kept calling me inside my class, not right to my face, but whispers when I walked past, when my back was turned, or even when they just assumed that I was too far away to pick up on it. I wasn't the only one – we were all on the same boat. The worst part was that we were never going to escape this. The glass above my head was proof of that. We were locked inside a dome, and that meant being trapped with all the stares and the whispers and the insults.  
 
I was lucky, though. Words were easy to deal with. Some of us got more than that... 

I waited by the stop like I always did, hoping he was going to be waiting as well, my heart sinking when he wasn't. I hadn't heard from Aaron in a while now. The poor guy wasn't feeling too well, so he was immediately shipped off to Fibrtech to see if anything was malfunctioning on his part. Just the very thought of that made my skin crawl. I was never inside the hospitals the public were used to, where you weren't treated like you were some faulty machinery. I didn't know what that felt like, and Aaron's parents weren't exactly sympathetic. 

I'd never been brought back there myself, but I could feel it coming. Everybody gets sick eventually, and when it was my turn... 

The bus made me forget about all of that for a second, I could hear its damn brakes by the time it screeched to a halt. I was the only one who needed to get on, so once my fare was taken care of, we were pretty much on our way again. It was packed, and just like always, I could see the stares even when my eyes were fixed firmly on the ground. Moving towards the back of the bus, I could hear them whispering. I wasn't in the mood to call them out on it, I learned a long time ago that anything I say will just get thrown back to my face. Finally taking a seat, I slouched back and watched as the city unfolded around us.  

We lived in the suburbs, the inner circle. It was nothing too fancy on our part, but the city itself was only a few minutes away, and before you knew it you would be surrounded by buildings so high that you couldn't even see the dome above you. Rumor had it that the tallest skyscrapers actually gave you a chance to see what was on the outside, the radioactive mess that this place was built to protect us from. Of course, they were only rumors, and I wondered if I would ever believe what somebody was saying to me. I whipped out a copy from my bag and started doodling, because there was nothing else for me to do and it kept me distracted. We wouldn't be in school for another thirty minutes or so – we had to go through the traffic jams just like everybody else – so all I could do was sit there and continue making stick people, hoping nobody would bother me. Outside was a mess; people fighting for every square inch of the pavement, every single house or building either gray or dark gray, it all felt a little dead, a little bleak. It didn't help me boost my mood.  

There was also the bi-monthly address by the commissioner of our 'armed forces', the Mayor of this damn town. It made me laugh, considering there was nothing out there to protect ourselves from. We were all that's left, so instead they were the only people left outside the dome, complete in full protective gear, SUV's and tanks crawling through the streets like some mandatory parade. They went on 'expeditions' - to fetch more fuel for our nuclear reactors, to find out more about our planet before we bombed it to smithereens, to judge the local radiation, the list goes on and on. Still, I wanted to enlist more than anything else in the world, just to get away from this place every once in a while.  

Except I couldn't...because I was Synthetic.  

The usual routine of rush-hour traffic seemed to break away in an instant, because right in front of us stood a large number of people, both ordinary people and copies alike. They took up an entire lane of tarmac, banners raised high. Most of the Synthetics inside this protest were older than I was. Only a very small percentage of us were created some the DNA of adults, and you could see on their signs just what they were advocating for. 

"What will Synthetic students face when they graduate? Equal opportunities now!"

I spotted one of them in the center of all of this, her hair dyed a number of colors, the most colorful person by far. It was Kiyoko Itsuchi, and she was busy demanding change through her loudspeaker. I knew that it would take moments before the police would rush in and disband this entire thing, but it wouldn't be the first time Itsuchi would have been arrested for this. To the best of my knowledge, she was the only Synthetic that was created from a living person's DNA, though her original counterpart looked nothing like her. 

Still, it was nice to see that at least some folk were siding with her cause. It was easy to think that everybody was against you when we were all holed up in the same place.

We were free from the traffic lights eventually. We moved slowly past that protest. I could already see the officers closing in, but the ordinary protestors would allow them at least some small bit of protection. They couldn't be seen to mistreat some of those who took part while leaving others go. Our Mayor was all about fairness and equality.

At least, in the eyes of the media.

When we finally tunneled through the actual city itself, I could make out our school resting in the distance. Unlike absolutely everything else, the building could only be described as a bunch of bubbles, spheres hastily joined together, completely out of something they liked to call Glaunium – a combination of glass and aluminum. It meant that the walls never really seemed solid, that you could look outside of your classroom and watch the city - and everything else – in the background. Of course, that lost its novelty years ago, and I was more occupied with trying to find my way out of the place. At least when I finished school and took up a job somewhere, moved out into a place of my own, I could at finally have a little bit of breathing space. 

Maybe I could start acting like myself, and not how people expected Ian to react.  

We were let out roughly a hundred or so meters from the school itself – the traffic was just too heavy as it was – so I was the last one to make it off that heap of junk, shuffling towards the building itself. The sun outside was shining a lot brighter than it normally had, which made the glass above us polarize to compensate. Rumors were going around that it was a solar flare, that the ball of fire was actually dying. I didn't know what to believe, and the Helmsmen never seemed to make a big deal out of it when they came back. Not that they offered to speak about the outside world, or anything. 

"Hey!" 

That voice, it startled me, because it could only belong to Aaron. I turned around to see him moving awkwardly toward me, waving his arm to try & catch my attention. I had to admit, I felt a little bit happier knowing he was outside, out here. 

His face, however, let on that he was less than thrilled right now. That concerned me.  

"How long had they kept you in there?" I asked, waiting until he caught up to me before moving together towards the front doors, "It's been weeks? Did you have your phone? Why didn't you let me know you were...you know..." 

"Because I didn't really have that much of a choice," came his reply, "one minute I was complaining about a pain in my chest, the next, I was told that a recovery vehicle was on their way. They don't leave anything to chance..." 

"I'm sorr-" 

"I know, Ian. I know. Listen, there's something I have to tell you. You know Miranda? The girl the year below us who was taken there about a month ago? I saw her when I was inside. She's not coming out." 

It happened a lot more regularly than I cared to admit; one of us suffering so badly that we could never make it outside of that damn building again, but Miranda was sick for a very long time. It was a wonder she wasn't taken away sooner.  

"It was her kidneys. They totally collapsed. By the time I was leaving, she said one of her lungs was about to fail, too. She was stuck in a wheelchair, tubes everywhere..." 

My heart sank. I actually started to well up a little bit. I hadn't known her personally, but she didn't deserve to go like that.  

"Anything about her family...you know...replacing her?" 

"N'ah. I heard that they don't want to see another daughter of theirs taken away from them. They're devastated," he responded, and by that time we were just outside the school itself. Credit where credit was due, her parents actually cared for her. 

"Well...at least you were alright," I tried to make a positive spin on it, even if it was never going to work, "this place would be a whole lot less interesting without you in it." 

"You got that right!" 

Instead of our usual classes this morning, we were gently escorted towards the main hall, where an army of chairs stood waiting for each of us. There were easily a thousand or so students in this place, but roughly fifty of us were synthetics, so we gave the rest of them a bit of space, clambering behind the bottom-right hand corner of the room, the next two rows of seats completely empty, separating us from them. I cared about that, once upon a time, but by now the action was completely engraved into my head. You saw one of them coming, no matter how well-intentioned, and you walked the other way. Sometimes you even got away without being called something as they passed, but only if they were living inside the inner circle. At least they were quiet about things.

It was the people from the outer circle which followed up on their words.

Aaron & I sat next to each other, a row of freshmen anxiously squirming in their seats. James and Brendan. They couldn't have been created more than a few weeks ago, I didn't recognize a either of them apart from their names. It had only been a year or so since Fibrtech made the cloning program available to the general public, but if Miranda was any indication, they hadn't perfected making us just yet.  

It was a small wonder how I hadn't degraded yet, considering I was one of the first.  

The room suddenly turned dark, the polarizing of the walls filtering out almost all of the light outside. I couldn't make out anything but the silhouettes of people in front of me – until the holographic projection flickered into life, the towering image of a man looking down on each of us.  I recognized him, we all did. It was pretty hard not to considering we saw his face every fourteen days.  

He was the Mayor - Avery Filtyr -  and his word was law.  

"On behalf of myself and my staff, I would like to welcome you to the eighty-ninth Oceyron address." 

Oceyron – the name of the city, and by extension this entire dome. I could have sworn I would have come up with a better name for the place if you left me alone with a pencil and a sheet of paper. We were told that the name originated from the final airship deployed to evacuate civilians away from the epicenter of a nuclear blast, back when we were a space-faring race. A shard of metal, charred at the edges and with the name still engraved, was displayed at the very center of the city. 

I imagined the thought of living before the war, racing into space and with no dome of glass to stop us. 

"Now before I begin, I would like to extend my appreciation to each and every one of you, the fine folk who work together to make this community a prospering, vibrant one, full of possibilities in the future!" 

He's obviously never lived down here, with the rest of us. 

"As you all know, our armed forces are working tirelessly to retrieve our source of energy from the outside, to explore more of our planet, retrieving anything they can to further our knowledge. We are all indebted to the men and women who risk their lives to make our lives a more comfortable one. Their latest expedition will end in the coming days, I hope you will greet them on their return. 
 
Another announcement I am forced to address concerns the remarkable success of Fibrtech's engineering program, specifically in their organic sector." 

It was like the Mayor actually began to stare directly at me, even though I knew that this was a recording and that he couldn't actually see each and every one of us. He was talking about us, and for once, it was something I didn't expect from the man.  

Of course, what he said next reminded me of why I hated him so much.  

"CEO of the company, Antonio Armado, has once again stressed that issues concerning one or more of their products does not originate from their engineering facilities. Instead, the blame lies in the DNA samples that have been submitted to the company. As such, a new screening process will be released in due course, any samples deemed unsatisfactory will be discarded. Armado would also like to emphasize that any customer finding an issue with their product should return it for inspection without delay." 

Aaron, Miranda, it wasn't Fibrtech's fault that they were sick. Oh no, it was their own faulty damn DNA. It was their fault to begin with. That stung, the company could have at least admitted that they were screwing up when it came to making us in the first place! Filtyr concluded his address by thanking us for our attention, and his avatar disappeared in a heartbeat, the room suddenly filtering light again. Almost like clockwork, everybody got up out of their seats, leaving us until last.  

When I say us, I meant the fifty or so of us who were still considered products, who were blamed for malfunctioning or degrading in the first place, who could be replaced at a drop of a hat. One of the freshmen – couldn't have been older than a thirteen-year-old boy, his red hair trying its best to cover some truly vicious-looking scars covering his scalp - sobbed quietly to himself. Aaron tried his best to reassure him that everything was going to be okay, somehow. It didn't work.  

"Why do they hate us?" Brendan whimpered, and I didn't have it in me to answer him, because I didn't know the answer myself... 

* 

"Man, if he keeps giving us History homework like this, I'm going to scream at him, just you wait!" 

We were huddled up inside our own little bookstore, Pen to Parchment. It was a beautiful little brick-laden building in the center of the city. (which would smell forever of pages, considering the overflowing number of them from every shelf.)  

Aaron was doing what Aaron did best: complaining. It wasn't his fault, Mr. Jefferson's rendition of The Three World Wars was getting pretty boring by now. It was going to take at least two hours to write enough words to keep him happy. Our workload was why we decided to hang out here every day, knowing we would get our homework done properly compared to doing it at home. Aaron was a lot better at tolerating passive insults than I was, but today was particularly stressful; somebody actually went ahead and spray-painted his locker with the word Synthie.  

Did the Principal do a thing when a dozen of us decided to march to her office and complain? Just a reassurance that she would do everything she could to catch those responsible...before forgetting about it completely.  

"We'll get it done, then some comic-browsing. Sound good?" 

I knew it sounded good, and Aaron did too, judging from the smile he just couldn't hide. It was the first time I had seen him do that since I saw him today, so we continued our essays as the outside world no longer mattered. Pen's owner was also sympathetic to our kind, which was why he offered us discounts and refuge, an elderly gentleman who could move far quicker than I gave him credit for when I first met him. I genuinely believed that books were what's keeping him going. He would pop in from time to time, inspecting the shelves for any spaces to fill in, always with a smile and a nod towards the two of us.  

"It's not fair..." 

It was Aaron, his head buried inside the pages, and I wasn't sure if he was talking about the essay we were in the middle of, or... 

"They'll find whoever did that. You know that, right?" I assured him, but found that it did little to reassure myself. I knew just how much of a lie those words were.  

"There's no point. She's not like us, she doesn't give a damn about us, Ian..." 

"I'm sorry, I just -" 

"Listen, I know. We're all in the same boat, I just wish I wasn't a synthie, or whatever. I'm getting tired of it." 

His eyes were covered in dark bags, the guy hadn't gotten much sleep over the past week.  

"I think about that too, sometimes. Hey, we'll tough it out. We always do." 

"Thanks." 

"Hey, Aaron?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I'm not sure I want to be called Ian anymore. I know it's weird but...the name doesn't belong to me. It belonged to, you know, him. I'm thinking of changing it." 

Please don't ask me why I suddenly decided to dump that information on him, but every time I heard the name, whenever someone addressed me like that, I died just a little bit inside. The name didn't belong to me, & it never would. I felt like I was trapped inside someone else's body, a body that wasn't mine to begin with. 

In a way, I was. 

"You...you are? I haven't thought about things like that. I kinda like the name Aaron to be honest! What name have you decided on?" 

This was why I loved him: he just simply accepted what I said and went along with it.  

"I'm not sure yet, leave it with me," I answered, nudging his shoulder before we both returned to the matter of our assignments.  

It would take a solid sixty minutes – and some tea provided by Pen's owner – before we were finally finished, but by then it was getting pretty dark outside. From the single circular window in the room, we could see the flood lights in the far-off distance as they illuminated the wall, while the rest of the city was bathed in artificial lighting. You couldn't make out the dome at all at this time of night, it almost felt like we were free again... 
We agreed to meet up outside the store in the morning – it was a weekend, with exams some time next week, so we promised ourselves to help prepare for it - and went our separate ways. I turned back to watch him as he headed home, worried about him.  

In here, such worry was the norm for us. We only made up roughly 5% of a population of fifteen million. Even at night, I could feel everybody staring at my near-translucent skin, covered in those same damn veins. Aaron had the misfortune of being 'created' with a scar that ran along the course of his right cheek. Barely-noticeable, but a clear-cut sign to everybody else, it seemed. It didn't make any sense to me, when we were all in the same position: trapped inside a glass dome while the rest of the planet was covered in radioactivity, thanks to the nuclear weaponry of The Third World War. Even in a city this large, it was suffocating, and we should be looking for a way out.  

Platoons are already out there, judging the atmosphere, collecting waste for the generators...they'll figure something out... didn't you hear what the great & mighty Mayor told us?

I dragged myself unwillingly back home. I had no complaints about it, sometimes it was even nice to come back to the familiarity of it all. It didn't matter that I would walk until the bag on my back made my shoulders ache, because even that was more appealing than grabbing another bus. At least out here, when everybody was left behind along with the skyscrapers, I was able to think, breathe fresh air, and generally be alone.  

I wasn't willing to pick a fight tonight, especially with relatives coming over, so I decided to play the part and prepared my smile when I eventually brushed through our gate and into our door.  

Only to find the place was packed with people. More than just relatives, and every single one of them stopped what they were doing and looked at me.  

"Ian!" 

My Mom was drunk, sweeping past everybody else and cuddling me with all her might, smelling like the champagne that was saved only for special occasions. She even took the time to be wrapped up in an embarrassingly-tight red number which just showed too much.  

"Mom – I was just going upstairs..." 

"You're not going to stay here? Oh come on, you're old enough to have a little champagne now! Celebrate with us!"  

"...what are we celebrating?" 

"My promotion, you silly! That bitch Cynthia finally got ursurped!" 

This...wasn't like my Mom at all. Before I was even created she stayed at home. She managed to rise up quickly through the ranks once she was hired in whatever company she worked for now, and I heard small muttering about whoever that woman was every now and again. I didn't pay much attention. I just didn't want to.

I was about to congratulate her – out of politeness more than anything else - but by then she was surrounded by what were probably her colleagues, forming a wall between the two of us as they headed towards the kitchen. I didn't mind, it meant less acting on my part. Dad was nowhere to be seen, so I decided to take his absence as an opportunity  and - 

"Ian?" 

I spoke too soon, it seemed.  

Dad was lounging on his favorite recliner, also pretty damn drunk if the three cans of lager were anything to go by. He wasn't that great at holding his drink, and he looked fit for bed. He looked at me with exhausted eyes, beckoning me to come closer. A few minutes of conversation wouldn't hurt, I gathered, so I decided to humor him.  

"You know, son...I'm proud of you," he stuttered, pausing between sentences with another chug of alcohol, "You're a grown man now, you're almost out of school...you decide what to do with your life?" 

"Journalism," I lied, knowing he wouldn't remember tonight in any capacity, and that answering with a profession – any profession – would move things along just that little bit quicker. Journalism wasn't even a very satisfying career in a place like this, even in a city this large everything seemed to have been covered already. There was nothing exciting and new to report. I quietly felt relieved that it wasn't what I wanted in reality. 

"Journalism...ah..." 

"So I'm going to do some homework..." 

"Ah, he always got it out of the way, as well," he slurred, taking another swig and staring off into the distance, "You're just like him..." 

I didn't want to hear this, so I bid him goodnight...but he was already asleep (a miracle, considering the noise that was going on inside the kitchen,) by the time I made it to the first step.  

I had exams to study for. The last thing I wanted was an existential crisis. 

" We only politely ask that we are viewed on equal terms with every other citizen of this city. There is clear evidence that we are being discriminated against in terms of education, employment, and general quality of life. You officially claim that we are products, but we are not your machines" - Kiyoko Itsutchi, Spokesperson for the Synthetic Union, in a speech delivered shortly before her disappearance. Police investigations have failed to publicly speak about the ongoing investigation.

Morning rain woke me up – just like it always had.  

It must have been precisely 9:30 am, because that was when the automated systems far above all of us sprayed the entire place with rain - the exact amount needed to keep the trees & the vegetation alive and not a drop less. It didn't stop it from soaking the city from head to toe, but it dried up quickly enough. I was always either in school when it happened, or the sound of droplets hitting against my window woke me up. 

It was the same thing, day in and day out.

I had plenty of daylight to kill, but even when I opened my curtains and took a good long look up into the sky I could see nothing but dark grey clouds. That didn't happen very often, and the flood lights were still on, which was unusual for this time of the day. There might have been a storm out there, not that it mattered inside our safe little dome. I could make out the artificial forest in the background, great big oak and sycamore numbers which helped cover our little suburb from the skyscrapers. I got dressed pretty quickly, deciding that breakfast in the city would probably be the best option, considering the party last night.  

That fact became increasingly obvious by the time I made it down the stairs.  

I didn't want to walk in there, but I could see a complete stranger slumped against one of our kitchen stools, dressed in a suit, snoring. I didn't need to guess that there were more of them – including Mom. She was going to have a hard time recovering from her latest drunken episode. A quick glance in the living room, and Dad was slumped in the same place I left him in.  

I put on my favorite dark jacket, and made my way out into the rain.  

It was nothing more than a drizzle now, which didn't bother me in the slightest. It was too early to call any of my pals yet, but I was craving some honey-covered pancakes, and I knew just the place for them. On the same street as Pens lay a gorgeous café, covered in warm shades of brown, with food to die for. Tusands was also Synthetic-friendly, which couldn't be said for every store in the city itself... 

I decided not to think about that. It wasn't even ten in the morning.  

People were already up and about – not everyone got to lie in bed on a weekend - and by the time I had negotiated the slight hill that led me to my destination they were already pouring out onto the streets, traffic jams and every inch of the sidewalk filled with them. This place never seemed to stop moving, and they never seemed to stop shoving me as they walked past.  

Was it intentional? 

Safe inside and covered in rain, I took off my coat and hung it on the nearest coat rack. I was thankful that there was a seat just waiting for me on the edge of the ground floor. My bagpack was used to secure the place, while I began ordering my favorite option from a jolly old woman who I could never understand. She seemed to have a speech impediment, though I could easily point at what was on offer, and she made the best confectionery on the planet.

Literally.

She seemed especially sweet today, and I handed her the money with a smile and a thank you as she gathered four 'cakes onto my plate. With breakfast taken care of, I took my place and opened one of my books, hoping to finally understand the aspects of The Third World War before Monday. It was generally straight-forward – two-hundred years ago, the biggest nations with nuclear weaponry decided that they were bored and simply just launched salvo after salvo against each other. More than a billion people died, and the planet became uninhabitable. It was a completely stupid thing to do, and I was sure nobody on either side of the war were thinking about the long-term consequences when they blew everything to hell. Nobody knew who fired the first shot, but it hardly mattered. I stopped thinking about it and continued scribbling down notes, listening to the people passing by the window, the crowd chatting inside this safe space, and the clatter of pots and plates that became part of the background.  

I was due to meet up with Aaron again today, as well as another pal of ours – Hayley. Just like Aaron, she was going through some small bout of pain, but she fought against her family from calling Fibrtech about it. You would too, if you saw her even once in your life. She was a sweet girl, but she was incredibly headstrong, incredibly determined, and was more than willing to put up a fight. So far, she managed to keep herself out of that place, but I was starting to worry about her. She decided to put on a brave face and head outside for a while, she complained about lying in bed with homework to keep her company.  

They treated us differently. Even in medicine... 

I stopped thinking about that as well, but it wasn't easy... 

As I continued writing notes, the sun started to peer through the storm clouds overhead, and suddenly the city seemed a lot more...friendly? Maybe it was the way the cold concrete of several of the buildings took on a warmer hue, or that the small trees planted every fifty yards or so on the pavement suddenly lit up, but it momentarily made me forget about being trapped in this place. It almost seemed nice.  

Until I noticed somebody staring at me, and suddenly I remembered why I wanted out.  

The lady was in her thirties, surely, thinking her blanket of hair was enough to stop me from noticing that ice-cold glare. It wasn't, and it was getting uncomfortable. She could see me staring right back at her, couldn't she? Did she care?  

"Can I help you?" I asked after an uncomfortably-long period of silence, moving my book to the side. She continued staring at me, shaking her head ever-so-slightly as her food went cold.  

"Fake..." 

Her eventual comment hurt a lot more than it should have, but I refused to let it show. I was subjected to it for as long as I could remember, I wasn't about to cave now.  

"I'm real," I added, more than used to the term, pretending that I didn't care in the slightest as I took a bit out of what was left of my pancake, looking away. It was an incredibly insulting thing to insinuate, especially after Kiyoko was still missing even after several hours of searching. 

"No you're not. You're just synthetic! You came from a bottle! You're unnatural, a freak!" 

"A freak?" I protested, knowing well that she was getting the better of me but deciding not to care at that present moment in time, "We're just as valid as anybody else!" 

"Hey, give the kid a break. Would you like it if I said that about you?" A man interrupted during her little hate speech, glaring through his glasses.

"It's none of your business!" Another person chimed in, this time siding with the lady.

The rest of them turned silent as soon as she went ahead with her tirade of abuse, obviously, but most of them seemed to stare at me just like she had, like they were harboring the same level of hate she displayed. My purple veins seemed to stand out like a bullseye now, something for them to hone onto, a sign that I was cloned, copied, unoriginal. It hurt. It hurt like hell.  

"You shouldn't exist, taking away our jobs, eating our food when we barely have enough to feed ourselves. Go find somewhere else to spend our money." she simply stated a little sickening smirk to go along with it, and she returned to her food, satisfied. I, meanwhile, was on the verge of tears, and nothing I could do was enough to keep them from falling. I decided to give up, wrapping my bag around my shoulders and leaving my plate on the table, grabbing my coat as I left. I took one last glancing look at the customer who actually stood up for me, the lady who served me, and they seemed genuinely upset over what had happened...but that was it, they was the only people who seemed to give any sort of a damn about me. I was outside and covering my face as best I could so nobody could see that I was crying profusely, and I seemed to bump into the world of strangers before I took a quick detour down a little ally so I would be out of people's way. I sat on my bag, head huddled around my knees, letting the emotion get the better of me in semi-privacy.  

Was she right? Was everybody who agreed with her right?  

It must have been ten minutes or so before I decided I couldn't stay there any longer, and I wanted my eyes to look semi-okay for when I met up with my friends. I slung my bag over me again, re-joining the crowds, vowing not to be taken off-guard again today. It was a lot easier said than done, but I eventually blocked everybody out, knowing that they were probably making some sort of comment about me as I shouldered past them, but I had already had my fill of abuse for the day. 

So I decided to change our plans for the day. It also meant Hayley would have less of a distance to walk, and let's face it - I wasn't going to study today. None of us were. 

Aaron was right where he said he would be, after just stepping out from his parent's car. I waved as they drove back. His mother waved back, smiling warmly. It was a nice change from just fifteen minutes ago. 

"Hey, you okay?" he began, obviously taking a good long look at my reddening eyes, something I had no control over, "What happened?"

"I don't want to stay here. Can we go somewhere else for the day?"

"Yeah of course! Where?"

"Treehouse, in Elm's Park. I need to get away from people," I replied weakly, trying to rub my eyes on the fly, I hated him looking at me like that, mostly because he had probably seen that look from me more times than I can count. 

"Sure, you think Hayley will be up for it?"

"I hope so," I dialed her number into my phone, pressing it up against my ear, but all I heard was the connection timing out. I tried calling her again, but it only gave me the same reply. I shook my head, but Aaron promised he'd try and contact her while we were walking towards the place. I didn't argue against it. 

We left the place behind, all the people and the buildings and the traffic. We walked in silence for more than half the trip, we were well used to being comfortable without speaking a word to each other, but it proved to be too much for my friend just as we turned off the pavement and began climbing the well-worn path in the grass, the closest thing to a hiking path in this damn place. 

"We'll get through it," he reminded me, borrowing what I had told him only the night before, "we'll stick together. Not going to let a buddy of mine feel like this, you hear me?"

"You know, you're not really good at playing the tough guy," I answered back with an undeniable smirk, knowing that he was able to crack me up in an instant. His attempt at sounding threatening - the deliberately-deep voice, the puffed chest, the wide arms, I remembered when we first met, mocking the soldiers who sounded just like that, moving just like that, at the first mandatory parade I was forced to watch. 

"Well maybe not, but I know a guy who knows a guy," he continued with a wink, "plus, we could just let Hayley loose on them. She'd take care of them in thirty seconds flat!"

He was right. She would have only needed fifteen. 

He tried calling her this time - and she answered almost instantly. He told her where to meet us, and she was more than happy with the change of venue. I almost felt like apologizing for making him carry his entire set of books on his back, now that we weren't actually going to Pens to study. At least we could have at least pretended to get something constructive done.

"How did she sound? Any better?"

"She...she sounds weak, man. I'm not going to lie," Aaron replied, frowning slightly, "I just hope it was the connection, but she's going to have to go and see what's wrong, sooner or later."

"What if she ends up like Miranda?" We would never know precisely when she passed, and they weren't going to make the information public, either. It made me angry, erasing somebody's life like that. Except we weren't considered people in any sense of the word. Officially, we were going to always be considered 'ongoing trial experiments'.

"It's probably something pretty minor, but it's better than carrying on like nothing's wrong, even if there is. You know, people go to hospital all the time. Some get out, others don't. It's the same story here."

"Was that Aaron? Because you sounded like a completely different person there," I added bluntly, just as we were heading towards the forest of trees, moving past leaves and low-slung branches. 

"Just something one of the guys in white told me when I was inside," he admitted, slightly apologetically, "trying to make me feel better about the whole thing, I guess."

"Putting us in the same hospitals as regular people would make us feel better about the whole thing."

"Ian..."

I spun around, facing him. his scar was especially prominent today, maybe it was just the trick of the light, He flinched when I turned around, like he thought I was going to take a swing at him, or something. 

"I'm not Ian."

"I didn't mean that, I was stupid...I'm sorry."

It wasn't his fault. Of course it wasn't his fault, I was the one who was having a little temper tantrum inside the middle of the forest, hidden from absolutely everybody else. 

"No, it's not fair for me to act like that. It's because of what happened earlier this morning just...forget about the whole thing, alright?"

"Alright." He was fantastic in that once he was aware that the other person didn't want to talk about a certain thing, he would drop the subject immediately. I wish I could have said the same for almost everybody else. 

The treehouse we were heading towards was a long-abandoned heap of wood that was only a meter or so off the ground, but it was something that the original Ian Kenzie built with most of his friends...before the accident. I immediately felt like a hypocrite for my spat back there, especially considering that we were going to a place that technically belonged to him. Still, I agreed with him on one thing; this place was the perfect hiding spot when things got a little too tough. Only a select few pals of mine knew about this place, and I only had a few pals to begin with. The wood was rotting away - even though the leaves around it did their best to stop the rain from falling on it every single day - and the rope that was fastened to it was only holding on by a few fibers. Not that we needed to use it, or anything. I was the first to help myself inside, and I grabbed Aaron's bag & hauled it to one side while he pressed himself up onto the floor. This place was covered with memorabilia from when he was alive - drawings that belonged to his thirteen-year-old hands, along with most of his friends. They left handprints scattered around the wall, the paint holding remarkably well compared to the rest of this rotting place. 

But what got me the most was the picture, tattered and discolored, that hung on the tree bark that this 'house wrapped itself around, with a hastily-created flag draped above it. It was him, one of the few pictures I had seen of him, alongside everybody else who worked on making this place during some summer a few years back. Obviously, they had some of their parents work on it - all except my Dad of course, he was too busy making sure it rained at exactly the same time every morning and night - but they were all wearing gloves, and they were all smiling as my original had my arms stretched to take the photo. The rest of them were still in the same class as me in school, not that they paid attention to the guy who looked exactly like the friend they lost, but who didn't act like him at all. 

"What do you want to do?" Aaron asked absentmindedly, looking at the same picture I had. He'd visited this place enough not to ask me how I felt about it, because obviously I was attached to it. I knew that it had an earthy smell, and the damp from the wood was rubbing off of my back now, but it was only here where I felt at my most comfortable. I hoped my eyes managed to look like I hadn't bawled my eyes out earlier, I didn't want Hayley asking what's wrong, either. 

"We can just chill, or whatever."

"Yeah, actually, I want to show you something!" He suddenly decided to announce, reaching into his bag. I wasn't exactly in the mood for school books at the moment, but then I realized that wasn't what he was reaching for. Instead, one of the greatest comics I had ever seen was laying on my lap, completely covered in laminate so the cover wouldn't get damaged. 

"Is that..." I couldn't even finish the question, I was a little breathless.

"Oh yes!"

I couldn't say much more, because Aaron's phone rang. He answered it pretty quickly, I assumed it as Hayley, but his smile slowly started to fall off his face the longer he got into the conversation. When he was done, he slid the phone back into his pocket, even paler than usual. 

"What happened?" I asked, genuinely concerned, that almighty comic forgotten. 

"That was Hayley's Mom," he whispered, "they did it. They called Fibrtech. She's being sent there tomorrow."

*

So of course we jumped out of that damn treehouse, we sprinted through the trees - ignoring all the scrapes that came with it - and we were hauling ourselves back towards the city, back towards all the stupid people and all their stupid prejudges, 

But none of that mattered, because Hayley was in trouble. 

She lived just on the edge of the city itself, where the high-rise buildings started to spring up every twenty meters or so. Compared to them, her house looked tiny, even when it was three storeys and easily the most lavish building out of the three of us. Her parents were well-off, they didn't exactly need to remortage their home when they were selected for Fibrtech's 'trial' like my parents had. I was heaving for breath, but Aaron stopped sooner still, still recovering from his time inside there. Still, we kept moving as quickly as we could until we pretty much slammed ourselves against her door, knocking on it repeatedly until one of them answered the door. It was Hayley's mother, Beatrice. She obviously didn't expect us to be here. 

"She can't come outside," she said before we had a chance to get our breath back. 

"We just want to see her," I pleaded, and there was no way I was going to be politely told to get lost and have that door closed in front of my face. She sighed, closing her eyes and nodding to herself. 

"She's upstairs, but you only have twenty minutes. She needs to rest."

Hayley? Needing to rest? I knew the girl almost as much as I knew myself, which meant I knew that if she couldn't even make it outside of bed today, then something was wrong. 

Very wrong.

All of the curtains were drawn, and I tried to apologize as sincerely as I could for the both of us pretty much breaking and entering her home without any real input, but Beatrice smiled and assured us it was okay when she closed the door quietly behind us. We were so hellbent on seeing our friend, it was almost easy to forget how much this must have been affecting her parents, as well. 

I decided to think about that a little more after we made sure Hayley was okay. 

We made it to her room, right on the top floor, and there she was, lying in her bed. She was fast asleep, hair draped over her eyes, covered in sweat. Her dark skin suddenly seemed a lot paler to the girl she usually was, her right hand clasped against her stomach, her breathing ragged. She must have heard us barge in, though, because her eyes opened weakly after a few seconds. Only when they were open was when anybody could see the damage caused to her right eye, a surgical scar that cascaded vertically from her face, dragging the skin below her eye along with it. 

They had the nerve to blame this sort of thing on 'faulty DNA'? Bullshit!

"You guys," she whispered, the world away from the confident person we loved, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?"

"I dunno, I'm just sorry, right? I should have...held out a little bit longer."

"Hayley, you sounded alright on the phone," Aaron stated, worry in his voice, something you could pin-point from a mile away, "you couldn't have felt this much worse in the last hour, could you?"

She couldn't answer, not for her lack of trying. She held on to her stomach like something was tearing apart inside of her. She gritted her teeth. 

"This...only happened...an hour ago...I don't know...what's going wrong..."

He had no choice, Aaron ran downstairs. He was obviously going to tell her mother just how bad she was feeling, and there was really no way of sugarcoating it; she needed to go to Fibrtech. 

"Where is that...bastard going?" she cried weakly, "he better not be selling me out!"

"We need to take you somewhere where they can treat this," I pleaded, crouching down beside her and holding her hand. She was absolutely red-hot. 

"I ...they'll never let me out again," she cried, squeezing my hand, "I don't want to go in there."

"You'll be out of there again, I promise," so there I went, making promises I knew I couldn't keep one way or another. I couldn't lose her, though. Not in a million years. 

Beatice rushed inside, almost sweeping me aside as she placed her hand up against her daughter's forehead, getting the same reaction I had. 

"You're going to have to leave," she told me. "They're on their way."

I nodded, that was all I could do, wasn't it? I reminded Hayley one more time - the girl who stood up for me countless times when anybody dared turn on me - that everything was going to be okay, and that's when I heard a knock on their door, three storeys below. 

Fibrtech were quick, that much I couldn't say against them. 

Aaron and I stood on the other side of the pavement as we watched the heavily-armored vehicle parking outside their door, a pair of men in over-sized lab coats escorting Hayley on a stretcher, her hand still clutching her stomach for dear life, the color drained completely from her cheeks. 

"You don't really think...she's going through the same thing as Miranda, do you?" he asked me, reminding me of that very same question I asked earlier, and it was only then that I realized just why she was holding her stomach like she was trying to rip it open and tear out whatever was clawing at her from the inside. Was it her kidneys? How could they be both afflicted with the same sort of condition? If it was true, then what did that mean for the rest of us? 

"Aaron, shut up." was all I could say as I watched them tear down the road instantly, carrying her towards the edge of Oceyron, to where we were created.

Why did it feel like that was the last time I was going to see her?

"A large number of protestors gathered outside Fibrtech Industries this morning in protest to a number of 'recalls' made earlier this week. A small portion of the Synthetic population have been experiencing unforeseen difficulties, although officials are quick to downplay the seriousness of the condition. It comes during the wake of CEO Antonio Armado's death, with his synthetic counterpoint taking up office. The protest was dispersed with water cannon, and several members have been arrested. 

In other news, Synthetic advocate Kiyoko Itsutchi has been found after an extensive search on the outskirts of the other circle. Investigations are still ongoing" - Reporter Usain Mohammad, speaking on 3XN news as a supposed peaceful protest organized by the Synthetic Union was dispersed by force. 

We trekked towards the city again, and to be honest neither of us were exactly in the mood to talk considering what had happened. I wanted to say something, obviously, but there was nothing that could really come out of my mouth that could make today even a tiny bit better. There was a lump in my throat, something I tried to get rid of by swallowing over and over again. It clearly didn't work, it just sat there, reminding me. 

Hayley was gone, and it wasn't looking good. 

There was an outside storm, you could actually see the rain dripping down from the dome if you squinted really hard, and that meant that the flood lights were switched on much earlier than normal. There wasn't a single thing we could come up with that could spin a positive light on things, and it was clear on Aaron's face that he wasn't in the mood for anything. I kept watching the outside world, the flashes of light, the big dark clouds, everything we couldn't really experience in here.

He wanted me to take him towards the store I was forced to leave this morning, but I assured him that it wasn't their fault. That, and I just wasn't in the mood to go back. Not for a while, anyway. Tusands was one of my last remaining options where nobody would hackle me in public, and now I had to scribble that off my list. I decided that I had to go back to Pens in the morning, with a CV and a determination to get some sort of disposable income for myself, try and move out into a place of my own in the next year or two.

I invited Aaron, but he was busy.

The streets were especially packed today, and not a lot of people were going anywhere in particular. I couldn't tell what was going on, and neither could he, so we moved closer to investigate. It seemed like everybody had flooded into the place, not just on the pavements but on the streets too. 

It was only when we turned a corner and headed towards the most congested part of the city did we see them – they were back, and they were back earlier than they were meant to be.

The Helmsmen. "The soldiers who captain Oceyron to our new frontier."

There were several dozen of them, covered in head to toe in full-body battle armor, having been presumably decontaminated. They were carrying rifles, with two tanks backing up the rear. I couldn't make any of them out from behind their visors, though several of them were cracked. I noticed that some of their armor plates were scorched...or removed altogether.

"They’re never back this early..." Aaron muttered, and I had to agree with them. If it took two days to decontaminate, it meant they had only been on the outside for little over a day.

"What happened?" I asked, rushing towards the nearest officer, despite Aaron's objections. The soldier I eventually caught up with was limping slightly, the armor plate which should have covered that leg missing entirely, exposing the under-body suit underneath. They continued walking despite my question, but I wasn't going to be denied. I kept asking, even when people glared at me – a filthy clone to them – disapprovingly. Eventually, I succeeded in getting their attention, and they stopped as their fellow platoon carried on. This one actually kneeled down so it could take a good long look into my eyes, although I could only see my reflection in kind. It was only when she spoke that I realized that she was a woman.

"That's classified, Synthetic."

That was all she said to me before she stood up and carried on walking, like I wasn't even there. It was the way she said that last word, with such hatred, that knocked the wind out of my body. If anything, it was even worse than what I had faced this morning. This person had a gun, and she sounded like she would love nothing more than to use it on me.

"Hey! You there."

It was an officer, nowhere near as elaborately suited as the returning soldiers, but still in full, crisp uniform. Just like them, his face was obscured by a dark-black screen, one that didn't really offer any sort of reflection whatsoever. It only dawned on me a second or two after that as to why I attracted his attention - the 'parade' was mandatory, even if it was scheduled a little earlier than planned - and Aaron and I were unaccounted for. The man grabbed my hand, and I knew better than to try and resist it, even though his grip hurt like hell. He reached for a rectangular glass sample from his front pocket, placing it on top of my outstretched palm. It soon scanned my fingerprints, adding me into the roster of people who were present. I informed the officer that Aaron still had to be screened, and he impatiently followed me towards him. My friend knew the protocol just as well as I did, so he didn't sat a word when he forcibly grabbed him, as well. 

"Don't show up late again," he grunted at the both of us, "the next time, I will have to inform the Mayor. Maybe you'd like to have a private audience with him!"

"It won't happen again," I promised him, but he just shook his head and shrugged, taking off in search of more people to document, I guess. My arm still hurt from where he grabbed me, and it was probably going to bruise in the next few days. They were never as aggressive with the normal folk around here. 

Since we had absolutely no choice, we just stood there and watched as the rest of them moved towards the center of the city. One of them had no helmet worth mentioning, carrying what was let of it in his hands. Another SUV moved cautiously behind him, and the entire thing just looked like it had barely survived a bomb. It was...slightly terrifying. They always came back in pristine condition, always forcing us to clap and cheer when they waved at us, like they had single-handedly saved the planet, or something. 

This time, there was no waving. There was no cheering, it was just silence. 

I grabbed Aaron's arm and we moved along with them, trying to figure out just where they were going - they never traveled down this particular stretch of road before, they always marched on the opposite side of the city, working their way toward their HQ in a sealed-off section of the dome, only accessible to military personnel. Aaron was struggling, asking me repeatedly what I was planning, but he shut his mouth real quick when we finally barged through enough people for us to get a good look with what was going on. 

The entire center - and I mean all of it - was filled with them, it was nothing but a sea of charred and broken armor, a sea of broken Helmsmen. More then a half-dozen tanks parked menacingly in all directions. They all stood at rigid attention, not moving an inch. From where we were, we could look down on them slightly, perching ourselves right at the barriers that were hastily constructed to keep the general public away from them. A generous podium stood right at the heart of all of this, and I could see the person standing right in the middle, even if I couldn't make him out as anything more than a spec. 

It was Avery Filtyr. It was the Mayor. 

"I don't like the look of this," Aaron whispered, "I've never actually seen him in the flesh before!"

"Neither have I."

"What do you think they found out there? Whatever it is, it must have put up a hell of a fight."

"There's nothing out there," I reminded him, but how was I meant to know that? For all I knew, these men and women could have encountered an entire army of radioactive beasts, horrific creatures which wanted revenge for the way we destroyed their planet all those centuries ago. Maybe worse, they could have been hit with that solar flare everybody kept talking about. What happens if they were right? What would happen if our sun actually did die? Would we be safe in here? 

For some reason, I actually preferred the thought of something out there. 

Whatever sort of projector they had, it was a whole lot more advanced than the ancient example we had inside our school. Filtyr's avatar suddenly winked into life, and it was huge, almost as big as some of the buildings themselves. digits scrolled through his entire body, every single line and crease from the man himself copied to his virtual counterpart, capturing his every movement in real-time. 

The man looked exhausted. 

"My fellow people of Oceyron!" He declared, stretching his hands like he was beckoning to each and every one of us, it was frightening to see something so huge right in front of us, "I would like to extend my thanks in joining me in welcoming back home, the men and women who provide such an essential service to our city!"

Then came the compulsory clapping, and we didn't have much choice but to go along with it. There were enough officers peppered among the crowd to see if we weren't giving anything less than our full co-operation. 

"Now you may ask why we are gathered here today, and why I may be addressing you all personally," he continued, and his avatar closed his eyes, nodding to himself, "and while I'll do my best to put your minds at ease, I cannot simply cover up the truth. You deserve to know what is happening around you. The world outside is a dangerous place, a place in which we understand very little. Our forefathers unleashed an all-out war which tore our once-beautiful planet to shreds. Since then, we had created the bubble that we live in to this very day."

He strolled around his podium, and of course his virtual self followed, pinching the bridge of his nose, lost in thought. 

"Our forefathers, they knew nothing of the consequences of their actions. There are dangers out there - dangers which evolved in the mess outside our beloved home, and these brave soldiers encountered them mere days ago."

Everybody around us started whispering, many of them scared. I could see a little girl holding onto her parent's hand as tightly as she could, asking if everything was going to be okay. Her father promised her that it would, but you could see that he was scared, too, and he didn't have anybody to look up to and ask if everything was going to be alright. 

"It is of the utmost importance, then, that we remind ourselves of the incredible achievements we have made, and the incredible achievements we will make in the future! We will band together during our greatest time of need, and we will defeat anything that breathes outside our walls!"

More mandatory clapping, not that it took my mind off of anything he said, or of what happened to Hayley. It was hard to resist the propaganda machine when it forced you to stand there and listen to it, but I almost believed in the words this man was speaking, like he genuinely wanted us to stand together as equal in the face of all the uncertainty outside. 

But then I remembered how we were treated, and I suddenly remembered that he was a man I just couldn't trust. 

"In light of these new developments, however, we simply must take new security measures. Our officers will now station and patrol our grand wall twenty-four hours a day, and we will require those living closest to the edge of our world to be relocated further into Oceyron. We will, of course, provide the monetary support, but it is for the protection of our most vulnerable members of society."

This...this was unheard of, forcibly moving people out of their homes? I could already hear the anger is some people's mutters, not that they were able to do that for very long before some of the officers ordered them to shut up, of course. 

"Look!" Aaron whispered urgently to me, and when I glanced at what he was pointing at I could understand why. 

It was a single man, dashing right towards the Mayor himself. We could actually pick up on his screaming the closer he drew towards him and the speakers. Unfortunately, he couldn't move more than twenty feet before one of the soldiers lunged for him, moving quicker than any human being had a right to thanks to their power-assisted armor. He collided with the rogue protester, sending him tumbling. Even from here, I could see the blood coming from his nose, and the force of the collision bent his arm in an unnatural angle. 

That was suicide!

Another pair of them grabbed each of the man's arms, dragging him directly to where he wanted to go in the first place - right at Filtyr's feet. Somehow, the Mayor didn't seem all that frightened during the entire episode, still appearing as calm and collected as usual if his holographic projection was anything to go by. 

"How dare you?" He finally spoke, not even slightly taken aback by what just happened, "You dare interrupt the official address of the most highly appointed politician in our beloved city? Come! Let us see the face of this vigilante! Bring him up here!"

The pair holding him captive obliged, holding onto him so tightly we could actually hear the man cry out with every step they took. It was obvious his shoulder - maybe his entire arm - was broken from that tackle, not that it earned him any sympathy on their part. They forced him to stand in front of everybody...

That was when I could see his many scars, those veins, the slight way his nose was set, although that could have been from the way he landed face-first onto the tarmac. But it was obvious just who he was - he was one of us, a clone.

"Oh no..." I breathed out, and Aaron was completely silent beside me.

"You speak about our community," he murmured, with a heavy accent I just couldn't place, "you speak of banding together, you talk about being equal, but you're hiding from the truth! Many of us have to bow our heads in shame, subjected to discrimination! You talk about coming together to protect ourselves from the enemies outside, but what about the enemies inside? What about us? What about Kiyoko?  We are people too, not your stupid 'trials'! Not your stupid 'monsters' or 'freaks' or 'pets'!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Filtyr replied with about as much professionalism as any one person could have, "Our people are all treated with the same indifference and the same respect. Let us ask the people you claim to represent. Syntethics, do you agree with what your kind is saying? Do you feel like we're your enemy, after we clothed you, gave you a home, created you? Speak up now if you wish to challenge my claim. I promise you will be treated in a fair and courteous manner as fitting as a member of Oceyron!"

I wanted to - I wanted to raise my hand and walk right down there and tell him the truth; what people say to us, what people do to us, I wanted to tell him - and this entire city - everything. But I couldn't, and even if I wanted to I know what those officers would do if I so much as flinched. One of them stood right behind us, probably the same man who documented our presence here to begin with, and who knew where we were. I could feel his breath running down my neck, almost like he was right behind us, daring us to do something about it. Seconds moved by, and nobody else was volunteering. Filtyr sighed in confirmation, but the man who was held prisoner up there was slowly starting to crack, his eyes darting from place to place, his breathing becoming more staggered with each second that moved by. 

"It appears that your theory remains unfounded," the Mayor eventually admitted, "and you will serve time as befitting for the crime you have just committed. Now, escort him out of here, if you don't mind."

He was dragged away then, kicking and screaming, yelling that we were all blind to the real enemy...and I couldn't just stand here and listen to this anymore, because he was right. I didn't care anymore, I had to have my say in this, and I knew Aaron was going to try and stop me and I didn't care. 

But what did stop me shook me to my core, as that same man somehow managed to escape his captives, once again sprinting towards Filtyr! 

That was when two pairs of bullets exploded through the speakers, and he was dropped in an instant. 

That same little girl turned towards her parents then, planting her face right against his jumper, although she was too small to see exactly what happened, being more terrified of the noise than anything else. I saw everything, though. So did a lot of us, and it wasn't the sound that scared us most of all. He just laid there, completely lifeless, covered in blood, quickly forming a pool where his head was resting. This time, Filtyr couldn't pretend to be composed. He was clearly shaken, and one or two of his security had to come in and surround him, escorting him back to his limousine. Another one of them strode towards the microphone, switching the projector off before we could see his face enlarged in thin air. 

"Return to your homes immediately. Leave in a calm and civilized manner. Obey all instructions given by the police department."

Aaron grabbed me and dragged me away from where we were standing, trying to get as much breathing space between us and any form of officer as possible, but I couldn't tear my eyes from the lifeless body in the center of the center, being dragged away by the men who shot him dead...

"In the early hours of Thursday Morning First Mayor Avery Filtyr announced in his ninetieth Oceyron address that Synthetics will be brought under a mandatory curfew, effective immediately. It comes as the potential synthetic assailant, who targeted Filtyr during his live speech, was identified as Samuel Kroger. People have voiced their concerns for their safety to the authorities. The Synthetic Union have promised that there would be more protests in the weeks to come." - Journalist Katelyn Ericsson writing for The Oceyron Digest, documenting the implemented curfew of Synthetics after a failed assassination of Avery Filtyr. 
 

I never stopped thinking about what I saw.

it began haunting my dreams so that I would wake up in a sheen of sweat, my sore throat the only indication that I was screaming. The first night that happened, my parents rushed inside my room to see what was the matter. Now, they accepted it as part of the routine. Days and weeks passed by, and I was supposed to pretend that I hadn't seen somebody - one of us - shot down in cold blood. Everybody else seemed to get over it quickly enough, everyone except for us, the people he was brave enough to defend. The curfew was implemented every night at ten in the evening. It didn't bother me too much, considering I was never out that late anyway, but quite a few people I knew were forcibly brought back to their homes. Aaron was cautioned at one point, he was forced to stay at my house when his pleas to at least wait for his parents to pick him up were denied.

I talked about it with him, the possibility of joining the Synthetic Union, but he pleaded with me to keep my mouth shut in case they decided to throw some bullets my way. It was one thing doing what you thought was right, it was another thing entirely to get killed while doing it, and the both of us knew that we were each other's rock in this damn place, even if we never really said it openly to each other. 

Hayley hadn't come back, but we visited her parents every day without fail. To their credit, they were constantly on the phone, trying to arrange an appointment to visit her, always hassling the person on the other end. They were incredibly vague with their explanations, describing her as 'faulty' and that 'repairs' were underway, and her father wasn't having any of it. 

"She is our daughter! Not some robot you can tinker with!" I heard him shout one day, just as we knocked on their door. We obviously made up an excuse not to stay that particular afternoon, but it was good to see that some people cared about us. 

School was much the same, the same routines with grouping together whenever we walked down the halls, encouraging the younger freshmen not to listen to the comments, but there was only so much we could do. It was only a week ago when Aaron snapped, finally throwing a punch at the guy who seemed to be the one making all the threats. I had to admit, I didn't want to drag my friend away from him before he got in even more trouble than I knew he would, but it was very satisfying watching the guy on the ground, crying. 

That meant another trip to Fibrtech, though. He was only admitted overnight, but when he came back he was in tears, looking even paler than usual. He still hadn't opened up to me about what they did in there...

*

"Ian? You're not eating any of your food."

My Dad wasn't making that comment out of worry; it was a mild threat, more along the lines of you better eat your food. I understood why he was irritable, though, a crack was reported on the eastern side of the dome, apparently a kilometer in length across the glass. It wasn't letting any of the atmosphere out, and nothing radioactive was coming in, but he was on plenty of fourteen-hour shifts over the past two weeks while it was being repaired. That glass wasn't exactly meant to crack that easily, and people wondered if something had struck it. 

For Dad, it meant absolutely no free-time, and he was getting tired of it. 

"I'll put it in the microwave, I'll eat it later," I replied, and he simply carried on eating his own spaghetti & gravy, reading his favorite newspaper. Mom was out a lot, too - she soon began to regret getting that promotion from a few weeks back, something which forced her to do double the work for not a whole lot extra pay. I was left quite a bit on my own over the last while. 

Not that I was complaining. 

The bi-monthly addresses stopped. I hadn't seen Filtyr's face in quite some time, but to be perfectly honest I knew seeing him again would reintroduce those dreams. Everybody had their theory about what was going on; some say that the Mayor retired, allowing his brother to take charge, as only those from the Filtyr family line could assume that position. Others claimed that he moved outside Oceyron with the Helmsmen personally, but I doubted an unfit, middle-aged man would be much good against whatever creatures they faced on the outside. 

I also heard that the Mayor was planning on punishing all clones in retaliation. I didn't want to think of it as a possibility. 

I wrapped my food in foil and left it lying in the microwave, grabbing my bag and dragging it upstairs while I got to work on my homework. Math was the topic of the day, and all those algorithms were giving me a headache. I tried calling some other classmates who were going through the same workload I was, but none of them had a clue either. We didn't exactly have the best Math teacher on hand. It only took ten minutes before I gave up on the whole thing and tossed it to the other end of my bed, exasperated. I looked outside my window, looking at the flood lights, and the cranes that rose up towards the tip of the dome, way off in the distance. Dad was going to be there again in an hour, and he worked a full shift as it was. 

Yeah, I'd be annoyed too, if I were him. 

Knowing that I wasn't going to get that done, I dragged myself back towards the living room again, except this time I found my father staring at the TV, wondering what was going on. I asked him if he was okay, but he didn't listen. Curious, I took a look myself, and I could barely understand what I was looking at. I could read the words just fine, but it was why they were on our screen to start with that frightened me. 

<<Martial Law in place. Return to your homes immediately and await further instruction.>>

"What the..." I began, but Dad was flicking through every channel we could find, and they were all coming up with the same message. This never happened before, not in the entire time this dome was standing on its own foundation. That could only mean that something devastating had happened, and my mind raced back towards the crack in our dome. 

What those soldiers faced outside, were they here? Did they make it through the wall?

My heart was beating a whole lot quicker after that, and I wanted to call Aaron, to call anybody else who might make sense of it all, but when I did that same damn message relayed again and again by a robotic voice. 

<<Martial Law in place. Return to your homes immediately and await further instruction.>>

"Everything's down," Dad swore, peering outside the curtains and watching the mess outside. There were several patrol cars, their lights flashing but no sirens, and they were escorting several people back to their homes. One of them actually pulled up outside of our house, and Mom was taken out of the back seat, thanking them for the journey but obviously annoyed. She rushed inside as they took off again, slamming the door behind her. 

"What's going on?" She demanded, like we somehow knew more about this than her, "the place is a mess, all the streets are blocked off, I was basically dragged out of my office!"

"Honey relax, we're just going to have to ride this out until they tell us more."

"Is something happening outside? Is that why there's a giant damn crack in the glass? Tyler you've worked on that, explain it to me!"

"I don't know!"

While the both of them bickered, I kept calling Aaron, getting the same response again and again. I wanted to run to his house to see if he was alright, but there was a world of officers still roaming the place. Were they going to be out there all night? 

Was Hayley alright?

They were the only two people I cared about. I guess I already knew that at the back of my head, but it took an emergency like this to really open to my eyes to that fact. I couldn't lose her, and I couldn't lose him. End of discussion.

"Ian? Take a look at this!" Mom shouted, and I spun around to see if anything changed on the TV.

It had. 

The automated message wasn't there anymore. Instead, it was Antonio Armado...or his clone, to be precise. He very obviously looked a lot like us, & while he was no secret to us, this was the first time the CEO's copy was making the announcement.

Then he spoke. 

"This is a city-wide announcement from Fibrtech industries, issuing a recall of models AZ-10697 to XQ – 5736. There have been a number of examples who are displaying unknown and severe symptoms which, upon investigation, have become linked to degradation of the host DNA. We apologize for the great inconvenience that this may cause you. Replacements or refunds are, of course, available. Thank you for your co-operation." 

The scene instantly flickered back to that earlier announcement, but both of my parents looked at me in wide-eyed horror, with Mom rushing towards the kitchen.  

"What is she doing?" I demanded, but Dad stepped in front of me before I had a chance to follow her.  

"She's just checking your model number, calm down." 

"Model number?" That's my birth certificate, I'm not a machine!" 

She waved the papers as she walked back in, relieved.  

"Ian's not affected, thank goodness!" 

But I knew a likely candidate for who was: Aaron.

Any calls I made went straight through to that stupid message, so I dialed again, all with the same conclusion. I was starting to panic, forgetting even the way we were treated as products which could be replaced or refunded.  

"I have to go..."

Both of my parents stopped celebrating for a second to listen to what I muttered under my breath. 

"Go? No, you're staying here." Dad responded in his most stern voice possible.

"I have to go!" I cried, and even though he got a good hold of my jacket, I simply wiggled free from it, already barging through the door before they could run after me. They called out my name as I disappeared, but I ignored it.

There weren't a lot of officers left, & the rest of them were on the other side of our cul-de-sac, so I snuck past as quickly & as quietly as I could, hoping that my parents wouldn't call anyone left patrolling for them to run after their son. It really didn't matter now, I sprinted across the road and into what little shrubs were dotted around the place, hoping nobody noticed.

Even if they came after me, or called on the officers to bring me back, it was too late now. I made my mind up. 

The only thing I could do next was to run to his house. That was on the other side of the city, though, it would take too long before I could make it there.

What if he was affected? What if I was too late?

A recall...was that what all of this was about? Were they putting these protests down to faulty DNA? How many of us were affected? I wanted to call every single one of them, affected or not, because this wasn't going to be taken quietly. Being furious at the idea of being treated as products was one thing, but the thought of taking dozens of us, never again making it out of that facility? My blood was boiling, I had every damn right to be angry! Everyone like me in my school had a chance of being affected - and there were several schools dotted inside the city. To think that even one of them could be replaced... 

I wanted to think more about it, but heading back towards the city center itself, all I could see were soldiers, all of them armed. They had the street completely barricaded, and were busy escorting people away from the area. I ran towards them, right up to another marine. He immediately pointed his weapon at me, freezing me. This one lacked any sort of helmet whatsoever, so I could see the scars running down his face, the stubble, and the ticked-off eyes glaring into me.  

"Curfew in place, kid. Head home." 

"Curfew?" 

"What are you, deaf? Get back to your home, civilian!" 

That was when I saw it – a great big platoon of vehicles blaring through the streets,

There were so many of them, all of them Fibrtech recovery vehicles. Even from here I could hear their shouting, people trying to resist. I tried taking another step further, but that soldier closed the gap between me and him really quickly, almost full-on burying his gun into my stomach.In the background, that automated message was blaring from who knows how many speakers. It did its best to cover up the resistance by the people down by the streets.

"You hear that clearly?" He added, his rifle never trained away from me, "Now sod off!" 

I had very little choice but to listen to him - he was the one with the gun and I wasn't - while the message repeated again and again as more vehicles began to pool into the center, all military-spec. Several armored vans followed, flanked closely by soldiers, traveling at walking pace.  

Those recovery vehicles were being protected by the Helmsmen? 

They could have never have picked up clones affected by the recall that quickly, could they?  What could the explanation be otherwise?  

The Synthetic Union weren't going to stand for this, but what choice did they have? I thought of Aaron, about the freshmen who had only been alive for little over a year, any one of them could have been trapped inside,being led back into Fibrtech. The thought made me spin around again, hoping the marine hadn't paid attention.

He didn't.

He was heading towards his own vehicle, kicking the tyres as some sort of impromptu inspection. I was suddenly hit with a plan,something stupid, something I would have never attempted to carry out in all of my life before this moment, especially when it came to sneaking up on an armed solider, but the back of his SUV was open, a few boxes inside... 

Fear gripped my throat, but my legs moved on their own accord, deciding that this would be the only way I could catch up to Aaron and Hayley and the rest of the 'defect' clones, even try and save them from what the men in white were willing to do.  Closer and closer, I prayed he wouldn't see me from one of his mirrors, but by the time he started the ignition and began to take off, I had already (carefully) prized the door open, and scrambled into the back of the thing. It took off all of a sudden, and I nearly nearly lost my balance as it took off. Almost immediately, I looked for some sort of a place to hide – noticing one of the larger boxes on the right-hand corner. Even making the two steps toward it seemed impossible, as the vehicle took a sharp-right out of nowhere, making me slam into the wooden crate, grazing my right cheek. I grabbed onto it for dear life, opening the lid of it and sliding in before I had a chance to inspect the cut. Even now I could feel something dripping onto my arm as I struggled to place the lid over me again, sealing everything in darkness.  

The car suddenly stopped, so much so that some of the luggage had actually struck against this massive crate itself. It was terrifying, listening to the solider leave his car and open the door at the back, even climbing into the back to fasten what was already there. I could hear his footsteps just outside my hiding place, and all he needed to do was pry the thing open and I was a goner. Fortunately, he only decided to stop so he could tie down some of those loose crates, grunting with some sort of effort before I heard him leave.I heard him talking to what must have been no fewer than three of his buddies outside, all completely oblivious. I opened my phone again, but at this point it was pretty useless. They shut down everything in this dome, and there was no way of actually making contact. It didn't stop me from trying, but it kept relaying that same automotive message.

The chatter from outside was getting louder, plenty of laughter, like they didn't care about what was happening at all! 

"Really? Busting our asses just to escort these freaks? I prefer being outside, if you ask me." 

Outside? Outside the dome? 

"Yeah, babysitting these things isn't really what I had in mind for my weekend. One of them came up to me by the east side, ugly little things, you can spot those scars and veins from a mile off. I don't know why we make'em." 

"Some families have actually found them great, if you lost a sibling or partner, I mean." 

"Could you imagine having one of those things as your wife? Looking at those ugly little purple things every day? Not worth it." 

The rest of their conversation became a blur as I digested all of the crap I just heard, everything I already knew about people's hatred of my kind, except even more bitter than extreme. I wanted to put my head between my legs and sob, but now wasn't the time. If this SUV was escorting my friends to Fibrtech, I had to be ready too... 

"You coming to the parade, Marty? Look after these things?" 

"Me? N'ah, orders are orders, disposing of some waste out by Sector E-5. Meeting up with some of the platoons from Sectors 1 & 2. Those guys live the lap of luxury compared to this place, seriously." 

I had no idea what any of that meant, but the conversation was clearly over as I heard what must have been the driver door open soon after, the engine flicking into life. He made some sort of remark to his colleagues before I could feel my stomach lurch, the vehicle taking off again. What was clear from what I listened to, though, was that this Marty guy wasn't actually heading towards the Fibrtech plant itself, but towards Sectors 1 & 2, whatever that meant. That spelt bad news for me.  

I couldn't make out just how much time had passed, but this thing was traveling pretty far, not stopping once, which meant it wasn't aiming for the city at all. If I had to guess, it could only be using the single motorway which connected Oceyron to the inner and outer circles, connecting them to the center itself. Even with a road like that, it would take no more than fifteen minutes to travel from side to side at this speed. My heart was beating erratically, I had no clue what was going to happen once this thing stopped and I was left on my own. I didn't know what came over me when I crawled in here in the first place.  

What was going to happen to Hayley now? To Aaron? To all of them? What about the rest of the 'defect' clones? Were they untreatable? Did the normies even care? 

I couldn't see anything, but the SUV began to slow, before coming to a complete stop. This place was packed with machinery, judging by the sound of tyres moving alongside me, with several feet pounding on the ground. My escort began conversing with somebody else, laughing and throwing casual slurs at each other, it was confusing to eavesdrop on.  

"Okay Marty, but I have to say this anyway, you know the rules: By leaving this space, you will be threading in No Man's Land. It is your sole responsibility should anything go wrong out there, & Sector 7 will not be held responsible for any injury up to and including death. Do you accept these conditions?" 

"Jeez Ken, way to bring down the mood and everything," my driver replied, "but yes, for the hundredth time, I accept." 

"Then drive right through, shoot one of the bastards for me!" 

What did he mean by that? The promise of using live rounds suddenly made me feel a lot more terrified than I already was. Were they talking about my kind again? Or were they talking about whatever they faced out there a few weeks back?

Were we leaving the dome? What about the decontamination process? What happens if I was caught out in the radioactive air and nobody knew I was here? 

Oh no...oh no... oh no... 

It was too late now, I already signed my death warrant and the SUV was already marching right up to its top speed, and soon smooth tarmac gave way to bumpy gravel. We jumped and bumped all over the place, knocking me out of place, sending me around the crate like a rag doll. I must have gained another pair of cuts in the process; my entire body ached and my neck was in pain.  

I could hear Marty whoop in glee, completely oblivious.  

Time went by and I had no idea of tracking it, save for the amount of times I hit my head against something. It seemed like an hour before the car even showed any trace of slowing, and even then, not before it must have been sailing through the air before crashing back down to earth again. We had no terrain even remotely like this inside the dome, I realized that, and I waited until I ended up vomiting from either the radioactive waves I must have been exposed to by now, or the way this man liked to drive. Mercifully, this guy found the resolve to actually stop, bringing it to a halt so quickly I bashed my head one more time against the crate. It was a particularly bad knock, and now I could taste copper in the right-hand side of my mouth. His door opened, and once again he was right alongside me, leaping into the back and doing...I didn't know. I couldn't know, not when I was still completely blind, but he left again after what must had been a quick inspection. I breathed a sigh of relief, momentarily safe.  

Until I suddenly felt the floor beneath me tilt, unrelenting. 

I clung onto whatever I could for dear life, but my crate was doubling over. The Marine must had been able to 'dump' the content of his SUV with the press of a button, because now all I could feel was rolling over, my crate repeatedly flipping from end to end, doing so without a hint of stopping.  

He must have dropped me down a canyon, because the word hill couldn't describe the amount of time it took for me to make it to the bottom in one final, enormous crash. Light suddenly peered from the cracks made in its wall, and I could see the SUV far above me, with Marty peering down on the contents he just dropped. The back of his vehicle was indeed capable of tilting, nearly 90 degrees before it slowly wound back to its original position. My first instinct was to call for help, to beg him not to leave me there, but I knew what would happen if he knew I was here now. I was under no illusion that he brought his gun with him. He disappeared, and I could still hear the faint sound that came from its engine so far away as he took off, leaving me alone here. Coughing, I struggled to put my back up against something solid, praying nothing in my body had been broken. There wasn't, but my hand was nothing but cuts and bruises. I was confident the rest of my body didn't fare too well, either. I looked for my phone, but I couldn't find it. It was a waste of energy, either way. The thing was dead, which meant I no longer had access to anybody else.  

I was stuck here, in this radioactive No Man's Land. 

"We unanimously voted in favor of the program, Bophelo, but not for this purpose. We needed to focus on helping the people we already have, not to create new ones for the sake of it. You knew this. We discussed this. You will be punished for this." - Unknown

Okay. Don't panic, there has to be some way back...somehow. 

I wasn't very good at reassuring myself that everything would be okay, still trapped inside the crate, still flexing every part of my body to make sure nothing was broken. So far, I was in the clear, which was a good thing.  

The only good thing. 

Even attempting to move took a lot out of me, crawling in my confined space so I could peer outside. It was nothing but boulders and smashed crates just like mine...until I realized that there were a lot of them, clearly not the result of one journey. Not just crates, either – there was rubbish of every description, bags, many of them with biohazard markings in some shape or form. I suddenly reminded myself that I was out in the radioactive open, that I was probably going to die sooner rather than later, and I clutched my throat in some involuntary reflex. 

Except the air was...breathable. Perfect, even.  

Obviously, that didn't mean that I wasn't being hit with enough radiation to kill me in a month or two, but before I could worry about that I needed to leave my little hiding place, so I slumped back to one side, using my legs to kick my way out. They protested every movement, but I winced and gritted my teeth through it all, before finally my foot found the proper purchase. I smashed a hole large enough for my hands to do the rest of the work.  

Once I was able to poke my head outside, my neck in agony, I took the time to get a proper look at just where I was. It wasn't a canyon, but it was still a massive chasm with steep, diagonal drops on either side. Now that I was out in the middle of it all, the smell was only just starting to register, something foul and artificial. I couldn't tell if it was a result of where I was, or if the air quality was this poor everywhere else. Our dome purified the air multiple times before being released to the general public after all, my Dad explained it all to me at some point. Coughing, I took a curious look at the sky for the first time, expecting some unnatural green hue to match up with the image of an apocalyptic wasteland in my head, or whatever freak storm that somehow managed to crack that dome. I expected to see that collapsed sun.

Instead, it was royal-blue, the bluest I had ever seen it, turning darker almost every second .The sun was burning as brightly as it ever had, far from dying. It was...pretty. 

With my sightseeing concluded, my first thought was to leave, to try and climb all the way back up and plan my journey home. The chasm was covered completely in vines, several trees sprouting in every direction, although they had no leaves really worth mentioning. A mixture of greens and boulders, rock that didn't really look like they belonged there, yet there they were. I wasn't sure if I could even explain how I ended up on the other side of those walls to the military out here. At least, not without a gun being pointed in my face. I was probably being hit with enough radiation to warrant weeks of decontamination as it was. How was I going to explain this to everybody, to my parents, my friends? I thought of Hayley, of Aaron, of the announcement.  

I couldn't save them.  

Seething. Yes, that was the word for it. Limping for a way out, angry, kicking aside anything that was in my way, I kept moving, spotting a relatively-level path that could – hopefully – help me out of this place. With every step I took, I grew more & more worried for the folks back home. Forcibly taking 'defected' clones was going to start a riot, and it looked like it already had. Fibrtech had never stooped this low, disrupting our lives like we were simply faulty items to them, nothing but their little toys.  

Because we were...and I was planning on going back there? But there was nothing out here, either. It was ironic, really; I wanted to leave, and now I had left without knowing what to do next.  

Something managed to catch my attention out of the corner of my eye, something that made me stop and stare at it. It was a container, like almost everything else here, but it was canary-yellow, standing out. The biohazard symbol on this one took up an entire side of it, with several warnings written on it.  

Warning: Extremely toxic. Unsuccessful DNA manipulation. Dispose outside of sector 7. 

Again with the sectors...was our dome considered one of them? If so, I heard something about Sectors 1 and 2...could that mean there were other domes scattered around here? Suddenly I had a new game plan in place, perhaps I didn't need to head back home, after all.  

But that still left everybody at home to fend for themselves...and every other one of my kind who got recalled. What would happen if even more of them – of us – got recalled? 

What if they took back every single one of us? We were considered 'trials', was the trial over? 

The particular path I chose may have been the only realistic chance of leaving this place, but it was still steep enough to force me on my hands and knees, creating even more cuts and scrapes to add to my collection as I gritted my teeth and carried on. It was getting pretty dark by now, and for the first time I felt cold, shivering when a slight breeze hit me. If I didn't find cover soon, I was going to freeze tonight.  

At this point, I didn't even know if there was any cover at all.  

Something moved on the other side of this hole, a set of lights which could only belong to a vehicle. I panicked, clambering a bit more quickly towards the only hiding place I could find – a dozen or so small boulders that only accommodated me when I squeezed between a pair with the largest opening. It was a tight fit, but once those pair of lights swerved my way, I was hidden.  

Hopefully.  

More joined it, until roughly six or so pairs of lights – the headlights of several vehicles – rested on top of the same place that I was dumped in, several officers soon leaving them, though it was too dark for me to see them properly.  

Right when I was focusing on them, I felt a vibration below my feet, and another SUV grumbled right past me. It took me completely by surprise, and I slapped my hand up to my mouth to stop myself from making any sort of sound...just in case somebody overheard. Two more followed it, except these two ground to a halt right in front of me, blocking my view from everything.  

I was stuck. If they found me, there was nowhere for me to go.  

Two more soldiers left their truck, no suits to speak of, completely exposed to what should have been radioactive air. Instead, they wore light overalls, nothing like the heavily-armored monsters who parade the streets when they returned. One of them took out a cigar from their pockets, lighting it up and taking a long drag.  

"You gotta' be glad to leave the place every once in a while, most of those bastards never get the chance." 

"Hey! The less those civvies know about the outside, the better. They have the synthies to worry about now. They're causing havoc!" 

"Well, if you were forced out of your home in the middle of the night, you'd be pissed about it too, Steve." 

"Don't tell me you're getting all soft on us!" Steve responded, and of course his colleague assured him he wasn't. They both found themselves inside their transport again, brushing past me and leaving trails of dust in their wake.  

I already knew that we weren't taking Fibrtech's crap sitting down. At least there was that... 

They were converging at the bottom of the canyon, right were I was only twenty minutes ago, and I couldn't make out much once when I finally managed to crawl my way out of my hole, precious seconds wasted trying to wrest my leg when it became stuck. They seemed to be pretty distracted, so I kept climbing and struggling, hidden in plain sight. I only hoped that the darkness was enough to keep me from being spotted long enough for me to run as far away as I could. I decided to try and head back home. The idea of separate sectors was appealing, but people needed to be told about the lie of being stuck inside a pane of glass when there was no need. These soldiers were lying, there was no decontamination crap, there was no radiation.  

Don't worry, I'll make it back somehow...somehow... 

Once I actually made it to the top, I began putting as much distance between myself and them as possible. It was too dark to make out all the finer details, but there was enough to see that I was standing in a plain that wrapped around as far as the eye could see, a great thick forest that stretched in front of me, and mountains in the distance. I could make out the snow which topped each and every one of them, the same kind that we looked forward to every Christmas, the only time we didn't go through the regular doses of rain. 

It was getting pretty cold, so my thoughts turned once again to finding some cover, trying to pick up speed as much as my body would allow. While I was never keen on camping or staying outside in the great outdoors, I had spent enough time sleeping in that treehouse to know that the forest would shelter me from the wind itself. It wouldn't be much, but it was a start.  

Although anything could be lurking out there, including whatever it was that made those soldiers look like they came back from a fight they barely survived, and there I was, completely unarmed & exposed.

I kept moving anyway, because what else was there to do? The walls of what was my home could be seen behind me, the lights of the city breaking through the dome glass itself. It made me turn around more than once, but I had to remind myself that I couldn't go back, not for the moment. The stench of the chasm disappeared altogether, and the air was...perfect. It seemed cleaner than the artificial effort I was used to, and when I thought about it, the night sky seemed clearer than I had ever seen it before, unobstructed by glass. It was disorientating.  

Lights were peering into the sky, which meant that whatever the Helmsmen were doing, they were finished with it now, and heading back. Still, one or two of them could risk heading my way, to these different Sectors, so I started running, running so fast every muscle in my legs screamed at me to stop, but I carried on until I made it inside the forest line itself. I could hear water nearby, very close. I darted towards what was a tiny little stream, scooping my hands into it so I could drink. It was bitterly cold, but it helped get rid of the dryness in my throat I never knew I had. Everything seemed alive around me – all I could hear were the sounds of insects, the shuffling of nearby shrubs and undergrowth, enough to make me move. My next thought was climbing a tree, keeping myself away from anything that might be stalking the ground during the night. Thankfully there seemed to be many examples scattered around the forest, so I set my sights on the largest one there and wished I had a light of some description to help me. At this point even my phone would have been handy, but I was going to have to rely on the moon for the moment. I stretched my hands out in front of me, hoping to find some sort of purchase on the bark.  

Until something grabbed me from behind, a small hand covering my mouth, pulling me back.  

I screamed, muffled and kicking to break free, until I saw the face of the person who snuck up on me...that is, his silhouette. He was close enough that I could see him putting his finger against his own mouth, telling me to be quiet. I didn't see why on earth I would do something as stupid as that, until I saw what I assumed were torches in the plain just in front of us, right in front of the tree line.  

I was being followed, and when I tried to make them out, I realized that those lights were attached to assault rifles.  

I was being pulled backwards, by a man who could still very easily murder me once we were alone, but what could I have done now other than follow him? I was very close to hyperventilating, my heart pounding out of my chest. I must had been making even more of a noise than I thought, because his hand was right over mine again, except this time I didn't try and stop him.  

They were right outside our hiding place now, they must have spotted me as I was climbing out to the place, damn it! I was still being pulled backwards, towards the tree I was hoping to climb, and we passed right through it.  

That is, right through what I assumed would be bark, only it wasn't. Thick, heavy vines actually hid a hollowed-out crater, and I was forced to crouch along with my kidnapper, trying my best to calm myself down.  

"Crap, I swore I could have seen something heading this way," I could hear one man say as he headed inside the forest himself, joined by three or four of his buddies, snapping twigs underneath their feet & darting their weapons in random directions.  

"They're getting pretty close to the sector, the Mayor is gonna have our ass for this." 

"Quiet, It's here, I know it!" 

They were so close to us now, all they had to do was shine their torches against the tree itself. I'd be killed right on the spot, I knew that now, but I wondered what my assailant's story was. Did he escape the dome as well? How long had he been here?  

"Relax, that place is a solid wall of two-meter concrete and posts every hundred meters 'round it. Nothing's gonna get through there." 

"You better be right!" 

I didn't breathe. If I did, I would have hyperventilated enough for them to hear me. They just stood there, looking around, waiting for something to make a noise...until they slouched off. Slowly.  

His hand was still around my mouth, though when I put my own to my face and took it away from me, he didn't resist. He seemed to be just as tense as I was. We waited for several minutes, before they were out in the open, before I opened my mouth to speak, to ask what was going on. 

Before I could, I heard gunshots. Inside the forest. 

Our pursuers heard it as well, automatically turning back and rushing straight for us again, passing our hollowed-out hiding place and shouting, disappearing into the night itself. That's when I felt myself being pulled away again, except this time I wasn't having any of it. I gripped the hand he was trying to pull me with, struggling against it.  

"We have to leave. Now." 

The voice, it shocked me. It belonged to a girl, and when the shrouded hood was taken away I could barely make out the long hair that flowed down one side of her face. Beyond that, there was nothing else I could see, nothing except a pair of eyes. But that voice, it sounded a lot like... 

"Hayley?" 

"What? Look, there's no time, follow me." 

She pulled me out of our spot anyway, whether I wanted to follow her or not. I heard more gunshots, lots of them. My escort was running in a different direction altogether, and I had very little choice but to follow her now, simply because I didn't like having lead in my back. I tripped over what must have been a branch, slamming against the ground and tasting dirt. I was pulled back up, but she said nothing, instead making sure she didn't let go of me again. There were lights everywhere now, I didn't know how many soldiers were pouring into the forest, but they were firing, which meant that they found something to shoot at.

At the moment, it wasn't us.

All I could see were shadows of twigs and branches, tripping again and again, only kept upright by the girl who made sure we kept running.  

All of a sudden, we were falling. Well, I was falling – my kidnapper seemed to be doing a better job at keeping herself on her feet than I was, and it was only when I was back in a semi-upright position that I realized we are at a cave of some sort, and that she was knocking on stone. I was about to ask her what the hell she was doing, until the stone moved – a boulder guarding a tiny little entrance. She pushed me inside, following me soon after.  

I was getting pretty sick of falling to the ground.  

Struggling to turn around, I saw two other people heave the boulder back into place, sealing us off from the rest of the forest and the bullets that could still be heard out there. There was light here – torches that hung on the wall – so that for the first time, I could see who I was up against.  

Her face, she was Hayley, but...different. Her face was horribly etched with scars, scars that slightly altered the shape of her nose. The scar that I knew was around her eye was nowhere to be seen here, and there was no color in her hair... 

"What is your designated code?" She asked me, and I noticed being surrounded by her lackies. Their faces...they all looked familiar, I swore I had seen them inside my school at some point, even when I couldn't place the names. As with this Hayley, there were certain things that seemed...off about them. They were all much more disfigured, like they had been in a bloody war for years.  

"C...code?" 

"What? How can you not know your code? I'm giving you until the count of three!" 

"Wait! I don't have one! How did you get out of the dome?" 

"The...the dome? You mean the Sector?" 

"Hayley...what's going on?" 

Something seemed to click with her then, her eyes widened in that moment you make a grand discovery. It did little to reassure me that everything was going to be okay. 

"You're...you're from Sector 7, aren't you?" 

I would have answered her, as well, but by that time she punched me square in the face, knocking me out cold... 

"We will not take this! We will face this show of force with force of our own!" - Synthetic Union Leader Xavier Underwood, in a declaration on the streets of Oceyron as members rally against Fibrtech's numerous recalls.

I didn't know why, but when I opened my eyes again, I expected to wake up inside my bedroom.  

The same blankets around me, the same posters on my wall, the same transparent curtains which allowed light to filter inside. I expected my alarm clock to let me know that it was 8:15am, and that I had to get ready for school. Instead, all I got was the sight of a earthy ceiling, only a single torch to light up the small cavern. I was resting on top of a wooden plank, and it made my back feel like stone. It hurt even thinking about it.  

Although there was a lot that hurt at the moment.  

While I was busy adjusting to just where I was, I noticed her standing above me, her back turned to me as she discussed something with the rest of them, all silent mutters I couldn't overhear. I wanted to speak, but when I did, I felt a stab of pain in one specific part of my gum. I felt something fall on my chest when I tried to sit up.  

It was one of my teeth. Hayley literally knocked a tooth out of my mouth.  

Except it wasn't Hayley. At least, not the Hayley I remembered.  

Somebody nudged her, and she spun around to look at the cripple struggling to get out of his bed. She seemed sympathetic, clutching a clay cup in her hands.  

"Here, drink this," she ordered, although she sounded a lot like the girl I knew. I took a look at the cup and what was in it. It was hard to make out considering the light, but it didn't look clear and transparent in the way water was. I took a swig of it, it was fruit, although I couldn't tell exactly which one it was. It didn't do much, but it took the taste of blood out of my mouth.  

"Thanks." 

"I shouldn't have hit you like that. You must understand, you come from Sector 7...we had to make sure you were safe." 

"How did you make it out from Fibrtech? What did they do to you?"

She looked a little bit uneasy when I asked this, I could see she was trying her best not to move back slowly out of fear. I guess, in the back of my mind, I still knew that she wasn't the girl I grew up with back home, but I didn't understand what synthetic clones were doing on the other side of the wall to begin with. 

"I'm not the person you think I am. I'm sorry."

"So...Sector 7, there's more than one city around here?" I back-tracked, trying to change the subject. "Have you seen any other places like mine?"

"We...we don't know for sure. It's just an assumption considering what we've heard. We haven't encountered any other major population like yours. You say you don't have a code, do you have a name?" 

I wanted to say Ian, but that was my original's name. Did I want to be known as the same out here? I was left with very little time to decide.  

"I don't know," I finally admitted. She didn't seem to care, nodding. 

"Okay. Well for future reference, you'll be designated Zero-Five-Zero, alright?" 

I didn't see this as a topic worth arguing over, so I simply shrugged and accepted it. It was more original than simply being assigned a boy's name and personality, that's for sure. 

"So where are we?" I quizzed, only now coming to terms with what was happening and why I was led here. I remembered the gunshots and the lights as they pursued us. Except, they weren't pursuing us at all. They were after something else.  

"Well, we're not going to lie to you – we're in a hole, and we'll need to leave before we get a little too comfortable here.  

That wasn't very helpful, but my aches and pains were taking up much of my mind right now. I wasn't in the mood for interrogation – I was in the mood to just wake up in my room and realize all of this just wasn't happening.  

She sat alongside me. although she was watched at all times by everybody else. She seemed to stare at me for a very long time, looking at something in particular – my eyes one moment, my arms the next.  

"You look almost perfect." 

Her personality was much different from the Hayley I knew now, a much more quiet and reserved person, though still evidently tough-as-nails in the way she single-handedly carried me here. The light of the fire really brought out the scars on her face. They looked horrifying.  

"Can you tell us everything? About the inside?" She asked me, waiting while I continued sipping from the cup, only realizing now that I was starting to get a little bit hungry. I told her as much as I could about my home – about the house I was raised in, my friends, the amount of people who lived there. I also told them about us – the synthetics. I told her about the stares, the remarks, the insults, everything. She kept listening, and I suddenly realized that I had no idea whether it was day or night. I told her about what had happened – the mass recall, the military presence in the city, how I escaped, all leading up to the present moment.  

"That's...quite a tale." 

"I need to head back. They know nothing about the outside world. We were told that it was a radioactive wasteland...we were lied to. They need to know." 

"Well then, Five-Zero, I'm afraid this is where we differ. Me? I need to head back from where we came." 

"Wait, where did you come from?" 

She looked away then, almost...angry.  

"Before I tell you, I'm going to have to show you something, or somebody." 

"Of course." 

She nodded then, beckoning one of her followers to come forward. Nobody did at first, until an entirely new person moved in from behind them.  

That was when I noticed why she called him. He was me.  

Another version of me.  

Like her, he look damaged, bruised, broken. The bridge of his nose was bent in an entirely different direction, his right eye was entirely glassed over. I didn't notice at first on account of his heavy rags, but I noticed that only one arm emerged from it.  

I was horrified, he seemed to understand.  

"This is One-One-Eight. This is somebody who actually went through problems," she explained so casually, but I could feel the insult laced in her voice. Like me, the boy staring back at me was a copy of Ian Kenzie, except he went through a whole lot worse than I had. He didn't speak, not a single word to me.  

"What happened to you?" 

"A lot happened," it was Hayley who spoke for him, "but if you're judging based entirely on how he looks, don't – he was created like that. All those scars, the disfigurements, a result of a botched replication process...an Unusable." 

I was both mad and curious. Mad, because she was shoving my very-real issues to one side, treating them as trivial. She knew I made an assumption based on his looks, and passively attacked me for it, but I was curious in just what she meant. There was too much that I didn't know – that any of us in the city didn't know." 

"I'm sorry," I eventually whispered, not sure of who I was saying it to, or if I was saying it to anybody in particular, but One-One-Eight nodded, making an attempt of a weak smile back at me. It was like looking at a distorted mirror, I could see flashes of myself in him. 

After all, we were one and the same, weren't we? Different copies of the same boy.  

"Don't be, you don't understand." 

"What's your code?" I enquired, realizing that I couldn't keep calling her Hayley if she had never encountered the name before. Obviously, she was another clone, an entirely different person altogether.

"It's One-One-One. Look, you have to forgive me, but we can't deviate from our plan right now, and we're going to have to move away from here shortly – too many of the bastards crawling above our heads." 

I was brought back to the gunshots, and it dawned on me.  

"They were firing on some of you." 

"They shouldn't have been out in the open. It's...unfortunate. There wasn't a lot of us who managed to escape." 

"Escape from what?" 

"That answer - whether I'll tell you or not - depends on what you want to do next. Are you going to try and head back to your home?" 

"What else can I do?" I responded, noticing that One-Eight hadn't stopped staring at me for quite some time now.  

"Well, we can strike a deal, you and I, because the fact that you're here changes things somewhat. You make an interesting point: the public needs to know what's happening right under their noses. If we manage to get their support, an entire Sector no less, then we'll be in a much stronger position! You help us, and we'll help you liberate your home, spread as much awareness about our terror as possible."

Now she sounded like the Hayley I was used to back home. 

"So what can I do to help?" 

She smiled at that, and another boy rushed to my side, handing me something. It was only when I felt the silhouette that I realized just what it was.  

A gun.  

"First things first. We're going to need to leave this bunker." 

* 

I was going to die.  

My hands were shaking, my heart was caught somewhere along my throat, and there was still a gun resting in my palms. I couldn't even tell just how many bullets were in this thing, although I wasn't offered any more clips. One-One assured me that it may not even be necessary, that the troops outside may have left by now, but I wasn't so keen on listening to her assumption. I knew more about the Helmsmen than they thought.

They heaved the boulder out of the way, with daylight braking through. It was so intense at first that I couldn't even look out there without closing my eyes, and even then the light burned through my eyelids. When I finally could see, almost everybody else was outside, leaving just me and One-Eight. He gave me a subtle nod, and I realized that in this hostile place, I was the one who was looking after him. I moved out slowly, and he followed my every move, always right behind me.  

Now that I actually see the outside clearly for the first time, I was stunned by the amount of life that buzzed around the forest. There were insects everywhere, howls in the distance, there hadn't seemed to be any real human influence here, this forest seemed entirely untouched, that the animals ruled here. More than that, the actual trees seemed a lot more colorful, the leaves a lot greener, the vines that snaked around the bark larger & just more real than anything I had seen back home. It made our park look like it was slowly dying, nothing but weeds compared to this place. 

But then I remembered the bullets, and I stopped thinking about things that could distract me from the one round that could kill me if I didn't smarten up fast.  

One-One led our group, carrying her own pistol, always jerking the weapon in a different direction if she heard so much as a whisper. She was flanked by two of the taller boys, both of them shrouded in rags which were doing a much better job of keeping them warm than my stale clothes ever could. I was beginning to recognize them – or at least, their counterparts inside the dome – but they were nobody I knew on a first-name basis. One-Eight was still right behind me, much more confident than I was, but he seemed to have a bit of trouble negotiating the branches and rock from under his feet on account of his vision.  

"Can you tell me where we're going?" I requested, but it was only silence, though he clearly looked away for a moment, just as angry as Hayley...or One-One, was.  

She stopped then, crouching down to look at something. It was only when I caught up with her that I realized that she was looking at a body. Only when I took a look around me, in this tiny patch of space unoccupied by trees, that I realized that there were several bodies.  

I wanted to vomit, I could feel it in my stomach as the fact registered. I nearly doubled over, watching as our leader paused to close what must have been her fallen comrade's eyes, relieving him of his ammo and weapon. She handed them to the boys alongside her, who then quickly branched out to inspect the rest of the casualties.  

"They never made it," I heard her whisper as I approached, only turning around when she heard me coming. Without missing a beat she handed me two more clips of ammo for my weapon, a weapon I had never fired before.  

"See this?" She gestured, taking in the scene just as well as I had, "What we went through is much worse, which is why we're going back there." 

"I don't understand," I was forced to admit.  

"You'll understand soon enough." 

My counterpart got his own weapon, although it was obvious that he was having trouble with it when he only had one hand to operate with. The rest of them fleeced the officers who were killed in the exchange, getting some pretty decent rifles out of it. It seemed clear that they - we – were going to need all the firepower we could get. That thought alone made me anxious.  

"This Hayley," she spoke, standing up and carrying on as I kept up alongside her, "what is she like? Do we act the same? Does she look as perfect as you do?" 

"You're both...decisive, leaders. What's happening in there, in my home..." 

Yes, I was thinking about it again, but I didn't know what was happening inside there. What was happening to her.  

"She was sick, ill, weak. She was taken back to Fibrtech for them to figure out what was wrong. I told you already, they're forcing those of us who are sick back into the factory we were made from." 

One-One froze, right at the last bit of my sentence.  

"Do you know what happens to them? If they're too...sick to make it back outside?" 

"I don't know. None of us know. They get replaced, see? You're not the only one who has problems, even if yours are worse." 

Why, oh why, did I just return her insult from earlier, when she was clearly more savvy with a gun in her hand than I was? I actually thought of backing off, but One-Eight was right behind me, seemingly oblivious to everything that was happening.  

"You might want to follow us more than you think you do," she spoke, but the certainty in her voice had faded, "and if what you're saying is true, then we'll have to face another possibility, another theory..." 

I couldn't ask her what she was talking about, because more gunshots were echoing through the trees, very far off. My entire body became paralyzed, my gun drawn towards the source. I wouldn't have made a very good shot anyway, my hand was shaking so violently the thing could have actually fallen out of it.  

"They're still out there," I whispered. 

"They're not going to disappear, Five-Zero. C'mon, that helped us more than I thought it would – that's where we need to go.  

*

If I squinted hard enough, if I actually brushed aside the trees and the leaves and everything else, I swore I could just about make out the tip of the dome. Of Sector 7. It was funny, I was thinking about the place so damn much now that I wondered where I would rather be right now, in there, or out here?

Out here, I could be killed in a heartbeat.  

We were moving, towards the noise. I wasn't a very good survivalist, but even I knew that running away from the source of danger – not towards it – seemed like the better course of action. One-One didn't seem to share my method of thinking. It must have been an hour, maybe two of them at most, but by the time the sun came tumbling down the sky we encountered another body. Another officer, but this time I recognized him.  

It was Marty. 

His face was completely blank, his mouth coated in blood. I wanted to kick him in the teeth, but instead crouched on one knee, moving closer to inspect him. Considering how much of a wuss I was right up until that point, One-One seemed to be taken by surprise.  

"I think you should take his coat, something to keep you warm out here, it's going to get cold, and we don't have anywhere to stay for the night this time." 

I recoiled slightly at that, thinking about the blood stains that were peppered around his jacket, but she had a point. My own clothes were starting to smell, torn & tattered from falling into that rotting hole, the mud, and god knows what else. She reached into his pocket, taking out his sidearm and ammo, unzipping it in record time. She seemed to have no problem messing with a corpse, almost shoving him face-first into the ground while she forced his hands out of the coat.  

"Here." 

I accepted it unwillingly. It smelt of smoke, but by the time I had it wrapped around me, I was already grateful for it.   

One-Eight – the closest thing to an identical twin brother that I was going to get - seemed to fiddle with his gun in his hand, smiling. There was something about him that wasn't quite right, his personality seemed completely alien to mine. We were meant to be biologically the same, right? Slightly wary, I placed my new hood over my head, thankful that it got rid of some of the wind noise.  

We kept moving. The soldier laying semi-naked on the ground was now just a memory to me.  

It got darker and darker, and that was the way it was going to stay. The wind picked up as well...and then it began to rain. It wasn't the perfectly-timed drizzle that we got at home twice a day, this rain was more hostile, much colder, hitting me in the face so hard my cheeks went numb. It didn't stop there, either – it was obvious that we were right in the edge of a storm, but until right at that moment I had only read about storms in books, looking outside and wondering what it was like.  

I was learning the hard way. 

One-Eight whimpered, the first time I had heard his voice since they found me, and One-One rushed towards him, grabbing his arm and taking him along with her. I helped her, relying on the rest of the group to protect us if anything came out of the forest to attack, walking in a general direction, until walking proved impossible. The weather was getting the better of us, and even with the benefit of my new-found protection I was getting soaked from head to toe. We all were.  

"We need to stop!" One of them roared over the rain, " Find shelter, keep moving in the morning!" 

"Any bright ideas?" One-One screamed back, but got no response. Instead, they started moving towards a particularly-dense part of the forest, where the leaves didn't seem to be thrown around by the wind as much, better than standing out where we were.  

It wasn't until we made it there that we realized that the leaves weren't part of trees at all – they were yet more vines, covering rock. There, covered by the wind and the rain, was an enormous opening, a cave just waiting for us.  

Lucky. 

She pulled One-Eight along with her, the first to move inside, and we followed in tow. There wasn't much in the way of space – the 'cave' actually turned out to be a hollowed-out space in a boulder – but we were going to take all the luck we were going to get. The only problem was that this space was seriously exposed, save for a few solitary vines.  

If we were spotted here, we would be killed.  

I wasn't looking at what everybody else was doing, instead I was helping One-Eight over towards the very back of what little space we were given, sitting him down as he continued whimpering.  

"Hey, we're going to pull through this, alright?" 

No response. I should have expected that.  

So the storm kept getting worse, the wind changing direction again and again. This was all very new to me, the concept that my Dad and workers like him weren't in control of the humidity and environment out here.  At one point it blew right at us, brushing easily through the vines like we were out in the open all over again. I spent the entire time looking out for One-Eight, while everybody else seemed pre-occupied with something else. After what seemed like an eternity, it gradually began to calm down...until the rain stopped entirely. By then, it was turning pretty dark, and this time we had no light.  

Until one of them pulled out sticks from his make-shift pelt, rubbing two of them together and sparking flame between them, creating torches.  

"Use up the rest of them, we're going to need to make a fire," One-One ordered, and they moved right off the bat. That same boy turned his bag upside-down as everything inside it fell, before being re-arranged in a circle. The same sort of trick again, and before I knew it there was a fire. A real fire, something that made black smoke that hurt your chest if you breathed it in, but something that was so welcoming and warm I couldn't help but draw closer. All of us did, huddled in the center of our little cave.  

"What happens if somebody sees this?" 

"This hollowed-out rock? Unless they're coming from our direction - and I doubt that once you remember the bodies we've seen – than this cave should hide it. From most angles, anyway..." 

So it was a risk, after all, but who was going to come out looking for us in the middle of this weather, especially when it seemed to re-ignite outside again? I haven't seen rain fall so much at any one time, it was beautiful, unpredictable. We had no control over it. That stunned me.  

Something was pushed into my hands. It was another pelt, small enough to rest in both of my palms. I took a peek inside & found several berries.  

"Eat up. Share with your brother." 

He had no problem taking his share, so I let him at it first, taking what was left afterwards. My stomach only seemed to grumble more every time I took a bite, the savory taste distracting me from everything for a few moments. He actually took off his rags, using it so that he could sit down without getting wet from the damp ground, and that was when I realized he had two arms, after all.  

Except his second hand was limp, not moving at all. It wasn't until I got a closer look to realize that it was completely black, like it had been burned to a crisp.  

"What happened to you?" I whispered, but he didn't seem to listen to me, instead pre-occupied with his food.  

"He's fine." 

Hayley – One-One, the names were still jumbled up in my head – sat down right next to me, her own berries in her hand. The fire was flashing in erratic directions thanks to the wind, so again I was drawn to her scars, completely different to the girl I knew. 

"I mean, he's not fine, clearly. How many of us are, really? But he's intelligent, even if it's not completely obvious at first. It doesn't matter that he's an Unusable, if you give him a chance you'll see..." 

She seemed to trail off somehow, like something had gotten the better of her. She was making excuses for him, validating his existence when I didn't mind if anything was wrong with him. It was like she was pleading with somebody other than myself.  

"You said Unusable before, as well. What does that mean?" 

She didn't answer at first, and I thought she simply hadn't heard me. I was about to ask her again when she spoke.  

"We're put into two groups in there: Useable & Unusable. You eventually become the latter if you've nothing left to give, or you could have just been born with enough defects to end up discarded immediately. I've seen too much in there, so many people who were crying themselves to sleep, so many copies of me, so many copies of everybody else. They all looked different – different scars, different abnormalities. It was horrible, and that was before the experiments..." 

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything," I replied, taking another look at One-Eight and the fact that he seemed disinterested in all of this.  

"No, you...you need to know the truth. You've been kept from it for too long. I'll try and be blunt here; the bastards take your organs. They take your kidneys first, because you can live on one of them. Then they take your liver. Then your lung. Then, when you're left with only the bare minimum needed to keep you breathing in there, they take your limbs, maybe an arm and a leg, maybe something else. They sometimes take your eyes as well. Why? I don't know, but it just seems to be sadistic fun on their part. We...were relatively new. We were made about two, three months ago. One-Eight here was made roughly two weeks before we escaped..." 

I stopped listening to what she had to say, because I threw up everything I had eaten. I couldn't tell if it was because of the food I just ate, or because of what I had just heard, but my stomach was churning and I couldn't stop. My eyes stung from the tears. 

What if that was happening inside the dome right now? What if my Hayley and my Aaron and the rest of my kind were caught up in the middle of that?  

"Oh no..." I breathed, once I was finally able to speak at all, but her arm was already around me, some way of making me feel better, I guess. I had to be honest, it wasn't helping.  

"That's where we're heading, Five-Zero. We need to get everybody else out, and kill anybody sick enough to take part in whatever twisted game they're playing. " 

"Wait, we're headed back in there? After everything you've just said? That's...that's suicide!" 

"It might be, but we don't have a choice. We shouldn’t be privileged to have freedom while knowing that everyone else we knew were being tortured like that. No, we're going to get all of them out of there, and we're going to find the source of all of this madness, and we're going to make it stop!" 

One-Eight continued eating his berries, smiling.  

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She barked at her two bodyguards, ordering them to take the first watch while we slept for a few hours. They listened to her every word, though, standing and moving to the entrance of our hiding place, armed. She layed on her back, which couldn't have been comfortable in any sense of the word, but we weren't exactly surrounded in luxury. Instead, I slouched myself up against the stone, right next to my 'twin'. Even as it grew later, the rain still poured down, and I was still wide awake. Every single sound seemed foreign to me, when I was used to traffic and sidewalks full of people and artificial air.  

"My name is Ian," I muttered, for no particular reason. "When I told you I didn't know before, that was a lie. My name is Ian Kenzie, except...it's not. It belonged to my original, the kid I was created from. Your original's name was Hayley, in case you were wondering where I got the name from..." 

She didn't really respond to that, still on the ground, still caught near our campfire, still looking up at the sky.  

"You were the first, then. The first copies. No wonder you look so perfect." 

"Trust me, we're not perfect. Not in there." 

After what I heard, it actually made me feel a bit guilty, talking about what I was going through when I just heard the nightmare they had to endure. By now One-Eight had fallen asleep, lying on one side and covering his useless arm.  

"I'm going to warn you," she eventually whispered back, much more sullen than before, "there will be a lot of clones we'll need to rescue. There will be a lot of copies of yourself, a lot of copies of me. I'm sure that would seem horrifying at first, but just concentrate on the task at hand. Then...if we make it out alive...we'll make our way towards your home. I promise." 

"That's...very kind of you. Thank you, but you don't need to do that. I'll be fine, rescuing those people should be more important." 

"Yeah..." was all she said before she closed her eyes, and I realized that she must have been completely drained from coordinating our movement today. It was easy to forget that she was just one person, and she wanted to storm the place she was tortured in, hoping to free everybody else.  

She was a lot braver than I was.  

I wasn't going to get some sleep any time soon, so I crawled around the campfire, towards the remaining members of our group. I tried getting a good look at what they were searching for, but all I could see was darkness and rain. Before long I was getting soaked again, but they didn't seem to care. The same familiar scars were present across their face, but aside from that, they seemed like their counterparts back home.  

They must have been Useable, then, if One-One's story was anything to go by.  

"You should try and get as much sleep as you can," one of them commented, the storm almost drowning his words out, "we'll need as much strength as we can for the days ahead, and trust me, it will take days for us to reach that place." 

"I heard about what happened there, I really am sorry." 

"Don't be. You led a privileged life. You didn't know..." 

At the end of the day, despite everything I went through at home...I had led a privileged life, now hadn't I? I only stayed alongside them enough to ask for their codes – Zero-Zero-One & One-Zero-Zero, respectively, before I decided to take their advice and move back towards my sleeping place. I nestled back between One-One and One-Eight, watching the fire swerve in different directions as I tried my best to get drowsy. It didn't work, but I kept my eyes closed anyway, listening to everything around me.  

Marty's face became stuck in my consciousness...but then I noticed something odd. He was on his own, the only casualty in that particular plain, which meant someone had to have killed them...which meant that they must still be out there, somewhere.  

In the storm.  

Perhaps not all of One-One's allies were killed in the firefight last night! 

I was going to ask about looking for them before we kept moving, but by that time I had finally found myself drifting away... 

"Remain inside your homes at all times. Supplies will be delivered to you only in emergency circumstances. All synthetics are to be present and accounted for." - Extract of an official statement by Oceyron Police Department after numerous rallies were put down. Synthetic Fibrtech CEO Antonio Armado is removed from his position, his circumstances remain unknown.

I woke up to the sound of our fire being put out, water poured on top of it and creating a hiss that seemed out of place in my dreams.  

In that dream, I was running, much like I was running now. It was different, though; I was running through a city, the same skyscrapers and high-rise apartment blocks I had come to know inside my home, except the streets were warped beyond anything I had ever seen before. I couldn't make out what I was running from, but I knew it was dangerous and it was close. It was bearing down on me by the time I managed to wake up, thankful that I didn't get to the very end.  

Then I realized just where I was now, and I couldn't tell whether I preferred my dream or my reality.  

Everybody else was up, One-One was responsible for quenching our fire, while One-Eight was busy tinkering with a stick, distracted. One-Zero and Zero-One were working as a pair, always watching each other, always within touching distance. I didn't know what they were putting inside their pelts this time, but it looked like food. They must have been up far longer than I have, scouring the place and picking up whatever they could find. I suddenly felt self-conscious about my contribution.  

Or lack thereof.  

It was still raining, but nothing more than a drizzle now, but the forest was covered in fog, blanketing everything. I couldn't see more than a few meters.  

Was that good for us,  or bad? 

She didn't seem to care about the fog, packing and leaving, her two bodyguards in tow. That left me and One-Eight to try and catch up to them before they became invisible. She had a point about the campfire – it was virtually unnoticeable when I turned around to take a look at it, even before the fog took it over.  

So we walked, and I hadn't a single idea as to what was waiting for us.  

The coat was really starting to get on my nerves now – the smell of husky smoke simply made me gag, and I was always aware of the man's blood splattered across it – but in the midst of the morning cold I just decided to grin and bare it for the moment. If everybody else here could survive out in this place, so could I. One-Eight was humming to himself, but was managing to handle all the trips and branches that got the better of him yesterday.  

"Hey, you doing alright?" 

It still caught me off-guard when I was staring at my own face looking up to my question, but he nodded and smiled, carrying on. It wasn't much, but it was a start. One-One looked back at us, making sure we were doing alright, before she smiled weakly and kept walking. That's all we did for quite some time, walking. I noticed those same mountains on the horizon whenever the forest gave way just enough for us to get a glimpse, but they were quickly concealed again. Maybe it was the fact that the fog was skewing our view, but I swore I could make out...smoke from one of their peaks? It was probably a trick of the light, because in a split second the forest was bearing down on us again and I lost all sight of it.

Still.

We were heading slightly to the right, heading towards even thicker branches and vegetation. It made sense once I thought about it – trying to stay hidden – but the downside was scraping through thorns, catching yourself on a lone branch which could tear a hole in your clothes, and one particularly painful moment where I wasn't paying attention, catching a twig to the eye. It was only a slight brush, but it still hurt like absolute hell.  

One-Eight, to my surprise, was the one who helped me back up to my feet. He slapped me on the shoulder, the same nod and open smile, and continued after the rest of our group.  

The fog faded throughout the course of the morning, it must have been early afternoon before the forest became more green than white, but I was beginning to notice a change: the trees were quickly becoming evergreen, several pines I remembered decorating our home during Christmas, except these monsters were easily larger than my house and soaring into the sky, blocking off the sun above them. The insects around us seemed to change, as well – there were no more little sounds, instead the creatures seemed to hiss and shriek, not insects at all. I read a bit about wild animals, but having never encountered one, I wasn't sure what to expect.  

One-One seemed to know more than I did, raising her weapon...which meant that whatever it was, it wasn't friendly.  

I wasn't sure I was even going to last long enough to make it to where they were kept hostage.  

So far, there hadn't seemed to have been any more of the Helmsmen, or anybody else for that matter. I thought about the possibility of more of her group scattered around here, but I wasn't sure whether to bring it up. It wasn't until we decided to take a break when I finally mustered up enough courage to speak. 

"You think...you think anybody else would be out here? Anybody who escaped with you, I mean..." 

"We're heading back to a rendezvous point," One-Zero explained, sitting down on the closest thing that resembled a chair in this place – bark from a fallen tree, though it looked like it would snap under his weight – if anybody survived that, that's where they'd be." 

"We didn't expect them to catch up to us so quickly," One-One added, "though that was probably our mistake. Dividing into two groups was clearly a mistake as well...they should have stayed with us...I shouldn't have ordered them to leave." 

"You didn't know what was going to happen." I reminded her, because cracks were starting to form around her usual confidence.  

"But it should have been something I would have anticipated. They're dead now, so talking about it is pretty useless. We should get going." 

She moved off, surprising even One-Zero and Zero-One, she was clearly reeling from what she saved me from. I couldn't blame her, if my own friends were the ones who were shot at... 

We had little choice but to follow her, trekking down-slope until the forest suddenly gave us a vertical drop, something that looked so unnatural to me. Trees were still sprouting in every direction, but they took on an almost forty-five degree angle, bent into shape by gravity. It was surreal, something I had never seen before. For the moment, we seemed to be avoiding it, instead bearing further right towards more level terrain. I was at the back of the queue, making sure my 'twin' kept his balance on the narrow path. My heart was pounding, and this coat was now becoming a bit too hot for comfort. I paused to take it off, using the arms to tie a knot around my waist. That cold air around my chest was a pleasure.  

"Look sharp," One-One, Hayley, whispered, drawing her sidearm, "we're getting pretty close. They're going to react to our movement." 

I was hoping many of them survived, encountering the soldiers yet somehow managing to fight them off, or run without getting fed bullets to their back. Their arranged fallback point was a tiny little space where nothing at all seemed to grow, surrounded from all sides by those same evergreen trees. There was no way they could have grown naturally in that precise shape, and the way that hill sloped behind us...  

"Nobody here," she growled, "just great." 

It was true, we were greeted with nothing. She kicked the dirt underneath her feet, annoyed. I didn't know what I was expecting, but -  

Something moved, something from the corner of my eye, but it was too late to tell anybody else, because Zero-Zero-One suddenly dropped to the floor, painted in red.  

It was a trap.  

My body seemed to lock up, I couldn't move no matter how desperately I wanted to, until I saw One-One fire right back in the direction those bullets came from, snatching somebody behind the bushes. I grabbed One-Eight – whimpering and staring down at the ground until I got a hold of him - and searched desperately for a place to hide. There was no way I was going to outlast any of them in a firefight, but I took out my handgun anyway, shaking in my hands.  

Then they came out, and this time, the soldiers were in their suits, the same battle armor I had seen them parade many times around our streets every time they returned from an expedition. This time, they were pointing their rifles at me.  

This time, they fired.  

I thought they hit me. I closed my eyes and expected to feel nothing but lead, realizing my time was up...except it wasn't. I felt nothing. Instead, I took a look at One-Zero sweeping in from the side, popping shots at the soldier's leg, sending him to his knees. The rest of them – the only two I could see, though I assumed there were more waiting in the background, turned to face him instead, but that was when One-One took advantage and swooped in from the opposite direction. She shot at the furthest soldier away from her, though the rounds did virtually nothing at all.  

You have to help them! Do something! 

One-Eight wasn't doing a thing, so it was entirely up to me as I held my gun and tried to aim as best I could. The damn thing was shaking in my hands, my throat was dry and swallowing hurt, and I was completely sure I was about to suffer an almighty heart attack and crumble to the dirt anyway, but I continued aiming. By now the soldiers were splitting up to try and take both of their attackers off, completely ignoring me.  

I fired a shot, it sailed uselessly in the air.  

My hands stung from the recoil, and all it did was attract the attention of all three of them, now rushing towards me.  

One-One wasn't having any of it, dashing right up against one of the them, unsheathing a knife from her pants. The thing must have been sewn into the fabric itself, but there it was. She leaped onto his back, hanging on while he tried to shake her off, and buried it deep into his neck – one of the few unprotected points the armor couldn't withstand. One-Zero was moving quicker than any person I had ever seen before, firing shot after shot to try and distract the other two from taking revenge on her. None of them seemed to matter, pinging off their chest plates before One-One was back in action, trying to do the same thing again.  

Except this time, her enemy was ready for her, catching her in mid-air and flipping her to the ground. She landed awkwardly on her back, crying out, but a gun was already planted right up against her forehead, a single bullet away from never moving again.  

I fired another shot, managing the recoil this time, but it still missed the person it was aiming for, embedding itself in the bark of one of the trees. It wasn't much of a distraction, but it gave One-Zero enough of an opportunity to plant what was left of his ammo right inside his enemy, at point-blank range. One-One rolled to her feet, with only one more soldier left to dispatch.  

But it was too late. 

By the time both of them aimed at him, he had already fired his rifle three times...and One-Zero crumpled to his knees, his weapon dropped alongside him.  

I saw his face, the light that just faded from his eyes, and all I could see was my vision turning red, the urge to get revenge hitting me like a flood. I didn't care if I was shot anymore, so I screamed as loudly as I could and lunged for him, for every single time we were pushed down inside our home for being a Synthie, for all the damn lies they told us about the outside, for everything they've done! 

He still managed to see me coming, simply slamming me across the face with his armored hand. I fell, my head hitting something pretty hard. I saw stars, and it was getting pretty hard to stay awake, but I could hear...something in the background. Was it One-One? Did I manage to at least give her an opening? Was I going to die?  

Rather bizarrely, it was One-Eight who then came into my field of vision, helping me up to my feet. It was like the guy had never been scared in the first place, continuing to stare at me and smile like I was his best damn friend in the whole wide world. One-One was leaning over her fallen friends, fighting back tears. She relieved them of their weapons, and started turning her attention towards their murderers, specifically their armor. 

"I'm so sorry." I began, but she raised her hand towards me, not even looking up.  

"One-One..." 

Still nothing.  

"Hayley." 

She darted at the name, absolute fury in her eyes.  

"Don't you dare call me that again." 

She returned her focus towards the armor, trying to take a piece off, grunting when she couldn't.  

"Hey," I risked another bout of conversation, kneeling down alongside her, "they taught us a bit about these suits in school. You have to look for some sort of detachable panel..." 

"Why would they teach you about military tech?" 

"Well, not these suits, but those they use when handling radioactive waste. I'm hoping that underneath all these extra plates, there's..." 

I found it, right at the back where I knew it would be. The material underneath that suit was locked in place for the time being, but once one piece was taken out, the rest could be dismantled. I pressed that piece inwards, and it popped right out, enough for me to take out.  

"There, the rest should just slide right off." 

"Thank you," she responded, but that was it for conversation.  

I wanted to keep moving. If those three were waiting for us all along, I was sure there were many more nearby, or at least their superiors would grow suspicious as to why they weren't responding to them. I knew enough about the Helmsmen to know that they would send others to investigate, but we just watched her take the pieces apart and exposing the man underneath it all. All of that time she was fighting to keep her composure, but I couldn't miss her watery eyes. She just watched her friends being taken out in front of her, and she was trying to stay strong, but it was going to take its toll on her one way or another. I kept my mouth shut for the time being, making sure One-Eight was okay. He always was, never taking his eyes off me, nor that smile.  

"They must have known we were coming. It just seems like too much of a coincidence to have them here right at the moment we arrived. One of them must have taken us prisoner, making him spill the information..." 

Right after she said that, she buried her head in her hands, finally crying. Armor pieces were scattered all around her, like a three-dimensional puzzle piece. That bastard's face was now clear as day, we could see precisely the man who killed her friends. He thoroughly deserved to be lying there, lifeless.  

She did not.  

Rather than risking her anger again, I just sat close to her, taking on of the arm pieces in my hand, inspecting it. It was heavy, very heavy, and when I tested it on my own shoulder it protested under the weight. Ignoring it, I took another piece for the same arm, wrapping the piece around it. One-One eventually peered up as she saw me play with the pieces, building it around me. Before too long my arm was fully encased in it, but it was only when the 'glove' piece was in place when the whole thing suddenly felt a whole lot lighter. If I closed my eyes, I wouldn't have known I was wearing it.  

"This...feels incredible!" I whispered, genuinely taken by surprise. "You have to try this!" 

So she did, putting each piece of the other arm around her own, going through the same motions as she frowned because of their individual weight, but the astonishment across her face once all of them were pieced together as a whole.  

"Power-assisted," she judged. "It's wonderful! Five-Zero, get One-Eight and yourself suited up. We're going to need all the protection we're going to get!" 

So I was in charge or removing the single piece which allowed the other suits to fall apart, and I handed her the pieces for another arm while I suited myself up, giving One-Eight a hand with his own.  

"Once you have this on, maybe I'll worry a bit less about keeping yourself safe," I joked, now completely used to the lack of response afterwards. I gave him a thumbs-up after that, and he responded immediately with something resembling his own. He stood there while armor was wrapped around his good hand, and when it came to the other... 

"You mind...if I can touch that?" 

He didn't seem to mind, but I gestured at his hidden arm anyway, making sure he absolutely got the jist of what I was trying to say. This time, he took a step back and shook his head, and it all just seemed to click for me. He didn't seem to react to sounds, but could interpret gestures just fine.  

It was like she said, he was intelligent, it just wasn't obvious at first glance. 

I heard something, something like voices, but I couldn't distinguish where it came from. One-One heard it too, because the weapon was drawn again. We put our backs up against each other, looking around for the source.  

It happened again, but it didn't seem to come from anywhere in the distance...but below us. It wasn't until I actually looked down that I realized that it came from one of the soldier's helmets, the voices small and accompanied by static.  

One-One made a signal, telling me to pick it up. I didn't want to, obviously, but I felt I didn't have much choice. Slowly, I picked the thing from the ground, taking a curious peek inside it. Aside from a slightly-green visor, it didn't seem that particularly special. I could hear the voices coming from inside it, a bit louder this time but still nothing I could make sense of. Taking a deep breath, I placed it right over my head, both amazed and startled by what I'd seen.  

Through the visor, everything was coated in a green outline, every single leaf, branch, twig, making everything much easier to navigate. I could see several colored blobs all around me, and they moved. It wasn't long before I realized they were heat signatures of some of the insects and animals all around us, which must have made looking for us all the easier.  

But the one thing that terrified me was the top-left of the screen, a single sub-screen that you had to look up to see, and on the other side of that screen stood a man. Clearly military, clearly a normal, breathing human being in that he looked completely like a normal, breathing human being. He wore some sort of brass on his uniform, and he was smoking a cigarette which made smoke whenever he breathed out.  

Except the cigarette fell out of his mouth, which meant he could clearly see my terrified face on the other side.  

"You bastards..." 

His feed suddenly died, and I took the helmet off of my head, watching One-One and One-Eight as they looked at me in expectation.   

"They know we're here! We need to go!" 

"Never forget that there is a purpose to your research, and that there are sacrifices that must be made. You moved away from your friends and family, away from everything you know, in order to carry out this research. You have been granted eyes that the rest of them cannot afford to have...but we must keep yet more from you. Just trust that it is for the benefit of every one of us, and reach your goal so that we can reach ours." - Unknown
 

We didn't have the time to gather the rest of the pieces of their suit, so we made due with what we had. One-One and One-Eight already had both sets of components for their arms as well as front chest pieces, but I had the visor. With everything outlined for me, it made navigating a whole lot easier.  

I wasn't the one who knew where we needed to go, though. Instead, she dashed into the thickest vegetation there was, and I had no choice but to follow her. The blobs of heat all around me were beginning to bother me, because I couldn't tell at first glance if they were just ordinary animals up close...or something dangerous further away. I was still getting to grips with what that visor was telling me. 

That man on the other end of the feed was still imprinted onto my eyelids. He terrified me.  

We were scaling down the slope now, holding onto the branches for dear life. One-Eight was having trouble doing that, so I held onto his hand as my free arm made sure not to let go of whatever support I could get a hold on. This place was almost as steep as the crevice I was dumped in, but there was no easy path to take this time round.  

"Spot anything?" One-One cried out in front of me, wasting no time in moving to the next tree, hugging it until she could get her balance back and find another one further down that hill. I couldn't make anything out that could be seen as dangerous for the time being, so I shook my head. One-Eight continued to whimper, but instead of saying something to console him I simply gave him another thumbs-up. He responded with a weak smile.  

As we got further downhill, I started making a single heat signature in front of me...but it was huge, and when I tried to figure out where it was coming from, I eventually realized that it must have been coming from underground. It was faint, but spread over a large area, and it only got bigger the closer we got to it.  

"One-One, I think I found something..." 

"Good. We're almost at the complex, then. " 

Yes, we were still carrying out this suicide mission. Rather than think about it, I thought about my friends back home for just a few seconds, enough to take away whatever fears I had at the moment. It didn't matter what happened, as long as they were okay.  

And if I had to live long enough to make it back and see them again, so be it.  

The screen above my eyes flashed again, and that same soldier took a good long look at me, rage in his eyes. It was enough to make me stop in my tracks, forcing both of my companions to do the same. One-Eight heard me gasp, and he was tugging at me to see if I was okay. 

"Run his model number, facial recognition protocol." 

I didn't understand what he was saying, but he turned his attention away from me, instead looking down towards...something.  

"Model no. YJ-08769...1. First edition...We never held you here, son." 

That's when he peered closer again, so that I could only see his eyes, magnified and bloodshot and damn well scary.  

"My god...you're from Sector 7." 

His screen winked off again, but this time I was taking no chances with the thing, wresting it off of my head and throwing it in the furthest direction I could.  

"The guy's talking to me again, he knows I'm from inside the dome." I admitted weakly. I only really noticed the tugging on my arm now, so I reassured him that I was doing fine with another thumbs-up.  

"If that's the case, there will probably be some repercussions for your friends back home, which means the quicker we liberate the prisoners here, the sooner we can try to help you and your kind," One-One reasoned, her weapon drawn, "we need to do this quick, and we need to do this now. There's - " 

Too late, gunshots were already blaring through the air, and I suddenly lost my footing. One-Eight tried to hold on to me, but was taken away with me as we tumbled uncontrollably.  

We were separated from Hayl – One-One! 

I landed awkwardly on my back, my old cuts from a few days back now re-emerging. One-Eight was right alongside me, but apart from a few gasps, he was okay. His chest plate took on some of the impact from the fall. I aimed my weapon to where I thought the shots fired from, but I couldn't make anything out. I couldn't see her, either, and for a second I feared for the worst, that she was taken down.  

Fortunately, she leapt into view, landing awkwardly alongside us, barrel-rolling and grabbing both of our arms.  

"Move!" 

More shots behind us, almost like our footsteps were triggering them, and I wanted to turn around and see where they were coming from, to try and pop a few shots back at them. It took a moment before I realized I wasn't that good of a shot, and that looking back would probably lead to being killed, so I kept running. We were heading to what appeared to be the base of another hill, except this hill was too symmetrical, too perfect to be natural.  

One-One barged forward, slamming her armored shoulder against what I thought would be nothing but dirt and grass, but instead she burst right through a door. One-Eight and I weren't far behind, and she pushed it back before manually locking it. Breathless and hurting, I slumped to the ground – but she pulled me right back up again, having none of it.  

"We're not taking a break, there's more of them inside, and you can bet the bastards outside aren't going to sit and wait for us, either." 

So we kept moving, clambering downwards from hastily-constructed steps, moving continuously downwards for a solid ten minutes. Daylight was replaced with artificial lightbulbs that weren't nearly enough to properly illuminate this place. Pipes were beginning to sprout everywhere and anywhere, some of them covered in rust and clearly leaking. We reached another set of steps by then, a sheer drop just waiting for us if we placed our feet in the wrong place at the wrong time. I heard footsteps behind us, and they belonged to several Helmsmen, some of them with visors, a pair who were unmasked, but they all fired a shot or two before we disappeared downwards. It wasn't going to be long before they caught on to us, and they could make out our heat signatures in the first place. It was just a deadly game of hide and seek, the same kind I used to play in the first few months after I was 'born', but none of those games involved live rounds. One-Eight was struggling, and I was always watching for anybody to follow closely behind us.

"Keep moving!" One-One cried, leaping down several steps at a time, completely avoiding that drop as we kept spiraling downwards over and over again.

I heard something scream past my ear, something so close that it managed to send a ringing through them. I heard One-One fire a pair of rounds in its direction, and it caught the Helmsmen off-guard just enough for him to lose his balance. He fell, screaming in terror, sailing past us and further down through the hole into nothing.

It took several seconds to hear the impact at the bottom.

I helped One-Eight land on some solid ground once we actually made it to the bottom of those damn steps - ignoring the mess of a body that greeted us there - and into the longest concrete-laden corridor I had ever seen in my life, with another heavily-armored door waiting for us at the other end of it. It was clear that the sprint was taking its toll on all of us, especially One-Eight, who lost his balance and fell on his knees.  

Right as the rest of the soldiers who were chasing us poured into the same corridor from where we came in.  

It was too late to think, so I just fired my sidearm, catching the person in front. The advantage of this cramped place was that even somebody as hopeless as I was with a weapon didn't have to aim terribly hard in order to hit something. Unfortunately, they also had the same advantage. I put myself in front of my 'brother', popping two more shots as two more soldiers were caught in the chest. They pinged uselessly against hardened armor, but it distracted them for fractions of a second.

I was shooting people. I was trying to take their lives, and I didn't care. I tried to think about the precise point I changed into a cold-blooded killer, but something struck me against my plated arm before I could come up with an answer. I fell backwards from it, and my arm went entirely numb, my weapon dropping to the ground. I was lucky they got me there, but now I was vulnerable to be hit anywhere else.  

That was before One-One was right on them, firing so minutely that the bullets caught several small sections where there was nothing protecting them but the under-body suit. They were picked off easily, until they lay in a heap, just as her clip fell to her feet as she fed another into her gun. I was getting the feeling back in my hand, but slowly. My fingers were still struggling to respond to my demands, so I fetched my weapon with my left.  

One-Eight was still on his knees, almost trembling.  

"What's happening to him?"  

"This, this is where we escaped. All of this. This is all he knew, what all of us knew. He shouldn't be here, I shouldn't have brought him back here..." 

So the both of them were cracking, and I couldn't afford to join them. I could feel my heart race, my fingers turning numb as my fingers were wrapped around this pistol of mine. I crouched alongside One-Eight, making sure he looked at my face, so I could look into his one functioning eye.  

"Listen to me, they're not going to touch you. I promise," I whispered, trying to reassure him. Of course he didn't answer back at me, so I tried another thumbs-up. He didn't return the gesture there, either.  

I was running out of ideas, and the walls suddenly felt like they were closing in. It was getting claustrophobic in here.  

"Look, I don't know what this must have been like for all of you. Really, I don't, but if we don't move they're going to come find us. Please..."

One-One looked up at me, like she suddenly had an epiphany, moving to One-Eight and helping him to his feet. The guy was still shaking, but she kept on reassuring him until he slowly calmed down. He even smiled. I smiled back at him, glad that he wasn't caving in just yet. 

"You're right, of course you're right!" She eventually replied when she reloaded her weapon, keeping it at chest-level. "We can't afford to get nostalgic about this place. Come on, we're nearly inside."

"How far longer do we have to go?"

"Just beyond the door. We're inside the waste disposal system. When that door opens...It's not going to be nice, but it's our only way in.  

It explained why nobody was firing at us from the other side of that door, but my stomach churned at the mere thought of wading through, until I decided not to think about it. I wished I hadn't thrown the helmet away so soon. She walked towards it, heaving as she tried to make the circular lever in the center of the door move, to no avail. I soon joined her, pulling against it so hard than even with the power-assisted plating on my arm, getting it to budge was almost impossible. Eventually, it creaked before surrendering, and we spun it as far as it would go before the door opened.  

The first thing to hit us was the smell. 

It was horrifying, the worst thing my nose had ever experienced in my life. The sewer itself was larger than the corridor we were leaving to enter it, two narrow paths on either side of a disgusting river, with doors every hundred or so yards. The curved ceiling was far above our heads, obscuring my sense of scale. How far have we gotten underground? This place was a whole lot bigger even than Fibrtech, and we had only just arrived.  

She started moving – she knew where to go – so the both of us left behind had no choice but to follow. The odds of us being followed were pretty slim, but they were simply lying in wait for us. Did all of them know we were here, or had we picked off enough of them before they could relay the news back?  

"That man you saw, describe him to me," One-One demanded, so I told her about his obvious military background, likening him more to a General.  

That was enough for her.  

"I know him. He seemed to be the one running this place, made sure we got a good look at his face before he tortured us. He's not leaving this place alive." 

One-Eight groaned, but otherwise said nothing else.  

There was nothing else around here, but we seemed to be aiming for another door in particular, identical to the rest of them which peppered the hallway. The same sense of fear hit me, but then I remembered what had happened behind us, and it seemed to ease a little.  

I had already killed them. There was nothing else they could throw at me now. Were soldiers always like this?

This door opened slightly, rusted and worn. It took several pushes to get it to move at all, but when the three of us squeezed through we were caught in nothing but darkness. With no light to flash in front of it, I was faced with little choice but to follow them deeper inside, praying that the floor stayed level and the only footsteps I could hear belonged to us. 

"Abandoned drainage point," One-One explained to me before I had a chance to ask where we were. It certainly smelled like one, but being away from the source of the drainage was a relative luxury. I wasn't holding my breath as much as I was five minutes ago, "From here, we're going to climb up the steps at the end of this hall, go through Sections 1 through 8, understand?" 

"No," I admitted, because I hadn't a clue. She must have forgotten that I was never here to begin with, although I couldn't see her reaction in here.  

"Just stick with me, and only me. This is probably going to terrify you, Five-Zero." 

I was in no doubt that it would.  

There, at the end of the room just like she promised, a brittle ladder that was only visible because it was colored bright red, breaking through the grey. I couldn't see One-Eight even attempt to get up that, but there he was, moving ahead of me and behind our official escort, using his one arm to great effect. I was the idiot who stayed at the bottom looking at this in astonishment. 

But then I heard footsteps, footsteps behind us, and I was already on my way.  

The fear still hit me loud and clear when the thought of dying struck my mind, but I had to think about the folks back home. It had been three days since I left, what was happening on the city streets now? Was anything happening now? I hoped my parents weren't too worried about me...but I knew they would be, their child went ahead and gone missing. All my little injuries were brought right back while I climbed, my hands in pain every time I reached out for the next step. I couldn't see above me, but I was aware of the voices below me, getting disturbingly louder. Our door had been left open, so the bastards knew where to start looking.  

None of that mattered for the moment, because One-One had obviously reached the top, opening whatever latch in front of her and pooling light down on us. It wasn't bright by any means, but we had spent enough time in this place for it to blind me, my eyes closed as I pulled myself up onto the floor above me.  

"The latch! Seal it!" 

I coughed & heaved my battered body out of the way by the time One-One fell on her knees, grabbing the metal door & slamming it shut again. She reached for the circular handle on top of it, spinning it until it was wound tight. It wasn't going to stop them forever, but it would at least slow them down enough for us to make our escape.  

She grabbed my hand again, & we were off in an entirely random direction, just like she did the first time she pulled me to safety, a lifetime ago in my head. One-Eight had no problem following us this time, His gun outstretched in his hand...just as his second arm moved, gripping it tightly around the weapon. So he could move it, but that was something I decided to dwell on after we left this terrifying place.  

It was a laboratory, that much I was able to spot while I was running; rooms upon rooms full of test tubes and whiteboards, just like the Chemistry lab inside school. Holographic projections were spouting out from the wall itself, and a single man turned to look at us, obviously shocked in the way the beaker he held crashed to the ground.  

One-One popped off a single shot, and he soon joined it.

This felt different to firing on the Helmsmen. This felt different to defending yourself when a gun was pointed at you. That man was afraid, his face told as much. We caught him off-guard, and One-One was already moving through the lab, gazing at the projections herself, extending her hand so that the holographic letters and numbers passed through them. It looked like coding of some sort, nothing I could understand at first glance. She suddenly retracted her hand, no longer interested in what the floating numbers meant.

She marched right out of the lab, and we followed her. We walked over the unfortunate Scientist, leaving him on the floor and never looking back.  

We rounded another corner, more scientists, and this time One-Eight joined her in taking them down, the once-smiling face now completely distorted in anger. They were taken completely by surprise, they weren't even armed...should we have given them a chance to run, at least? 

But then I remembered – I wasn't the one who was forced to be confined here. They could have been the worst of the lot, for all I knew.  

We didn't stop at all, just kept moving from corridor to corridor, room to room, murdering everyone unfortunate enough to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. One-One was looking for something or someone, but she couldn't seem to find it, growing more and more impatient in the way she moved. For a place this large, however, there seemed to be only a handful of people, nowhere near enough staff to keep a place like this going. Even the lights seemed to have been switched off in the majority of corridors we raced through, only the bare minimum someone needed, making the grey concrete walls look even more imposing than they already did.

One more corner, and we were met with two more soldiers, with only overalls to offer as protection. My earlier rage was brought back at the memory of them firing at us in the woods, my own pistol aimed squarely at one of their foreheads. I fired one shot, and it placed itself right between his eyes so fast he didn't even have time to take his own gun from his holster. His colleague had already been dispatched, and I crouched down alongside them and relieved them of their weapons.  

The door they were guarding looked unassuming at first, but I peered inside, looking for anybody else I had to shoot...and just stood there, completely dumbstruck.  

There – right in front of me – was an enormous screen, covering an entire wall. It was semi-holographic in the way the buildings and people were able to briefly leap from it, making the picture truly three-dimensional. I moved closer and closer towards it, oblivious to One-One's demand for me to come back, because I recognized everything I was looking at. The streets looked the same, and on another section of the screen I could make out my school in the far-off distance. There were people everywhere, and there were soldiers, too. There were vehicles scattered everywhere, barricades every few meters. I could spot Fibrtech's headquarters, which seemed to have the highest concentration of military personnel of all.  

I was looking at Sector 7 - my home - and it was going up in flames.  

"If only you could see the damage your decision has made, Bepholo. Quarantine Sector 7. They can no longer be a part of our greater operation.
 
A shame." - Unknown

It was definitely a riot. 

There were dozens of people in the streets. Some of them were raiding buildings, smashing glass and being restrained by police. Protestors – who I assumed were all synthetics like us – were getting hit with water cannons and gas, being herded by every military personnel available. It was complete chaos.  

So far, there were no gunshots...yet.  

I watched all of this unfold in terror. I was numb, I couldn't even feel One-One grabbing my arm, furiously telling me to follow her, only stopping when she soon put the pieces of the puzzle together as well. She allowed a second to herself so she could look at the same footage, drawing the same conclusion.  

"This is your home, isn't it?"

I nodded, and I kept on watching. There were hundreds of camera feeds which made this enormous holographic screen, and almost all of them focused on several different groups of protestors. The Helmsmen weren't too far away, some of them even carrying shields as they brushed off anything that was thrown at them. They didn't have a prayer, those soldiers were simply too much for them. They didn't even need weapons.

I noticed a pair of synthetics, cut off from the rest. They must have been my age, but they were backed up against a wall, helpless. A Helmsmen grabbed one of them by the arm, forcing it behind his back. Even with no audio, I could imagine that protester's screams, his arm clearly broken. His friend tried to fend him off, but he was pinned down by another pair of men. His face hit the pavement, and his body went limp. It was obvious as they tied his hands that they knocked him out, carrying them over their soldiers while his partner kept struggling to break free. I could see a Fibrtech recovery vehicle, and they were forcibly thrown inside it. 

"I owe you an apology," One-One whispered, looking at the same display that I was watching, "You had it just as bad as we did. We'll make it back there. I promise, but we need to move now." 

So I moved, although it felt like I didn't want to move ever again. I had no choice, what she said made sense, and we needed to finish what we started here before we could start worrying about Sector 7. Aaron was the only person running through my mind this time, praying that he was keeping well out of sight and out of danger while all of this was going on.  

We left the footage, because we were vulnerable if we were left wandering in the same place for any real length of time, so the three of us kept moving, always checking each and every door, always taking out anybody unfortunate enough to be in there. It became a repetitive pattern, and I couldn't tell how much time had passed before we rounded a near-identical set of corridors, barging into an almost identical room full of identical people.

Again, I noticed that for a complex this large, there were very few people actually inside.

There were rooms housing only a few desks, laptop screen and holographic projectors abandoned. Some of the images and information I saw meant nothing to me, and we were moving too quickly to make any sense of it. Some rooms seemed enormous, entire lecture rooms almost as large as the main hall inside my school. Aside from a few spare unfortunate men and women, they were empty.

One-One kicked down yet another wooden door, her weapon drawn at nothing in particular. This room was different, in that it was completely deserted yet it looked like its occupants had only left the place minutes before. Yet more feeds were displayed on the wall, although they were simply feeds of several different places; one displayed a forest, completely stationary, while another showed a moving picture of mountains and snow. 

She reached for something, a pad of some sort. It was large enough that it needed both of her hands simply to lift the thing off of the desk, and she looked at it, puzzled. One-Eight and I moved closer, obviously aware that whatever caught her eye, it was important enough for her to lower her guard. 

'Why should we allow them to live, Bepholo? We discussed this, the Council witnessed this discussion. Your proposal was a scientific breakthrough, but we denied your initial request to create life from scratch. We needed our proposal to help the life that we already have, the life we need to shelter until the next phase of our plan. We outlined this. You accepted this. We approved your second proposal on the promise that they would only be used to help the people we already care for. 

Yet you chose to defy us. 

Some of them live inside there, while others reside out here. How can you live with yourself, Bepholo? '

"It explains our situation...slightly," she interpreted, pinching the bridge of her nose while she closed her eyes, " Some of them live inside there, while others reside out here, that has to be us. There's too much we don't understand but...I'm pretty sure that we're the topic of discussion. As for the rest of it...I don't know."

"Did they ever mention Bepholo?" I asked, the name rolling off my tongue awkwardly. It was clearly a person, and a high-ranking person at that. 

"Not as far as I know."

Then what was left of the lights flashed off. Every single feed flickered off in an instant, replaced by a red-tinted glow.  

"They killed the main generator," One-One guessed, suddenly moving, "If they're still here, they're going to have the advantage now, follow me and don't leave my side for a second!" 

We needed that pad, it had answers to things we didn't even know to ask, but it was just as dead as the rest of the projections inside that room, and there really wasn't much more time to waste. We broke out into the same criss-crossing corridors, winding down each and every one of them until they ended eventually, replaced by a single straight line between us and a glassed-off canopy. I couldn't see what was lying in wait below us, but I took One-One's advice & kept myself glued to her side, right until we made it to the very edge, & took a look at the view below.  
 
It stretched out further than anything I had ever seen before. Below us was a warehouse of cubicles...or cells, with grid-style paths covering every single centimeter. They were still pretty visible, flood lights above us concentrating on them.  

This had to be it, this had to be where they were being held.  

"How do we get down?" 

"Staircase on the far-left," she replied, and she moved as soon as she finished, prompting One-Eight and I to follow. We were hot on each other's heels, and the air was being sucked out of my lungs faster than I could breathe some back in. I kept glancing at the massive cells below us, and what could possibly be in store down below. How many of them were there? Hundreds? Thousands?  

Footsteps, but I didn't want to turn around to see who was chasing us, because I knew they weren't going to be friendly. We ran towards the staircase itself, except I stayed behind, ducking underneath the corner and preparing my gun. It was nothing but suicide, but they seemed to know what they were doing, so I would buy the both of them as much time as I could.  

My heart ended up beating inside my throat the entire time.

One man rushed towards the end of the hall, completely unaware of where I was. I tripped him and sent him crashing down. He landed awkwardly, and he didn't seem to move afterwards. I kicked his gun out of his hand, took it, and chased after my friends once I was satisfied there was nobody else coming our way. I doubted he was going to be the only one chasing us. Once I hit the floodlights, I could see the both of them, moving cautiously with weapons drawn. I joined them – catching One-One's glare of disapproval - and moved closer towards one block In particular. It was made of concrete, anybody could see that, but it was only when you were pressed close to it that you could make out the sounds of the occupants inside.  

There was sobbing, crying, screaming.  

One-One moved towards the entrance, trying to insert a series of number into the pad installed next to it, failing.  

"The guards have cards that swipe to allow access," she explained, "I thought I memorized the code before we escaped but they must have changed it!" 

One-Eight was whimpering again, his now-functional charred hand back inside his robe, scared. 

"Hang on," I replied, and brushed past her as I moved back towards the way we came, back towards the man I knocked out. I unzipped the top of his jumper, discovering several straps around his neck. I tore them off before I returned to them, waving them in the air.  

"What about these?" 

She snatched them off of me then, swiping all of them in an attempt to find the right one for the right lock. It was taking a lot of time, and the alarms were still ringing.  

"None of them work, they must have these cells in lockdown!" She cried, before using more physical means of getting inside, shooting a salvo of bullets against the door itself. Everybody inside began to scream, but when she tried to wrest the door open, it worked.  

But only barely. The door only moved enough for people to escape from it one at a time, and they all poured out. They were completely naked, some of them looked like people I recognized from my home – save for the normal scars and bruises – while others were simply broken and damaged. Several of them limped out, and that was when I started to realize just how many there were.

Under the floodlights, the amount of people I recognized quickly grew. I saw copies of copies, several different groups of the same people, and the more doors we opened, the more that quickly joined them. More of them resembled Hayley, resembled One-One. Others resembled me...and that was the part that really caught my heart in my throat. I was used to One-Eight, in that he looked so much different than me, even though we were both copies of the same boy. These copies looked virtually like me in many different ways; some had the exact same face that I had, perhaps with only one or two different scars, while others looked even worse than the copy I was walking alongside all this time. Those copies came towards me, suffocating me, asking me what was going on. They all had the same voice, my voice.

Ian's voice.

One-One was busier than I was, rounding up as many of them as she could, calling for them to follow her lead while she pryed several other cell doors open. There were easily a hundred or so of us, maybe two hundred. The further we traveled inside, the more deformed these clones appeared to be. They were soon missing limbs, and a pair of them were completely blind.  

Including the last boy to leave the cell... 

He was Aaron. At least, the cloned equivalent of Aaron. Just like One-Eight, he looked almost unrecognizable compared to the guy back home. The same misshapen nose, bloody scars that looked like they only healed recently.  

I immediately levitated toward him.  

"It's okay," I assured him, " we're here to get you out." 

"W-Who are you? What do you want with me? You're lying! You're just going to carve me up again, well I won't let you!" 

He tried to swipe at me then, but he was too weak to do anything. They all were, I didn't know how long it had been since they were fed. I still didn't know what it was like to be confined here, although I could clearly see what an effect it was having on everybody here. 

"What's your code?" I asked him, watching One-One gather up the rest of them, forming them into a roughly-circular shape as she explained to them what she was doing. 

"Two-Four-Seven." 

"Listen, we're going to get you out of here, because we need you. Alright? You're just going to have to trust me." 

"I swear, if you're just one of them screwing around with me..." He responded, with the same voice as my best friend, a voice that sounded so tortured here it hit me hard in the chest. I linked up with him, helping him along even though it was clear Four-Seven still had doubts about me.  

He was also going to be useless in a fight. That complicated things.  

But I'm pretty useless here, and I'm still alive.

We moved from cell to cell – with One-One spending three full clips of ammo shooting her way through the locking systems – before we had even more of us rallied up in our group. They huddled together, afraid.  It was a sea of the same faces, and more than anything else I had seen, it was the sight of the same faces that terrified me the most. They all looked scarred, broken, horrified. I was beginning to recognize even more of them, and they were still only a tiny handful of the amount of prisoners we needed to help escape.  

We were going to move towards the last four rows of cells, readying my gun to pry open the lock with a few well-placed bullets, but by then it was too late.  

They came pouring in through every nook and cranny they could find, all of them completely covered in the same Fibrtech armor suits I'd seen too many times now, completely taking all of us by surprise. They didn't waste any time before they opened fire.  

We started dropping like flies then, several of them started collapsing, covered in blood. Four-Seven screamed in my hands, trying to escape from me. I stopped him from struggling and rushed backwards, putting a cell between me and them. One-One and One-Eight fired back, but they were hopelessly outgunned and outmatched this time around. Many of the synthetics we just helped out of their cells began screaming in all directions, and they were picked off one by one. I saw several copies of me - several copies of Ian - crumble to the ground, and I could hear screams from everybody else still trapped inside their cells. Soldiers were accessing the terminals which granted them access...moving inside and opening fire on everything that moved.  

Their screams stopped.  

I pushed backward, thankfully not in any clear line of fire, and my two friends were already closing the gap towards me, One-One covering the rear and popping shots back at them. She caught a few in the back, but the rounds did nothing against their metal plates. She was screaming at the synthetics to run, to follow her. 

One of them, however, managed to get a lucky shot in...and she fell.  

I didn't know why, especially since I was now capable of taking somebody out without feeling a thing, but it was when One-One collapsed face-first onto the floor that I truly realized just where I was, and the very real possibility of death that could creep up at any time. It set off a chain of feelings ranging from dread to pure unadulterated fear that made my limbs lock up and my thoughts go numb.  

But I couldn't go numb, not now, not when Four-Seven needed to be taken out of here, and not when One-Eight was whimpering and crying over the girl that saved us, as well.  

I grabbed him by the collar and carried the both of them back towards our staircase, crying out for the others to follow. I didn't know how I managed to do it, but they seemed to listen to me inside this firefight, swerving past me as they tried to make their escape. All I could see were the faces of the girl I had just seen being killed. It was hell. It was madness and I didn't know what to do.

The Helmsmen were quickly rushing toward us. I popped two more shots their way, although they harmlessly pinged off of their plating, before I just gave up and pushed Four-Seven up the stairs with me. Once we made it to the top, we started running towards our exit, because what else were we supposed to do? I hadn't a clue where to go from here, other than the urge to just go home. 

Maybe that was it – maybe that's where we should be going, back to tell everyone of what was going on here. What was the point of that, though, when the very people who were policing that city were lying about the outside world, who knew about everything that was going on here?  

I kept moving, deciding to think about it once I made it outside.  

Back through the corridors, back through the darkness, and I could still feel Four-Seven struggling, but he was sobbing quietly to himself, not even able to see what had happened. One-Eight was by my side, but I could tell that he was looking backwards, back towards the sounds of gunshots. It didn't seem like they were chasing us, although I bet my life that at least a dozen of them were dispatched to take us out. We failed, we failed to get them out, now they were being slaughtered like -  

I stopped thinking about it, because I heard a noise and spotted a flashlight in one of the rooms. There were swears as books and glass hit the floor, whoever was in there desperately trying to find something. I moved slowly towards it – getting One-Eight to hold Four-Seven for me while I investigated, something neither of them wanted but were left with little choice - and crouched just outside the opened door. It was a single man, I could just about make out a large white lab coat draped around him.  

He was mine.  

I barged in there, taking him by surprise, knocking him to the floor and pressing the gun up to his head in a way One-One would have done if she was in my position right now, any trace of fear inside of me shoved to one side. He started crying for help, but I pressed my hand against his mouth - and my gun right against his skull.  

"You're going to stop screaming, or I'm going to blow your brains out," I warned him as quietly as I could, always glancing at the door just in case anybody caught up with us. Some of them had visors, and I knew that meant that there was nowhere to hide once they found out heat signatures. I could still hear the gunshots from down there, for crying out loud. They must had been still picking off any clone who was unfortunate enough to have been discovered.

The bastards. 

He seemed to take my advice and shut his mouth, so I took my hand away from his, realizing he was breathing heavily. I also noticed that I knocked his glasses to one side, so I reached out and grabbed them with my free hand, handing it to him. I took the gun away from his head and stood up so he would be able to put them on, but afterward the gun was pointed in his direction again.  

"W-What do you want with me? I'm unarmed!" 

"You're going to help us out, and you're coming with us," I replied, not knowing where in hell those words came out of, but out they were, out in the open where we both heard them. The alarms were really getting irritating now, but apart from the military presence down below, there hardly seemed to be anybody in this complex. It felt more like an evacuation than responding to an attack.  

"Please, please don't kill me. I'll do anything." 

"Tell us how to get out and lead the way, and I swear if you're planning on leading us somewhere other than the exit, I'll make sure I plant a bullet inside you before I'm taken down." 

Where did this come from? You're not like this! 

But I was like this, because I knew I meant every single word of it. I didn't want to prove it, but after everything I've seen, I just knew.  

"Okay Okay, just follow me, and keep it quick and quiet, there's a vehicle docking station, but it's on the other end of this platform. That's nearly a kilometer away...we could get shot." 

"Trust me, I wouldn't worry about getting shot from anybody other than me," I growled, and pinned my weapon against his back, pushing him outside of the lab. One-Eight and Four-Seven were waiting patiently outside, the latter still sobbing, his arms crossed in some sort of self-reassurance. Our new friend started moving, his flashlight in tow, and we followed him.  This was the gamble I made now, if he was leading use towards our death, then there was no way of escaping, even if it did mean taking him along with us. The thought of making it back home was starting to fade more and more every second, even when I wanted to believe we'd make it, just so we could say what had been going on out here. 

When he said a kilometer, he really meant it in the literal sense. I didn't know that anyone could make such a complicated and metallic structure, and hide it so deep underground. Couldn't have been less than two hundred meters below soil. We emerged from another corridor into a vast open space, but it was so bare and unoccupied that I was starting to ask just why nobody was here, military or otherwise.  

"Where are your friends?" I asked him, turning around to see how my two pals were faring. So far, they were still breathing...which was the only good thing in this situation.  

"They've been evacuated, I came back because...I needed something." 

"Well it doesn't matter now. You should have kept running." 

"Yeah, maybe I should have... but you freaks should have stayed in your tubes!" 

"I never came from here," I was quick to remind him, watching as he stopped in his tracks there and then, flashing his light at me. At first, I thought he was blinding me, a chance to knock my gun out of my hands and run for dear life, so I took a step back and pointed that pistol at his perfectly normal face, but he simply lowered it, raising his hands in the air.  

"If you didn't come from here...then where did you come from?" 

"Sector 7." 

"Wait...you mean the subject colony?"  

"Subject colony?" - I was getting more and more information every single day and I didn't know what to do with it - "You have a lot of questions to answer once we make it out of here!" 

I had enough, so I ordered him to keep escorting us, and he had little choice but to listen to me - and my gun - and keep moving. It was almost twenty minutes of cautiously looking over my back and staring at the same concrete walls before we got somewhere of any significance. 

But not for the reasons I wanted.  

It was a vehicle bay all right, there were dozens of trucks, SUVs, even a tank stationed in here. Even draped only in red emergency lights and alarms, I could see that the place was packed, and we could pick any one of them in order to make a quick escape. I also spotted several synthetics in the dark, still naked, still terrified. They somehow made it here on their own, but there were only a few dozen of them, sixty at most. That was a far cry from the hundreds that we tried to save in the beginning, and my heart sank just thinking about it.

Unfortunately, I could also make out the twenty or so suits standing in front of us, all with weapons ranging from rifles to what looked like shotguns, all completely engulfed in armor that we would never have a hope in cracking. There was simply too many of them, and I took in a deep breath, accepting my fate.  

But they didn't shoot.  

Instead, one of them marched confidently toward us, taking off his helmet in the process. Our little scientist shone his light at him – a stupid thing to do – but it didn't even take a second before I realized that the person wearing the suit wasn't normal in the way normies were. Instead, he had the same ugly scars, the same clearly-broken nose and purple veins that could only be associated with a clone. In fact, he moved right past me and aimed straight for our escort, pinning him down and grabbing his neck, intent on squeezing the life out of him.  

"Wait!" I cried, moving between him and the man I somehow managed to take hostage, trying to break his hold, "He's helping us, stop!" 

He let go immediately, and I could hear his victim take in a great big gulp of fear, holding his own neck in terror. The man – the clone – who attacked him took a good long look at me, as well as my other two synthetic friends. He was clearly older than either of us, created from a DNA sample from a middle-aged donor. His face was covered in stubble, and I noticed that one of his eyes never moved.  

"Who are you?" I whispered, still unsure as to why I wasn't dead yet, or why my kind where in full-body armor plating when the rest of them were being eradicated in their cells.  

"I'm One-Nine-Nine, and it's a good thing you ran into this son. We were just leaving." 

"People of Oceyron. As your acting Mayor it is my job to ensure the safety and security of the fine people of this city, and I have failed to do so. Though the fighting has passed for now, we will always bear the shame of the actions of some of our citizens. Martial Law will be introduced shortly, and I will temporarily stand down from my position. Fear not, because once Fibrtech access the damage, and when order is re-established, we will move forward. May this event forever teach us a lesson, we must remain unified, otherwise we will tear each other apart." - an extract from First Mayor Avery Filtyr during his ninty-first Oceyron address, standing down from his position as the Helmsmen establish temporary control. It comes as the vast majority of synthetics had been captured and taken to Fibrtech Industries, though others remain in hiding...

You wanted to know why the complex seemed to have so few military men and women defending it? It was because we were never the problem to them.  

Instead, it was Nine-Nine and his battalion of armored synthetics, who now had access to some pretty heavy infantry. We were completely pointless to their mission, striking at precisely the wrong time. If we knew what they were planning to do, we could have sided with them, we could have saved all of them back there.  

We could have saved her.  

They were busy taking stock of all the vehicles they could get their hands on, while another pair of them were busy getting to grips with that tank. That left me with Four-Seven and One-Eight, while our captive had been cuffed with his hands behind his back, terrified.  

I was, as well.  

"You...you're actually here to take us out of here," Four-Seven whispered, holding onto my arm as we walked to nowhere in particular, "thank you..." 

"There's no problem," I trailed off, because honestly I was more worried about my counterpart, who was standing all by himself, looking at nothing in particular.  

"I'm really sorry," I said, moving closer towards him, "I don't know how that must feel. You've known her longer than I did, and it hurts, it hurts like hell." 

Of course he said nothing, but he looked at me and smiled for a fraction of a second. I tried giving him a thumbs-up, but he didn't return it.  

"What about the others? They're still crawling around the cells," I heard one of them mutter at Nine-Nine, referencing the soldiers still lingering behind us. The rest of the synthetics were being grouped together, while most of them were still getting to grips with what was going on. I could see them being moved into groups under the emergency lighting, making sure there were a mix of several different copies in each. I could still make out at least three more copies of me among them. One of them even glared back.  

He simply scoffed, "They've already been taken care of. Eight-Two relayed the good news back to me a minute or two ago. They're on their way back to our current location.  

It would have been helpful if you'd 'taken care of them' a minute or two earlier... 

"Four-Seven, is there anything I can do to help?"  

"I'm hungry...I need clothes..." 

The best they could do on such short notice were a pile of rags, couped with what was once an over-sized blanket which was stitched to make a robe. I could at least help him with the 'food' part, reaching into the pouch she handed me a few nights back and giving him some berries. They weren't much - and he seemed to hesitate as if they were poisonous, but once he tried one he instantly devoured the rest, his stomach still grumbling.  

"They'll be more, I promise! I just need to talk to the leader of this group for just a second..." 

One-Eight was stumbling from place to place so I walked towards him and made sure he was okay, before I tried searching for whom I assumed was the commanding officer of this squad, catching him climb onto the tank, inspecting it.  

"No 50mm shells for this thing," I could hear him moan, stroking the cannon like he was polishing it, " We could have sorely needed this..." 

"Excuse me?" 

He turned to look at me again, leaping to the ground, the weight of his armor creating an enormous thud underneath his feet. He stood almost a head taller than me, his weapon draped along his side, secured in its holster.  

"You managed to help some of them to escape, it's more than what we had done. Those sick bastards went ahead and denied us any more of them, preferring to take them out one-by-one. Absolutely sickening..." he seemed to be talking to himself, but he crouched slightly so he was eye level with me, no longer distracted, "what can I do for you?" 

"I need your help," I stated blankly.  

"Well we could all do with some help nowadays. We split with One-One and her group when we made it outta this hole in the first place, those freaks were too close for us to make any concrete plan. We found her down there...it's such a shame." 

"She saved me." 

"She saved a lot of us," he replied.  

"I need you to take me home, if Sector 7 would mean anything to you?" 

He crouched even further, getting a better look at me then. Up close – although it was hard to make out with this dark-red lighting around us – but I could see a great chunk of his left ear was missing.  

"You mean...you come from the dome?" 

"Yeah, and it's not looking great in there, I need to get back, to help my family, my friends, nobody in there knows of the outside – we all thought it was radioactive." 

"Well, you're lucky, because that's where we're planning on going." 

He held up a pad of some sort, something thin like a card, but in the middle pulsed a glowing circle, illuminating & taking the shape of a man, surrounded in pixels. It was hard to make out at first, but I then managed to put the face together.  

"General Lough," he explained anyway, "although the word General can be used loosely in describing him, considering he was stationed in a non-military operation. Us." 

"I don't understand." 

"Let the Scientist explain it to you," he responded, and he walked towards the terrified man in white, pointing a gun right at him, the second weapon drawn at his face in as many hours, "Go ahead, tell him." 

He hesitated for a second, but he was left with very little choice but to obey.  

"Our operation here was to duplicate & grow syntethics using various different methods, to varying degrees of success. To get straight to the point: we were aiming to flash-clone vital organs, extracting them and discarding their donors when they were no longer of any use." 

"Makes you wanna shoot him even more, doesn't it?" Nine-Nine cooed at me, but I was too busy taking in all that information to listen to what he was saying. Instead, I moved a little closer to the Scientist, enraged.  

"All of this, for organ extraction?" 

"You don't understand! Do you realize how close we are to perfecting our cloning technique? You say you come from Sector 7, right? Did you ever wonder why you are almost proportionally perfect to the original DNA of your original, while your friends over there are in various states of decay? We can now clone humans for a variety of purposes, to return people who died in cruel accidents to their bereaved loved ones, to supplement our armed forces, to further the course of science! We are almost at the ability to duplicate organs without creating whole-scale synthetics to house them in initially,  It's all because of the sacrifice these subjects around you that you exist in the first place!" 

"Shut your mouth!" I spat, the urge to straight-up cut his neck almost too tempting to ignore, "Don't try and validate this! You make human beings just to kill them!" 

"Synthetics," he corrected, but by then I punched him across the face. I yelled as I felt my knuckles crack against his cheekbone, but I hoped I caused him quite a bit more damage in the long run. He stumbled on the ground, unable to get back up, swearing and struggling. 

"That was fun," Nine-Nine commented, but his pistol was in his hands, ready to fire. 

"No don't!" I protested, "We're going to need him. We need somebody to help make it back inside Sector 7 to start with." 

I thought he was going to ignore me and my advice – I wouldn't have blamed him, to be honest – but instead he shrugged, backing off.  

"It takes a stronger man than I am to hate something so much, and yet choose to save his ass." 

A part of me didn't want to 'save' him at all - quite the opposite in fact, the mere thought of this man contributing to how these people were treated made my fists clench - but what would be the point if we just shot him right here and now? We would be just like him, just like them all. 

"Yeah," I admitted after what seemed like an eternity. Our prisoner seemed to be shrinking away, almost huddled over. I didn't pity him.

"Alright, well we got no other reason to be standing around here looking pretty, so saddle up, put your ass in any truck you can find. We're moving out of here, and you can bet they won't be done with us just yet. We're burning daylight, here!" 

Nine-Nine was done playing around, his words sending the others into movement. They grabbed whatever vehicle they could, some of them nothing more than exposed parts with wheels attached, while others were fully-plated monsters, almost as big as that tank. Four-Seven and One-Eight were right behind me, and so was the Scientist, his cheek already beginning to turn slightly green...or maybe it was just the darkness playing tricks on me, I couldn't make things out clearly in here.  

"Hey, your friend got an access code to that hanger door over there?" One of them cried out, and I turned towards him, wondering the exact same thing. After a few brief seconds, he sighed and started moving forwards, walking towards a terminal on the right-hand side of what I assumed was another wall.  

"I'm going to need my hands for this," he whined. 

"No you don't," I answered, somehow taking it upon myself to be his escort, "just tell me the code, I'll type it out." 

"TheFifteenSectorsOfAUnitedEmpire"  

"That means something," I guessed, once I finished typing in the letters and watching as the wall just ahead of us strain under the pressure of its own mechanical movement, finally partitioning and letting in some much needed air and daylight. I wondered how we could be so close to ground level when we buried so deep underground to start with. I couldn't feel us moving upwards when we walked here, but the sun was so bright that it took my eyes some getting used to before I could make anything out in the forest again. Once they had, there were already tracks created in the ground as each and every vehicle was moving off towards...somewhere.  

"There are fifteen Sectors," he admitted, and I knew he really didn't want to say that, "each one completely independent of each other, and completely oblivious to each other." 

I could have asked him to continue explaining, but honestly there was enough to wrap my head around as it was, & I was going to need him to explain more about how he thought his job was ethical in the slightest.  

"What's your name?" 

"Layton. Layton Morris. PhD." 

"Well, PhD, you must be smart enough to keep it quiet until I need you to talk." The letters meant nothing to me, yet he spoke like they meant something highly significant. 

The four of us were assigned another SUV, exposed but with enough room for eight people. They offered Four-Seven an a body suit, something he was relieved about once I told him. Once I helped assemble the pieces around him - something which took no more than five minutes once you knew which pieces go where - we took off, following the rest of the convoy into the dense forest beyond and further away than anywhere we've traveled so far. We were definitely moving further away from the dome I called my home, but I decided not to ask and annoy the people who saved my life. They were going to head in that direction eventually, they were probably just getting ready for it. I just hoped they made it in time – I couldn't bear to lose anybody else the way we just lost One-One like that.  

There were no roads to speak of here, not even any tracks which would have made things any easier, so we were forced to tackle rough bumps on the ground, break through upright roots which grew out of the ground, belonging to trees which stretched further than the eye could really see, their leaves of every various shade of color. It was beautiful, and it only got more colorful the further we continued to travel. Minutes turned into hours, even when I had nothing to measure time with, so I just watched the sun as it reached the very top of the sky, staring at it as it began to fall, my stomach churning from the punishing ride. Whenever the trunks of trees gave way, a breeze blew from my right-hand side, a welcome change from the stale confines of that complex. We were at the back of the convoy now, but it didn't seem to matter to me too much. Nobody seemed to be on our tail, and it felt like these guys took them down with relative ease. I just hoped this wasn't going to be nothing more than a false sense of security.  

"Where are we going?" 

It was Four-Seven, unable to see anything that was going on around him. I genuinely felt terrible that he couldn't see the rainbow-colored leaves in the way we all could.  

"I don't know, but someplace where we can stay for the night." 

"You said you were from Sector 7? What is that?" 

"A city." 

"It must have been perfect..." 

"It almost was," was my answer, because at the end of the day, it really was. At least, compared to what these folks were going through.  

It was only when night was beginning to take over that we arrived in the middle of somewhere. We were beginning to slow down, but there didn't seem to be any particular destination worth speaking of. I was so used to the idea of caves that I genuinely looked around for anything that even looked like rock, but instead, I saw metal.  

It was another building, a small one, something which looked like it could have been made in a single day, but it looked completely inconspicuous out here, grey meeting every other color surrounding it. There were also many more of them, except those ones were pretty well hidden behind the actual trees themselves, blanketed by branches. They were hidden in plain sight, and each one seemed to be able to taken in more than a dozen of us. There were containers to spare. 
 
Then we got closer, and I realized that there were more people, easily double the amount who saved me. They were all wearing some sort of body armor, though most of them were the simple underlying pieces as opposed to the full bulletproof plating placed on top of it. Still, it meant we had quite a formidable group at our disposal. We parked up, and I helped One-Eight and Four-Seven out of their seats before moving off of the truck myself. Layton was escorted by another of Nine-Nine's men, still in handcuffs and still miserable. The journey took its toll on him, his skin was pale and he looked like he was about to throw up.  

Not that I felt sorry for him in any way.  

We were escorted towards one of these buildings, nothing more than concrete tents, no doors, but there were two storeys inside, with the first floor covered in hammocks while the ground was used to keep a vehicle each, as well as some pretty heavy-duty weaponry and gear. It was simple, but it would get the job done. It sure beat sleeping in a soaked cave lying on the ground.  

"Looks pretty simple, but these things mask out infrared and heat signatures," I heard behind me, and it was Nine-Nine who was approaching me, wearing minimal armor, "We snuck up on a whole bunch of them a few weeks back, took them out quickly and quietly. That's why we're armed, and armored to the teeth. We were the lucky ones. One-One was not. She was a damn good person, especially considering what she went through in there – what we all went through in there – we should have got in contact with her somehow, to tell her what we found and what we were doing..." 

"Yeah..." 

"Listen, I have you to thank. Those two you see over there, your little buddies? They're unusable, they were meant for the slaughter, yet you took care of them even when she was gone. That takes a lot of guts. We need somebody like that around here." 

I didn't feel the satisfaction in those compliments in the day he probably wanted me to feel, but I appreciated them all the same.  

"Thanks." 
 
"Look, I know you're still taking in all that's happened around here. Believe it or not, we still are. From what I hear, your people have absolutely no idea what's going on inside that little glass dome of yours. Now I don't know about you, but I think they need to know, right?" 

"Exactly!" 

"Glad to hear, but there's been a complication. You see, The General and what's left of his squad have retreated back towards Sector 7. Basically – they're planning on enforcing martial law in the place. That government of yours? They're being dissolved, I've been briefed about what's going on in there as well. It's not exactly peaceful. We plan on heading in there, taking advantage of the chaos, and take the bastard out and establish control. Once we have a city under our control, we can start branching out towards other sectors, and if that little boy in the over-sized lab coat is speaking the truth, we have a lot of sectors to get our mitts on. You with me so far?" 

I had to admit, I didn't know if I was. Heading back home was my only aim, and that was it when it came to the long-term, but maybe I was being naive. Why did I think that we were going to be left alone, even if we succeeded? Every single Sector, though?  

If they're doing the same horrible things to my kind as they're doing here, then we had to try, right? 

"I'm with you," I eventually responded, enough for him to nod his head, understanding.  

"It's okay, we'll take things one step at a time, alright? But first things first, we're going to need to know everything we can about the place, and who better than a boy who lived in the inside? " 

"Can we talk later?"  

"Of course, get some shut-eye, we're not going anywhere anytime soon. You deserve it after today." 

So he left, off on some other errand, and I scaled the ladder towards one of the hammocks, dropping what was left of my belongings onto one in particular. I began to rest myself on it, exhausted and only aware of just how sore everything was now. As always, I thought about what was happening back home: were my parents alright? Was Aaron keeping out of trouble? Were all of my friends keeping out of trouble? Was Hayley okay? 

But I always strayed back towards One-One in the end. Her face, her voice, the fact that I was only walking and talking because of her, it was enough for me to well up, tears falling down my cheek even when I really didn't want them to.  

I'm so sorry, I'll make sure nothing like what you went through will ever happen again! Just you watch. 
 
 

"Several Synthetics are still missing or unaccounted for. It is your duty to report their whereabouts as early as possible. Refusal to hand over any product of the program, or withdrawal of information that could lead to their location, will result in immediate imprisonment. I'm a lot less lenient than Avery. Don't test me." - Helmsmen General Lough, in his first address to the public since establishing Martial Law. Small numbers of Synthetics remain in hiding within Sector 7, while fighting and protests have ceased entirely...

I couldn't sleep. 
 
The dream started peacefully enough. I was walking to school, the same annoying weight of my bag pressing on my back. I was talking to somebody - I couldn't remember who - but it was something that made me laugh. I couldn't remember laughing like that before, I couldn't remember ever being so happy heading towards school before. I remembered watching the sun rise above the dome, peering in above me, except this time I wasn't worried about what was lying outside. For once, with my eyes shut, I was perfectly content.  
 
Then I felt something crash into me, and that feeling ended.  
 
My face scraped the tarmac. I could feel every second of it. I hit a wall somewhere, I couldn't see exactly where it was, but I could hear the screaming. Hands were grabbing at me, turning me around. They were just shadows to me now, and I couldn't breathe. It felt like somebody had filled my lungs up with water, like I was drowning and everybody else were breathing just fine. It was only then when everything else started to hurt - my arms, my chest, my face. Somebody told me I was going to be okay, but I knew I wouldn't be. I remembered whimpering, just as the lights started to fade out... 
 
When I woke up, I was covered with sweat, stinging my eyes, so I had to sit up and wipe them while I took a look around. It was dark out, there were several others sleeping around me, but One-Eight's hammock was empty. It must have been raining, because I could hear it outside, turning around to watch it drip from the opening of our little home. While I decided to slum in nothing but my pants underneath my blanket, the rest still wore every single piece of their armor, refusing to take anything by chance. I should have done the same with what little pieces of a suit I had for myself, but I needed to see where One-Eight was, because the guy could easily get lost in this weather.  

I draped myself over the netting, landing awkwardly on my feet. Once I was fully dressed and ready to go, I slung down the ladder and onto soft grass. Rain hit my face, nothing but drizzle, but it sounded like it was getting louder.  

Just perfect. 

I went out in it, unable to look at the multicolored leaves around us in the dark, but there were still people moving from compartment to compartment, lights still winking and cackling. Several of the people we rescued could be seen inside those compartments, still wearing the rags they were given. I spotted another copy of Nine-Nine, but this copy was trembling, huddled around others while he took a sip of whatever sort of drink he was given. There were others I still couldn't recognize as I walked past them, but there were many different versions of the same person, each one of them either staring off into the distance or taking a look at those who wore armor and weapons. Trucks and SUVs were suffocatingly close, and I squeezed through them while I walked towards the center of the camp, a compartment larger than the others. It was shielded from the weather by the tree grown far above it and full of nothing but equipment. A generator hummed in the background, the reason why the lights and holographic screens were running in the first place, and several of them were taking down notes, studying what they were watching in front of them.  

They were watching Sector 7. My home.  

I couldn't look away from it, so I moved closer and just looked for anything that I recognized. I made out a lot of it, but I also recognized the military uniform. They were everywhere, littering the streets. There were no protesters, none at all.  

Then they vanished, snapping away from view.  

Somebody swore, mentioning something along the lines of 'they were bound to find out sooner or later', and by the time they came online again there was nothing but static. It didn't matter to me now, I saw all that I needed to see.  

They were winning, and the General was there. I shuddered at the thought of what he could do.  

They didn't pay any particular attention to me, so I tried looking for One-Eight again. I quietly hoped he didn't stray too far from us, but I was beginning to get a little bit worried now, moving from place to place to see if he was around. He wasn't.  
 
I did, however, spot Layton, slumped in a tiny compartment of his own and surrounded by three others.  

Curious, I moved closer towards him, realizing that they moved apart to allow me to come closer to him. It was weird, I was expecting the exact opposite, but there I was, face-to-face with somebody who was directly involved with the program. I didn't know why that fact only seemed to register now, but he would have been shot on sight if we hadn't forced him to lead us out of that place to begin with.  

"What do you want?" He muttered, clearly in no mood. His coat was crumpled in a corner, instead wearing the undergarments of the same armor everybody else was wearing - it was astonishing that they gave him that much courtesy.  

"I just want to talk." 
 
"I'm not in the mood to answer." 
 
"I saved your life back there," I reminded him, and he knew it, "These guys would have taken you out, no hesitation. I think you at least owe me an explanation for what you were doing." 

"I've already given my reasons," he spat, standing up and drawing his little security detail to surround him. He put his hands up in the air in surrender, though they still stood between me and him, "Organ donation. We can't just clone them directly, they need to be inside host bodies. We were advancing science!" 
 
"Can't we just knock him out?" One of them questioned, clearly annoyed with being posted to babysit a man he hated. His partner only shook his head, and he sighed.  

"I didn't mean that," I clarified, although I wanted to ask him so much more, "I was talking about Sector 7 being a subject colony.

He didn't answer at first, instead he just took a look around the place – the glorified solid tents his colleagues had made, simply for them to have been killed as these clones took over. He didn't want to answer, I knew that much, but he pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.  

"They're all subject colonies. Governed by the people, all they know is that we run tests out here, not the existence of other Sectors. You already know each structure – each dome – can artificially create any sort of weather when you regulate the temperature and humidity, well each Sector has its own unique climate. Wanna learn something interesting? Sector 2, for example, has a permanently tropical climate, while Sector 13 sees nothing but snow." 

"Why? What's the point?" 

"The point? We're testing people, based on their surroundings. We've drawn up some very interesting results and abnormalities. Then there's you; the Synthetics. " 

"I thought we were just organs to you." 

"For now., but this is the really interesting part. You're part of a trial - and you're performing atrociously. All of you," he took quite a good look at all of us for good measure, "You don't know what's happening in your little home, do you? You're being recalled. Every single one of you and your kind. They're going to be used to finish what you disrupted here, and once that's done..." 

"That's enough out of you!" One of them growled, moving so close to him, shoving him so his back hit the wall. He nearly fell, only staying on one knee to steady himself. 

"What about the United Empire?" 

Nine-Nine moved casually within earshot, an over-sized shotgun resting in his hands. At least, that's what I assumed it was – the barrels were almost the size of my fists.  

"What are you going to do? Drop me right on the spot? You need me!" Layton threatened, although we all knew he wouldn't have put up much of a fight even if he tried.  

"I wouldn't flatter yourself mate, this isn't for you – it's for your buddies.  Armor-piercing rounds, the best stuff. Now, you didn't answer my question." 

"Why would I answer it?" 
 
"You've been pretty generous with the information up until now, haven't you? Now, to make this absolutely clear yes, we need you. But, we only need your pretty little mouth to do the talking, & that fancy little ID draped around your neck there. The rest, well...let's just say they're optional." 

I could hear the scientist gulp from here, taking the threat very seriously. It was only then that I realized just how tired he looked, and that his right eye was covered in light bruises. It looked like he had already been pushed down more than once.  

"I...I don't know, and that's the truth," he admitted, "I've only been granted base-level access. I was trying to fetch some information beyond that clearance when your friend there showed up and planted a gun in my back." 

"Show him a little courtesy. He's the only reason you're breathing," Nine-Nine spat, ordering his guards to take him to his cell. They each grabbed an arm of Laytons, and he was left with very little choice but to brave the downpour outside. 

"Wait! Does Bepholo mean anything to you?"  

My spontaneous question stopped him in his tracks, soaked in the rain. 

"What?" He asked, but he was herded away before he had a chance to add to that.

"A PhD for base-level access, " Nine-Nine grumbled mockingly, looking pretty disheveled himself, "You doing alright?" 

"I'm looking for One-Eight," I admitted, and he seemed to nod instantly.  

"Don't worry, the guy's safe and sound. He showed up about twenty minutes ago. Polar opposite to you, actually." 

"He didn't mention where he was going, I was worried sick about him out there." 

"Don't worry, he's doing just fine, scampering around the place. All of this is just taking its toll on him, it's taking its toll on all of us to be honest. We're living off of ration packs we secured when we took hold of this little research facility a few weeks back, they ain't going to be around forever, either." 
 
"We need to head back," I pleaded, "as soon as possible. I need to know if my family are okay, if my friends are okay..." 

"We're moving, but it could be another 48 hours before we're fully operational. Still got a group of ours dispatched to try and fetch some lovely fuel for the monster trucks you see around you. After that, we're as good as gone." 

"Thank you," it was such a relief to finally feel like I was heading back home. It couldn’t take that long for the rest of the group to fetch what they need, could it? "Can you take me to One-Eight now?" 

"Follow me." 

It was still pouring, but he marched fully outside in the open with me shivering right behind him. My feet were beginning to get soaked – not that there was much I could do about it now – while I was being led deeper into the edge of the multicolored forest. Nine-Nine's particular quarters were identical to the other cubes dotted around here, and right alongside it was the tank from the complex. He chose to take the most impressive thing for himself, & it stood almost as tall as the structure beside it.  

"Some of our more medically-inclined took a good look at him," he continued, his shotgun still in his hands, "Down's Syndrome. I'm not sure if that rings a bell to you. Sure as hell didn't when we first saw the term in one of their databases. Meant to have been completely cured decades back. To top all of that off, they did an awful lot of damage to him in the short weeks he's been alive. Several infections from wounds that were never healed properly. That eye of his is made of glass, bastards took the other one for fun. I was in the same batch as he was, cramped in those cells. He couldn't even scream for help when they would take each of us every day, poor kid." 

It explained why he would run off to see Nine-Nine, then, and it wasn't just a simple case of sleepwalking.  

"It was One-One who made the first move back then, you've seen the cells for yourselves. Hell, you've only seen about a tenth of that prison, but all it took was one power shortage, one generator of theirs to go kaputt, and the doors' locking procedures were cut out. She was in the same batch as One-Eight and myself, as well. She took him along with her – knowing that he would be the most vulnerable out of all of us, I bet – while I rallied up more of my own group, trying to take as many of them as I could outta there. But you remind me of her in a way – you look out for the guys in crisis. I haven't seen enough of that in my life." 

We climbed the steps to his hammock, and there was One-Eight, staring at a book in puzzlement. The pages were tattered and torn, but his good eye was darting from word to word, transfixed.  

I realized that that may have been the first book he had ever read in his life. That really emphasized things for me.  

"Thank god you're alright!" I cried out, slouching beside him, "Please don't disappear without letting me know, alright?" 

He didn't pay attention to me in the slightest, still obsessed with the book. I tried taking a closer look at it, but realized that almost all of the words were smudged out, soaked in the rain. Still, it didn't stop him from trying. I wasn't going to be moving him from here tonight, at least he was in the best possible hands.  

"You stay here, I'll come get you in the morning, is that okay?" 

He took a good look at me then, and I saw that usual thumbs-up which meant he had understood me. I returned the gesture, and he was completely oblivious towards me again. It was around that time when I realized that my eyes were getting pretty heavy. I needed to fetch some sleep for myself now that I knew he was going to be okay, but that still left that dream...that dream felt a little too real for me, like it was almost a memory.  

I hopped back down towards the ground, grimacing when my feet touched what was turning into soft mud, hopping from compartment to compartment. By the time I had actually made it back to my own hammock I was shivering, my feet almost entirely numb. I wrapped myself in the blankets I was given, lying on the hammock & trying not to disturb anybody else who were sleeping around me. I could feel the plan kicking into motion even before I went back to sleep again, lying on my side & watching the rain as I drifted away.  
 
Tomorrow, we were going to head back to my home.  

*

Somebody grabbed me, waking me up.  

I was so surprised I almost flipped over my hammock, forgetting that I was sharing this place with a few other roommates. The girl who gave me that heart attack just stared at me, fully-armored save for her visor, a face I couldn't recognize even from back home, completely bald.  

"We're leaving. Pack your stuff, hurry up." 

How about 'Good Morning' next time? 

I didn't even have time to make it out of my blankets before she disappeared, neglecting to using the ladder and instead leaping to the ground like it was nothing. She strolled away before I could ask her anything. I took a good look around me, realizing everybody else had already left, absolutely nothing left behind. I could hear the thrum of an engine somewhere to my right, and that could only mean that we were beginning to leave. All of us.  

She wasn't joking around.

I put on what little armor plating I had at my disposal, making use of a shard of glass left behind, the closest thing to a vanity mirror that somebody had used until now. I took a good long look at it, my skin dirty from days of running and hiding and falling, and the face I saw didn't seem to belong to me anymore. In fact, the first person I saw in the reflection was One-Eight. The eyes were the same, and so were the freckles on our skin. I didn't know why this was still so surprising to me now, but I shook my head to get the comparison out of my head. Instead, I made a mental note to round up both him and Four-Seven. Neither of them were ready for this, and I needed to take care of them.  

But then I realized, as I climbed down the ladder itself and into the sunny morning, that I wasn't ready for this, either.  

Everything was moving, more than a dozen people taking apart their sleeping structures, piece by piece. SUVs were grumbling, loading up equipment and supplies, while the tank trudged along slowly from the cover of that tree. I could still feel the rain in my shoes, soaking my feet from the night before, but at the same time that sun was really starting to bare down on all of us. I found myself sweating in the short time I moved towards Nine-Nine's sleeping quarters. One-Eight was exactly where I left him, but he was being flanked by people left and right, and he seemed unsure of what he was doing, shuffling awkwardly. When I walked right up to him, I could hear him murmur slightly, unsure.  

"Hey, I'm here!" 

He smiled then, even before he turned to look at where my voice had come from. He awarded me another thumbs-up, patting the side of his right leg - and the sidearm that was carried there. I didn't need much to realize what he was saying; he was fully aware of what was happening, and he was more prepared than I thought.  

A lot more prepared than I was.  

He shuffled alongside me when I moved towards Four-Seven's quarters, Aaron's copy being looked after by several of the others. He was fully dressed, a line of cloth draped around his eyes and a cup in his hands. He was drinking from it slowly when we approached him.  

"How are you feeling?" I asked, a little bit louder than normal so that he could hear me. He picked up on me easily enough, taking another sip of his drink before he had a chance to speak.  

"Could be worse. What are we going to do? Why is everybody moving?" 

"We're heading back home, back to my home," I explained, but it didn't seem to register with him. His head kept darting to every new sound he picked up on. For somebody who couldn't see the world around him, and who was held in captivity for his entire life, Four-Seven was hit with a whole lot of new information. He couldn't even see the beautiful place we were in, the trees with leaves that sparkled in every color of the rainbow, or their roots which arched out of the ground.  He also couldn't see the soldiers escorting everybody else outside, the preparation and determination in their faces. 

"I'm coming with you," he stated, standing up, "it's the least I can do after you saved me back there." 

"You can't fight," I reminded him, "we need to make sure you'll be okay." 

"I want to fight." 

I wanted him by my side, but I could see the anger coming from him. He looked damaged beyond repair because of people like Layton, I knew he wanted revenge. I knew he was mad... 

"You still there?" He muttered, but by then several guys roughly my age surrounded him, placing each piece of armor onto his underlying suit, assuring him that he would get his chance to fight. I left them to it, hoping for...well I wasn't really sure what I was hoping for. Hoping that everybody I knew would be okay, that everybody I knew here would make it unscathed, but that wasn't going to be the reality, was it? Even if we did manage to take over Sector 7 by force, how long until reinforcements from the others would start coming in? It wasn't like we were going to be simply left alone.  

Speaking of the Scientist, I found him being escorted to his own vehicle, at gunpoint. He was ushered into the passenger seat while five or six of them climbed into the back, followed shortly by the main driver. I noticed several different versions of the same person almost everywhere I went now, like one of them were in many different places at once. Of course none of them looked the exact same – each of them had their own scars, bruises and deformities to speak of – but it was disorientating. It also hid the fact that there were quite a lot of us now, I was guessing more than a hundred of them.  

But I needed to stop thinking about that. I needed to get into the vehicle with Layton.  

One-Eight was still by my side, but I turned back towards Four-Seven, almost grabbing him by the arm once they were finished plating him in armor. He didn't struggle this time round, allowing me to escort the both of them towards Layton's truck, peering into the back of it.  

"Excuse me, can we take this one?" 

They simply looked at me. I recognized the girl from earlier, narrowing her eyes when she heard me.  

"All full," somebody in the very back responded, "plenty of wheels to go around." 

"I need to talk to the Scientist." 

"You mean that deranged little prick up-front?" She asked then, a heavy accent that I couldn't quite place, "We're here to make sure he makes it to the Sector, and not wander somewhere far yonder. No offense, but we don't need a blind guy and a boy with a case of the Down's, thanks." 

"Zero-Eight-Six, you want to repeat that again?" 

I was going to have to get used to the fact that Nine-Nine enjoyed sneaking up on me from nowhere, because there he was again, his visor reflecting my face right back at me. Her face seemed to turn pale when she saw him, her mouth wide open.  

"N-no, you don't understand, I just -" 

"I understood what you said just fine, now get off the truck. Three of you, go ahead and follow her, these fellows and I are taking your place." 

"But what about the tank?" She argued, her cheeks now starting to turn a bright shade of red.  

"Taken care of, now get lost. Make sure I never hear you talk about our own like that again, you'll turn out just as bad as the man whose sitting in front of you." 

She glared at me, great big eyes which burned into me, and she unwillingly got out of her spot along with everybody else on her side of the vehicle. She brushed against me as she made her way by me, forced to find some other set of wheels to climb into.  

"Ungrateful," Nine-Nine muttered, before he took her spot inside. I made sure Four-Seven was escorted inside before I climbed aboard, One-Eight right behind me. The seats were hollow, we weren't going to have a comfortable time on our way there, but we didn't have a comfortable time making it here, either. The only thing that mattered was that we're still alive, and we had to make sure Hayley, Aaron, and the rest of the synthetics back home were alright, as well.  

"What's happening?" Four-Seven called out, his hands buried into the seat alongside him, clawing at it with his fingers, "Why aren't we moving?" 

"Gathering the last of our supplies, we'll be gone in no time. Besides, it's going to be an awful long journey back there, and nobody knows what we're going to meet once we make it inside. You need a bucket?" 

Nine-Nine was in a fine mood today, the most optimistic out of all of us. I failed to see the optimistic side of our situation.  

"I'll pass," was the only answer he got.  

Layton sat in the front, sealed off only by a pane of glass. We could hear all of his moaning and groaning on the other side of it. He was clutching his arm, claiming that the fall from last night had given him a bruise. I almost laughed at just how stupid that sounded, compared to the people he was surrounded by. Our driver simply told him to shut up. It didn’t work.  

The rear hatch of our truck was sealed up, and we were the first to move. I began to place lean forward, ready to overcome what was going to be a nausea-inducing journey. Almost immediately we were greeted with small bumps as our SUV burst through roots and holes in the ground, but we were finally on our way.  

For the first hour, everything went okay. One-Eight had his good arm wrapped around me pretty soon after we left, though I couldn't tell if it was because he was scared or if he relied on me to keep him balanced. Four-Seven gritted his teeth, clearly uncomfortable, but managing just fine otherwise. It was clear that everybody else aboard were pissed with what had happened, and it was only because Nine-Nine was here at all that they kept quiet. The sky was beautiful outside through the few narrow slits I was able to look through, mountains clearly visible when the forest gave us a gap big enough to look through them. How long had it been now since I left my home? Four days? Five? I wasn't keeping count, but it felt like a lifetime now. I felt like a completely different person. I fired a gun, I killed people... 

I definitely wasn't Ian Kenzie now.  

My stomach growled, which was actually a good thing right about now; there wasn't anything to throw up if this ride got particularly tough. The SUV was a lot tougher than the metal we arrived in, effortlessly breaking through anything that stood in our way, climbing up small-scale hills like they were nothing. Unfortunately, it really did come to that, and when we started climbing, I could only see the trees stretching above us in the windscreen. The next moment, we were rushing back down to level ground again, shaking so violently that I almost fell out of my seat.  

I could hear Layton moan in annoyance as well, though that actually made me feel a little bit better.  

Fifteen colonies, that's how many there were. He also spoke about testing people, but for what? What were they testing them for? Then there were the clones – us. Were we part of the same trials they faced? If we were only going to be used for vital organs, then why allow me and my friends to live our lives like everybody else? It didn't make sense, not just yet, but it still hurt my brain as I tried to make a finished puzzle with only a few of the pieces. I wanted to talk to the man on the other side of the glass, but we were traveling so violently I couldn't even open my mouth without doubling over from the urge to vomit.  

Whatever I needed to know, it was the General who had the information. It wasn't enough to just take back my home from his grubby hands – we needed to make sure we captured him alive, as well. There were so many things that could go wrong, what if he was killed, and nobody else could tell us about this? I couldn't really see a best-case scenario in all of this, it felt like we were driving to our deaths.  

But I was still here, and I wanted to be here.  

We eventually hit more level ground, but the trees grew closer together, making the drive a lot more twisty as we tried to meander around them. The driver seemed to take it all in his stride, although his arms were swinging wildly from left to right, trying to counteract the weight of the SUV itself. I could hear everybody else behind us, but what about the tank? Was it a part of the convey, how could it possibly cope with the forest, plough right through it? Somehow I didn't think even a machine as heavy as that could do that without seriously slowing things down. When I took a look outside it was nowhere to be seen, although six or seven more vehicles like ours were right alongside us. It must have taken a different, less direct path. We were going to have to wait for it, it didn't take a genius to figure that one out.  

One-One seemed to react to something, although I couldn't hear anything other than the sound of several engines and tires. He looked away, his visor staring off at nothing in particular, & swore.  

"Eight-Two-Three, stop this thing. We got company." 

Something struck the side of our truck, and I fell out of my seat and onto the floor. The whole vehicle seemed to tilt to one side, no longer moving. Whatever had struck us, it managed to take out the tire. Nine-Nine wasn't in the mood to wait around and do nothing, tearing the rear hatch open and dashing outside, his weapon already in hand and firing. Shots were coming his way in response, and they were coming from above.  

"Drones," one of them whispered underneath his breath, and he donned his own helmet on & took off after him. They all poured out of the truck, leaving the three of us alone with the driver and Layton. Almost immediately, one of them caught a bullet through the chest, tearing clean through the armor they were wearing like it was nothing. More bullets pinged through the rear hatch, creating holes & burying themselves into the dirt.  

We weren't going to be safe here.  

I grabbed Four-Seven and One-Eight, pulling them out of their seats, moving them outside when the rest of our group distracted whatever it was that was firing on us. I saw one of them then; an object almost as large as one of our trucks, shaped as an x and levitating seemingly on nothing at all. The chaingun at the center of the thing, however, continued to fire, and it was soon joined by two more of them, pouring down on all of us.  

I could see Nine-Nine, firing a shot or two right back at them, aiming for their weapons. He was a damn good shot, actually taking out one of them, rendering its owner useless. When the others aimed squarely for him, a few others used the distraction to fire a few salvos themselves. Only a few of them actually hit their targets, but once they did they destroyed their weapons, taking out the threat.  

Or so I thought.  

They moved so quickly that I almost missed it at first, but they suddenly darted towards us as a sort of last-ditch effort, trying to take as many of us down with them as they could. One of them turned to face us – watching me as I looked up at it in horror - and buzzed right towards our SUV. No time to think, no time to even breathe, I pulled both of them along with me, planting ourselves on the ground as Four-Seven screamed in shock, not knowing what on earth was going on.  

The drone crashed into our vehicle, and the whole thing burst into flames.  

The next thing I felt was a burning sensation, creeping all over the back of my legs and my right arm. I screamed, trying to roll on the ground but felt that something was holding me there, pinning my legs down. It was searing through my suit and onto my skin. It was excruciating, and even though several pairs of hands were able to eventually drag me away from what was wreckage from that crash, I was able to see that the damage was already done. There was no armor plating across my legs, which left only the under-layer to protect me, and it had easily been breached. When I strained myself to get a closer look, I saw that my skin was exposed, and it was already turning black. I looked around for One-Eight and Four-Seven, but they were safely by my side, with Nine-Nine taking care of them.  

"Crap," was what I heard from under his visor, before I saw two others help me to my feet, looking at the wreckage in front of us.  

" Police have confirmed that they have secured two more Synthetics from inside the Inner Circle of Oceyron at approximately 4:29am, thanks to an anonymous tip-off just a few hours earlier. The occupants of the building have been arrested and were escorted out of the building, while the Synthetics were immediately shipped to Fibrtech Industries.
 
It brings the number of those still missing down to just three, while one was seen wandering the streets just before Fibrtech issued a mass recall. A search is still ongoing." -  Reporter Usain Mohammad, speaking on 3XN News about the latest pair of Synthetics that were retrieved inside Oceyron.  

We thought Layton and our driver, Eight-Two-Three, had been killed in the blast, but it looked like he prepared for what was about to happen. They emerged from behind the cover of one particular tree, making sure the Scientist wasn't able to make a run for it. If anything, Layton was seething as he was escorted towards what little parts of the drone that were not completely destroyed.  

"Project E35B," he muttered under his breath, leaning down to inspect that particular part, "a simple reconnaissance drone, but clearly somebody thought it would be a great idea to stick such an ungainly weapon on it, it would upset its center-of-gravity, it couldn't hope to be effective if - " 

"We've seen them before," Nine-Nine cut in, "saw plenty enough of them the first time we made it out of that hellhole. They obviously found out that we managed to hack a pair or two for our own. There's going to be more of them, people, prepare for them." 

"We're down a vehicle," our driver commented, still within a whisker of Layton, ready to drop him at a moment's notice. Blood was running down his forehead, though he didn't seem too apprehensive about it. Like Nine-Nine he was also within a whisker of middle-age, his eyes surrounded by permanent bags. He looked like the kind of person who dropped you with a bullet first and asked questions later. 

"Make that two," Zero-Eight-Six – that girl from this morning – added, walking up to us, her left chest-plate blackened in soot, "Our truck's down, two tires taken out, suspension too." 

"Take all the gear and move it into anything that still has space. Tough it up folks – some of us are going walking."  

I could walk, but every step was like standing on fire. I was very lucky not to have broken bones on top of my current mess. I was only hit with tiny sparks of what once was our vehicle. If it was anything larger than that...

My skin screamed at me, begging me to stop. It wasn't long before it became a bit much for me, so I leaned up against the bark of a tree for support. Now that the fighting had stopped, everything around here seemed to carry on as before; I felt a breeze blissfully coast against my burned skin, I could hear the buzzing of insects absolutely everywhere, and water could be heard trickling somewhere nearby.  

Eventually, I could also hear the rest of our convey starting up again and moving ahead, disturbing the peace.  

Nine-Nine and Eight –Six, along with our driver and Layton, accompanied the three of us. One-Eight was quick to move up alongside me, checking up on me. For once, I was the one who leaned against him for support. He was perfectly fine with helping me along.  

"I should have been able to help..." 

Four-Seven was repeating the same thing over and over since all of that happened, his hand up against his face. He tore the cloth off, revealing the scars were his eyes once were.  

"There's nothing you could have done, son. Those things were on top of us," Nine-Nine was quick to reassure him, but it didn't do much good. While One-Eight had me wrapped around his shoulder, our leader took it upon himself to move him in the right direction.  

"We have a pair killed," Eight-Six said out of nowhere, "Should we really be crutches to these three? They're only going to slow us down." 

"Nobody is telling you to stay behind with us. You can go ahead and catch up with the rest of them if you want." 

She stayed silent after that, but it was clear she really did give that a thought or two.  

Climbing even the tiniest of hills meant a lot of excruciating effort on my part, and this place had more than enough hills to tackle. We seemed to be heading in a different direction to the way we came, planting ourselves deep in the forest, growing more dense by the minute. There was no way a car of any kind was going to brush through here, which meant we were taking a different path to the main convoy. It was a smart plan – if any of those things were still out there, those closely-packed branches were going to hide us from them.  

That was, until one of them hovered just ahead of us, but it simply stayed in its place, oblivious to where we were. Nine-Nine took advantage, planting a single bullet and grounding it.  

"More of the buggers," he whispered in annoyance, moving closer and inspecting it, "these weren't the heavy-duty kind we found when we escaped. These cheap things must have been used to sniff us out before they brought the big guns in, wouldn't you agree, Labcoat?" 

Layton didn't respond at first, instead kneeling to inspect it himself. He held one large chunk of it in his hands, his forehead creased in lines.  

"I don't understand, they must have identified me back there...they wouldn't have opened fire on me..." 

"Looks like your croons weren't worrying too much about you," Eight-Six sneered, her voice dripping in sarcasm, "Oh well, hope you like the idea of being hunted down. It might drop you down a peg or two." 

He swore, but there wasn't much more beyond that.  

It was obvious that there were more of them about, and it wasn't unreasonable to assume that more deadly infantry would be thrown into the mix the closer we got back to my home. I didn't want to waste any more time just standing here, but my legs were so damn sore, and they weren't letting up. While the rest of us kept moving, I was finding it harder and harder to keep up with them, to the point that I was holding One-Eight behind as well. Of course he said nothing about it, but he whimpered just as the rest of them began pulling away from us.  

"Hang on, I need a minute!" 

I didn't want to cry out like that, but it was really getting too much for me. I sat down on the nearest curved root I could find – there were so many of them -  sighing when the weight was lifted off of my feet. Eight-Six was clearly very annoyed, and this time even Nine-Nine was starting to feel a little agitated, even through his visor. You could see it in the way he ever-so-slightly shook his head, crossing his hands, looking around just in case some other surprises wanted to pop out. He spoke to nobody in particular – probably informing the rest of the group of where we were and when we would re-unite with them – but he moved towards me moments later.  

"I don't want to be the bad guy here, really I don't. We don't have any way of treating the burns you got, all our kit got burned to a crisp, so will you do me a favor? Can you dig down for me? You can do that, right?" 

My legs certainly didn't think so. I knew that if I kept moving, I would collapse. This was going to take weeks of burn therapy to even partially heal my damaged calves, but then it suddenly dawned on me that the person I was talking to had been through so much worse. If they could still hang on even after all their abuse, then so could I.  

I just nodded, but I was already on my feet, praying that they would hold until I managed to get some sort of cream that would at least alleviate the pain. He nodded in appreciation, but turned his back on me almost immediately after, continuing on through the forest. We all followed him, and I made a pretty conscious effort to keep up this time. It was an absolute miracle that neither of my legs were broken. Another hill, something so steep that it even blocked out the daylight above us, but it was something we were going to have to climb. The three of us were escorted up by Eight-Six and Nine-Nine, though she looked like she would love nothing more than to leave us behind. Even taking into account the hell they endured, I still couldn't understand why she hated me so much, even when I just met her this morning.  

That thought would have to wait, because another pair of those drones were buzzing through the trees, moving out of cover. This time, they had a pretty good idea with where we were,  and they opened fire.  

One-Eight had me, helping me to move out of the way. This time I decided that I should be a little more useful, taking out my weapon and aiming it at the nearest flying object as the rest of them tried to distract them. Instead of just recklessly shooting, I tried to take my time with it, waiting until it moved closer before I sent two bullets sailing. One of them missed; the other struck one of its 'wings', sending it off-balance. It spun about, desperately trying to stay in the air, but it was useless.  

Its gun didn't stop firing, however.  

We ducked, hiding behind a tree. I could hear the bullets embedding themselves into the bark that was the only thing separating us from them. It only lasted a few seconds, but it distracted us enough for the other to escape, disappearing behind the forest and using the cover available to it just as much as we were. I got back to my feet, trying my best to ignore my calves, and fed another cartridge of ammo into my gun. I was still pretty slow at doing it, and the damn thing wouldn't slide in properly the first time, but I was getting better both at using it and reloading it.  

"Thanks!" I whispered to One-Eight, but he answered simply by staring at me, probably waiting for me to make a gesture he could recognize. We didn't have time for that, unfortunately, so he helped me walk towards the rest of them. It suddenly dawned on me that in the midst of this little firefight, I had completely forgotten about Four-Seven and where he was, but the others had him well and truly looked after. 

Layton, for a lack of a better word, was pissed off.  

"They know where we are now, you know that right? Do you realize you're going to be killed? Every single one of you?" 

Eight-Six responded to that simply by curling her hand into a fist and sending it straight towards his stomach, doubling him over.   

"We go down, you go down with us. Simple as." 

He coughed and spluttered, but he got back up, holding onto his waist for dear life. There was panic in his eyes, and he back-stepped just a bit from her. I couldn't blame him; she acted like a complete animal.  

"He's got a point, they got a pretty good look at us," Nine-Nine admitted, returning with the entire drone in his hands, its weapon shorn off. The camera was still working, beeping and flashing in his hands. It kept struggling as it attempted to take flight again, but it sustained too much damage, "I bet they're getting a real good look at us right now, aren't you?" 

He stared into the lens itself, knowing that there was somebody on the other side who was getting a pretty good feed of us. All of a sudden, those series of lights stopped, and the machine finished struggling.  

"I think the General's done playing games," he added, tossing it aside like it was nothing but trash, "and to be honest, so am I." 

* 

My legs were in absolute agony.  

Every step felt like the first time that burning wreckage crashed into me just a few hours beforehand, and even though we stopped by a river and waited while I dipped my feet into them, it only helped right up until I had to take them out again. One-Eight was my crutch, and didn't seem to mind looking after me at all. Four-Seven was to my other side, a great big lump of wood in his hands. He moved it in front of him, avoiding everything it touched. He was moving at a pretty good pace considering that he couldn't see a thing. The other four were ahead of us, and the only person who made a sound at all was Layton. Apparently he was still hungry, and he was still nursing the wound he was inflicted with.  

"Our convoy's just up ahead, they're making camp as we speak." 

Nine-Nine's announcement did little to help my mood, or my pain. I only hoped they had some pretty strong stuff in the back of a truck somewhere. I sorely needed it.  

Pretty soon, the hills and trees gave way to some semi-level ground, another miniature plain inside the forest. It wasn't much, but you could at least see where anyone was coming from before they tried to kill you. Pretty soon all we had to do was follow the carnage of broken drones, tattered messes on the ground, almost like the story I read when I was younger. Breadcrumbs were different to metal belonging to a contraption hell-bent on murdering you, but the sentiment was the same. I saw the same pop-up metal houses that we slept in the night before, and they were being put up remarkably quickly. The panels fit together like jigsaw pieces, it was remarkably easy to build. Hammocks were already being brought from several trucks to refurbish the few already fully-built, while the rest would easily be built before dusk. Nine-Nine casually strolled to one of them involved with making a particular compartment, informing them that our little group was taking custody of it for the night. They didn't seem to mind, moving somewhere else to where they were needed. I was escorted until I was out of the sun and underneath the shade, and I was finally allowed the chance to lie down, taking the weight off of my much-abused injuries. The man who drove us seemed to disappear for a few minutes, but came back with an entirely-new under-body suit.  

"A replacement for you," he stated, the first thing I heard him say. I was still trying to recognize him, now that I had the time to try and pin his face to somebody I may know back home. I gave up right after I thanked him.  

"You're going to need more pieces for that," Nine-Nine added, inspecting his shotgun absentmindedly, "lucky for you quite a few volunteers were found by our group en route to here, they're not going to need them anymore." 

"More soldiers?" 

"Yep, and they're not playing around anymore. These panels might be invisible to those drones' infrared and thermal vision, but the naked eye can make them out just fine. We're going to have to be on constant watch tonight." 

He ordered the three of us to get some rest, while Eight-Six wasted no time grabbing Layton by the arm, escorting him away while the other two followed her. I decided that I was going to have to try and get myself out of my damaged suit, so I tried peeling off the layer that was around my legs. It strung, and I slowly realized that the suit may have melted into my skin just around the edges. I couldn't bare the discomfort.  

Come on, they've all been through hell, and the most they're asking of you is to take off your pants! 

"Hey, how are you holding up?" Four-Seven asked me, clearly aware of the small little cries I kept giving out every time I tried peeling the suit off of me, "Anything I can do to help?" 

"I don't think so, but I appreciate it."

I tried peeling the fabric off of my skin, but after a good ten minutes I finally gave up, asking him if he could grab the very end of the fabric around my legs and help in pulling them off. To his credit he tried his best, and I assured him to keep doing it no matter how loudly I yelled.  

I yelled pretty loudly by the time they were finally ripped off.  

Now that I had time to actually inspect my legs, I turned pale when I saw the actual burns themselves. They were horrifying, and the edges had been peeled off, exposing even more raw skin underneath it. The pain was throbbing, constant. I tried distracting myself by getting rid of the top layer of my suit, while I decided that the tattered and torn shirt I had worn since all of this started could probably go as well. I wanted relief from that burn more than anything else in the world, but for the moment I patched up the new suit around me before testing my tolerance for pain. I slowly draped my legs into the holes, grimacing when my sore skin scraped against the fabric. Fortunately, it was actually slightly more bearable then it was taking them off, and before I knew it I managed to put them on. I just laid on the ground after that, feeling them throb, but not as bad as it was.  
 
I was still going to need some cream, or whatever sort of magic these guys had up their sleeve, though.  

Realizing that I was going to be grounded here for a little while – even the thought of walking made my skin crawl – I decided to just head for one of those hammocks, even though my legs had almost had enough with holding me up at this point. It was a struggle just to climb at all, but it was a great feeling when I placed myself into the netting and swaying slightly from left to right. It was still bright outside, and I could still hear everybody else right at work, but for the moment... 

"Our program, Bepholo, the whole point of what we've set out to do, was to study the Human Genetic Variation of each Sector, deciding which would be the best possible group to allow into the next stage of our plan. The people who waged nuclear war all those years ago, we firmly believe that genetically, they were predispositioned to violence, an unfortunate trait that had plagued our entire history. You know as well as I do that extensive research was carried out, and we concluded that certain humans have evolved enough to discard this trait. 

I'm tired of repeating myself, but let me say it again: the point of your Synthetic Program was to allow those selected people to live longer and healthier lives, using their own DNA to create organs, supply an endless supply of blood, to create antibodies. Yet you chose to disregard all of this, even going so far as to create copies of those who do not meet our genetic criteria. 

You're hiding something from us, Bepholo. We will find out just what that is." - Unknown
 

I woke up to the sound of gunfire. 

It tore through my dream, instantly forgotten as soon as my eyes were open. They echoed in the distance, not too far, but not too close either. Almost as soon as I heard them, it stopped, but it still managed to spike my heart rate. I had somehow managed to doze off, almost forgetting about my charred calves until I moved. I could hear more rounds responding to the first salvo...followed by a muted explosion, something I could actually feel as the walls around me seemed to vibrate softly in response.  I struggled to crawl out of my hammock, and once I was finally able to stand on my own two feet I carefully dragged myself down the ladder and onto the ground. Four-Seven was nowhere to be seen. Nobody was.

Crap.

I was only wearing the body suit, which wasn't going to do much if somebody decided to fire my way. I could only assume that they managed to find us out here in the open, either by drones, or by soldiers. Once I was actually outside, I limped slowly from compartment to compartment, noticing that almost every single vehicle was missing. After a few more moments searching, I still hadn't found anybody who usually occupied our temporary structures. Eventually though, I was delighted to find Eight-Six and a few others debating over what to do next. They could hear the commotion just as well as I could. 

"Nine-Nine told us to stay here," one of them complained, but I could tell Eight-Six wasn't having any of it, scratching her shaved head in annoyance, "they'll retreat if they're up against tougher opposition."

"Are you blind? Of course they're going up against tougher opposition! You think those bastards are just gonna watch and wait for us to make it to their little dome? Doubt it. Now I'm grabbing a gun and I'm going to go, and if you want to stay behind and look after our little crutches, then - "

"Hey."

I had enough at that point, limping toward them. The rest of them looked away, or turned around to find something better to do, embarrassed. She took a good long look at me and sighed. 

"No offense. At least you can point and shoot. Your brother has an IQ of 3, and your other little friend is blind. We have a job to do, you know, and it doesn't involve babysitting."

I didn't want to answer that, because if I did I knew I would just get angry. I wasn't going to change her mind, that much was obvious. 

"I need more armor plates." I stated matter-of-factly, taking a look up into the night sky. It was peppered with stars, completely devoid of clouds. Even under the suit, I could feel the cold seep through my skin, though it was a welcome respite for my legs. Even now they burned, and I could feel the blisters that were going to form whether I wanted them to or not. 

"Of course you do," Eight-Six whispered, pushing through to the other end of their compartment and reaching for some spare parts. They were tossed aside carelessly on the ground, several of them dented and damaged. 

I wasn't in the position to pick and choose what I got. 

The rest of them decided to make better use of their time and began to spread out as far as they could, keeping watch over the entire camp. That just left Eight-Six and myself, though I knew enough about the armor to place it over my suit without any sort of aid. I pieced them all together as she kept watch, a rifle in her hands, trained at the night sky. We heard another shot ring out, much closer this time. 

"Where are they, anyway?" I asked, feeling the weight in my right arm disappear as I placed the final piece around my wrist, "Four-Seven and One-Eight? The Crutches?"

"Being looked after in Nine-Nine's little house, along with the Labcoat. Eight-Two-Three is watching over them...our driver, in case you're getting confused about our designations?"

"I'm fine," I lied, but she was right. The individual code-names were starting to confuse me, especially since there were so many different copies of the same person, which meant that they had their own set of digits. I've only met a small number of the people who made up this battalion, after all, "but it's not their fault, either. They didn't ask to be like that. Four-Seven never asked to be blind. Maybe you should take it down a notch."

She spun around to face me then, her weapon drawn right at me. My heart stopped. I felt a genuine dose of fear coarse through my veins. 

"I'm the one with the gun here, don't forget that!"

She smirked as soon as she was finished threatening me, hoisting the weapon upwards, allowing it to rest on her shoulder. I decided not to speak to her, fetching the most functional chest plate I could find in the wreckage of parts. The best I could do was an individual piece that was littered with bullet holes, though it fared a lot better than anything else at my disposal. 

"I'm sorry." I eventually heard in the distance, and I was pretty surprised that the girl who treated me like a liability had suddenly issued such an apology. She walked towards me, crouching down as she watched me latch the plating around my chest. 

"Don't worry about it."

"You don't understand," she insisted, "We were holed up in that place for as long as we could remember. You learn a thing or two inside those cells. If you fought back and if you were more of a hassle than what you were worth, those labcoats decided to go after somebody weaker, less of an effort. I was alive for months and they couldn't get a single organ out of me. That's the world we live in, whether you like it or not. Your pals? They're the weak link in this chain...I know you care about them, but they can lead us into danger. You see where I'm getting at here?"

"It doesn't mean you can say that about them," I retaliated, but paused for a moment after I had said it, "but I accept your apology."

She shrugged, turning back out to take a look outside. It had been quiet for an uncomfortably long period of time, and none of our group had returned. 

"Well, maybe one day I'll see where you're coming from." she finally whispered, peering through her scope as she scanned the area. 

"I hope so too."

There, an explosion!

I could see it clear as day, watching as it engulfed a series of trees just on the very edge of our camp, setting them ablaze. I still needed to slap plating onto my right leg, but it was too late for that now. Eight-Six stepped back in surprise, but kept her finger trained on the trigger, ready to go. I immediately thought of Four-Seven and One-Eight. I needed to reach them as soon as possible. 

That was when we saw the object veer over the trees themselves, larger than anything I had ever seen. 

It was a monster, an ugly mechanical thing. It made a noise which drowned out everything else, something I could feel as well as hear. It snuck up on us somehow, like it had only suddenly activated right there and then, deafening us. Like the drones we encountered in the forest, it hovered in the air, powered by inner turbines. Unlike those drones, it was equipped with floodlights that instantly blinded us, illuminating our camp with absolute ease. It was larger than the plain we were standing on, and it blocked out any sort of light above us, casting us in its deep shadow. I couldn't tell if it was manned or not. It really didn't matter, it was still capable of killing us in a heartbeat. I grabbed Eight-Six and dragged the both of us out of there, ignoring the pain in my calves. She didn't need motivation, not with that thing looming over us. 

The contraption seemed to track us, and it quickly fired. The ground underneath our feet seemed to explode as bullets dug into the earth, and Eight-Six pulled me towards the compartment housing the rest of our group. I spotted the people Eight-Six was conferring with just ten minutes ago, and they were caught out in the open. The monster shot them down without hesitation, their armor completely useless against it.  

Without warning, another shell rocketed towards it, striking one of its 'wings', coming from the other side of the forest. After a few seconds, I could see our tank emerge from view, followed by more than two dozen of our soldiers, with Nine-Nine leading the charge. Several trucks soon followed, each one full of armored synthetics, and they all opened fire. It didn't seem the least bit fazed, not even by the 50 caliber slug the tank provided. 

It returned fire. 

More than three dozen rounds dissected our heaviest vehicle, momentarily stunning it before a larger salvo struck it dead-center. The tank, along with its driver, exploded, showering the ground in pieces of metal. The walls of one of the nearby compartments collapsed under the force of it. We couldn't beat it in terms of firepower, and it looked like running was going to be our only option. Eight-Six led the way in the middle of all this chaos, and I had little choice but to follow her, rounding a turn towards our destination. I didn't want to turn my back towards the monster in the air, but it was occupied with the vehicles that were trying their best to avoid its guns. One of them detonated, exploding in a ball of fire, taking several people with it. I found One-Eight and Four-Seven, and I moved as quickly as my damn legs would allow me. I immediately helped Four-Seven to his feet, escorting him away from the structure. One-Eight wasn't far behind me, whimpering. 

"We need wheels!" Eight-Six shouted, but none of them were breaking formation to come pick us up anytime soon. They were pinned down by the behemoth's guns as it was. It wasn't looking like that was going to be a possibility. I wanted to find Nine-Nine, he would know what to do best in this situation, but there was no way of making him out in the midst of all this chaos, especially as another SUV was destroyed in an instant. It hovered overhead, moving forward until we were underneath it, sealing off any hope of escape. 

Layton and his escort moved close behind us, the Scientist absolutely horrified with what he saw. 

"You mind telling us what that damn thing is?" Eight-Six screamed, grabbing him by the jumper and dragging him closer to her bared teeth. He seemed genuinely terrified at the thing. 

"I've only seen blueprints of this, Project Leviathan. Nothing is going to penetrate that armor, we need to run!" he yelled. It launched another massive salvo, creating a crater in the ground where another vehicle once stood, and now the rest of them were breaking rank, no longer aiming at the machine in the air. 

They were running. They were following Layton's advice.

There was no other choice, so Eight-Six sprinted towards the nearest blanket of trees, and I urged everybody else to follow her. I held onto Four-Seven's shoulder and pointed him in the right direction once we managed to bury ourselves in branches and bark, away from that. It kept firing, and I was under no illusion that it was able to track us even here. I could hear its turbines spin in a horrifying wail as it moved directly over us again, blocking out what little light was left. Somebody else was still trying their luck and popping off shots on the other side of the plain, distracting it. It instead moved towards the source of that annoyance, and we took what little advantage that gave us and moved as quickly as we all could, clambering over branches and climbing over every hill that came in our way.

"How well can that thing track us?" Eight-Two-Three asked, directing his question towards Layton. I could make out the cracks in his voice, the anger underneath it. "We need to know as much about it as possible!"

"From what I've seen - and I haven't seen much - it had everything thrown at it; infra-red and thermal vision, even ultraviolet light can be detected. It's operated from the ground, but can be deployed up to three kilometers away from base. There's no touching it, you've seen what happened to your tank!"

"Why the need to build something like this?" Eight-Six interjected, peering into what little sky we could see, and we could still see it at work, creating another explosion on the other side of the forest. I was sure it managed to hit its target. 

"I don't know."

"Well we can't just stay here, either. We're sitting ducks, while they're getting massacred. We need to help them!"

"What good are we?" I added, catching her off-guard, "You're the only one that's armed, and that's not going to do much good against that." 

"There is another solution..."

The Scientist's statement hushed the rest of us, leaving only One-Eight, quietly whimpering in the background. I shuffled alongside him, making sure he was okay. 

"What might that be?" I demanded. 

"You of all people should know. Anything look familiar to you?"

I didn't know what he was talking about at first, and I wasn't in the mood for whatever sort of games he might had been playing, but as soon as I noticed it, I couldn't look away. It was still quite a distance away from us, but the light was now impossible to ignore. The clouds above it gave the same sort of glow, and that could only come from one place. 

Sector 7.

"We need to go," I whispered, absolutely driven by the thought of my family, of Hayley and Aaron, of everybody else inside. 

"I can guarantee that's where Leviathan is being controlled from, and they're not going to fire in on themselves," Layton explained to everybody else. The thought of going back right there and then was irresistible to me, but Eight-Six wasn't having any of it, breaking from us and sprinting back out towards the wreckage behind us. 

"Wait!" I cried, but it was too late. She was gone. 

Eight-Two-Three - to my surprise - began to follow her. 

"You're just going to leave us?" I cried out, watching him as he stopped in his tracks, facing us one last time. 

"You know where to go from here, you know the inside of that place better than anybody else. We're going to get what people we have left, we're going to bring them to the Sector. In the meantime, we need you to sneak inside and open the door for us. You have the Scientist, he'll be able to shut down this thing, give us a better chance of reaching you. There's no time. The absolute best of luck."

It didn't matter what I was going to say, because he was already turning around, already on his way again. His plan made some sort of sense, but we were still at least a days' hike from there, and Leviathan could kill them all before they managed to make it.  What if there was nobody left? What would One-One have done?

I knew exactly what she would have done. 

I sighed, but I knew what to do now. The rest of them looked to me, even Layton. The sky above us seemed to be growing brighter, but that could have been a trick of the light, seeing as we were underneath that machine's shadow. I could only hope there were synthetics left to help us at the end of all of this. 

"We better get going." I stated, reaching out to Four-Seven, helping both him and One-Eight along, hoping Layton would follow. There was no way I was going to be able to chase him if he wanted to make a break for it now. There was nothing stopping him. 

He followed, much to my surprise.

*

We could hear nothing but explosions for the rest of the night. 

Whatever it was chasing, it was doing a damn good job of doing it, leaving a trial of fire in its wake. If you turned around and stared at where you'd been, you could actually see the line of smoke which ushered into the morning sky. We were walking for hours, and I knew where to go. We only rested twice for the rest of the night, pausing near a stream to refill our flasks. We managed to find some berries growing out in the wild, and the only reason I knew they weren't poisonous was because they were the exact shade of color as the juice One-One first gave me when she saved me. It didn't do much to stave my hunger, but at least we weren't going to starve. We could still make out that machine in the distance. It was still launching missile after missile. It seemed to have an unlimited supply. Sooner or later it was going to have to run out, wasn't it? Every now and again, the noise it generated...stopped, and it coasted through the air before it fired up again. That was how it managed to sneak up on us without us hearing it, although Nine-Nine and the rest of his platoon had clearly spotted it beforehand. 

Four-Seven was struggling the most out of the four of us. The stick he used to help him walk snapped against a root that proved to be more stubborn than it was, and its replacement wasn't much better. As the hills grew more and more steep I was left to help him every step of the way. Even with the power-assisted armor, it was a chore. My exposed leg meant that I had to work harder to move, and that was before I felt the burns lick at my skin with every step. Still, I grunted and kept going, always thinking about my home. 

Layton was murmuring to himself, but I decided not to listen to him.

"They must have been moved inside, leaving the drones to take care of the outside resistance," I heard him mutter as we crossed yet another bend in that same stream, the only thing which caught my attention. 

"Explain."

He looked up at me then, his face flushed from the effort of walking. It was a miracle his glasses were still in one piece, considering not much else was. 

"Notice how we're the only ones left out here, how we've only encountered machines over the past two days? He must have ordered every Helmsmen under his command inside the Sector, perhaps to put down any sort of rebellion inside."

"Why the sudden interest?" I continued, holding onto Four-Seven's hand as I helped him up against a particularly-steep incline, holding onto a nearby branch for support. "I don't remember you being so nice a few days back."

"That's because a few days back, I didn't think my own colleagues would open fire on me, but clearly I was wrong," he explained, hopping towards me, slouching down to catch his breath, "I'm going to make sure they pay for that."

"So that's why you hadn't run away from us yet."

"Where would I run to? Unfortunately for me, your plan seems to be the best chance at my survival, so I really have no choice."

"Great to see you thinking about others for a change," I answered dryly, looking up at the last hill we needed to climb before we made it back to Oceyron again; the same sharp incline I was thrown into, kick-starting this entire process. I was definitely in the same stretch of that forest now, the same mountains in the background, the same shade of leaves, the same vines which seemed specific to this small area. 

"Quick, get down!" The Scientist whispered, and I did what I was told in the heat of the moment. Everybody else crouched beside me, and that was when we saw the drone flying overhead, its singular eye scanning everything. It hovered so close to us I could hear it cut through the air, but it was gone again just as quickly as it arrived. 

More of them...

We kept moving, and none of us really said a word after that. I asked Four-Seven and One-Eight how they were holding up, but didn't really get a response from either of them. They were exhausted, we all were. We marched out of the cover of the trees and peered out into the plain itself, taking a good look at what was around us. 

There were plumes of smoke dotted on the horizon, not just where we were but several miles away from us. I couldn't make anything else out that could try to kill us, but I wasn't going to take any sort of chance. We took a break, hiding in the cover of vines while we ate more of our dwindling food supply. One-Eight stared at something, his one good eye glassed over, distracted. He lost so much, he lost One-One and he might have just lost Nine-Nine, as well. All in the space of days. I still couldn't make out what he thought of all of this. I hoped that once all of this was over, somebody could examine him, try and figure out some small way of helping him somehow. It could very well have been Down's Syndrome, and I had never even heard of something like that, but if it was something that could be fixed, I wanted to make sure it would. 

"You think they made it? The guys they were trying to save, I mean," Four-Seven muttered quietly, tying the cloth around his face a little tighter to stop it from falling off. "I don't know what it looked like, but it sounded terrible."

"I'm sure they did, we just need to make sure we make it inside," I replied, trying to catch any sort of expression that might give away how he felt, "I know every square inch of that place. My Dad works there, controls everything. We just have to go inside, we'll figure everything out once we do."

"You think they're still alive?"

His question disarmed me. 

"Of course they are."

He said nothing else after that. I was almost entirely sure that he didn't believe me. 

We decided to stay right on the edge of the forest itself; close enough so that we could see what was going on outside, but deep enough that we could hide if anything spotted us. After a few hours, I could see dirt tracks in the ground, well-worn. It was where the Helmsmen would patrol on a regular basis, so I ordered everybody deeper inside the line of trees, keeping well out of their path. 

Until I decided on another course of action, though it involved an element of risk. 

We found the most densely-packed line of vegetation available right next to those dirt tracks, and hid inside it, peering through only when we heard something even slightly resembling machinery. We weren't possibly armed enough to make it inside, so we needed to sneak inside the city instead. I calmed myself down and told myself that I had already managed to sneak inside a truck once before. It didn't stop the voice inside my head from telling me that it was a stupid idea, though. 

It was. 

If Layton's theory was correct - that the Helmsmen were all ordered inside and that they left drones and machines to continue the fighting out here - than this entire plan would be for nothing. I kept crouching until my already-burned calves were on fire, but it kept me awake, kept me alert. I was almost completely over the pain those burns gave me now, although that hadn't subsided in the slightest. One-Eight moaned lightly, but I assured him that everything would be okay. 

There, at the other end of the forest...I could hear an engine. It was unmistakable, and there seemed to be only one of them. I nudged at Layton, grabbing his attention. The man's forehead was dripping in sweat, he was absolutely terrified. 

"We need you to go out there, distract them," I explained. 

"W-What?"

"There's no time, just go!"

I pushed him out. The man almost stumbled to the dirt, but he picked himself up and regained his composure just as the vehicle came into view, creating thick plumes of dust in its wake. As soon as it caught sight of the Scientist, it began to slow, its brakes screeching the SUV to a halt. A pair of men marched towards him, rifles in hand, fully armored. They weren't messing around. 

"State your identity and your reason for neglecting orders to rendezvous inside Oceyron." One of them spoke, his voice gravelly, while the other was already searching him, reaching for his Identification Card strapped around his neck. We were going to have to act fast, I had a feeling they weren't going to pay too kindly to him. 

"Thank god you're here! I just escaped those bastard's clutches!" He cried, almost too authentic, "Layton Morris, I was stationed inside -"

He never had a chance to finish what he was saying, because I was already in the middle of them, putting every last bit of energy into knocking one of them clean off their feet. I felt my shoulder recoil in pain as it brushed off against the Helmsmen's own armor, but it succeeded in kicking his rifle out of his hands, and into my own. The second soldier was stunned, but only for a split-second before his training kicked in, his own rifle read to fire. 

That was when Layton tackled him, only to be struck with the butt of that man's rifle, shattering his glasses and striking him right in the middle of his nose. I took advantage of that distraction, firing one single round right into the base of his unprotected head. 

The Helmsmen collapsed onto the ground, dead. 

I wasn't finished just yet, pointing my stolen weapon right at the man I tackled, pressing it against his forehead. 

"Don't you dare move, or you'll end up like your friend!"

"Okay okay! I have a wife, I have children..."he sounded terrified, and with good reason. His statement almost took me off-guard, however. It made me realize that not all of these people were cold-blooded monsters. Most of them had families. I thought of the soldier I just killed, thought about his wife, his children...

You can think about that later! 

"You're going to do exactly what we say, or you're going to go down along with us, understand?" I threatened, doing my best impression of Nine-Nine, and the man complied very willingly. I helped Layton back to his feet, realizing with horror that blood was dripping down his nose, the bridge clearly broken. He waved me off, assuring me that he was fine as he reached for his broken glasses. 

"Patch him up!" I ordered, almost barking at that terrified man as he did exactly what I asked him to do, moving to the back of the truck and reaching for medical supplies. Our Scientist thanked him, wiping away most of the blood. I gestured at One-Eight and Four-Seven, telling them it was okay to come out. Without pointing the weapon away from our captive, I moved backwards, grabbing both of them and helping them towards the actual vehicle itself. I could see the remaining Helmsmen dart his eye down towards the rifle his buddy left on the ground, but I growled at him, daring him to try. 

He didn't. 

It wouldn't be long before another patrol would come around, so we hid the body of his colleague in the undergrowth - thought there was nothing we could do about the blood - and rallied ourselves in the SUV. The Scientist took his place inside the passenger seat while our prisoner drove. 

"Continue your patrol, and arrive back at Sector 7 as you normally would," I instructed as calmly as I could, prodding his shoulder with the tip of the gun for emphasis. He nodded, the engine burst into life again, and we were already on our way. The path was comparatively flat, and we moved quickly, covering ground far quicker than we had on foot. I started to feel a growing sense of guilt for keeping him hostage, but I told myself not to think about it until after all of this was over. 

"If it helps, I know nothing," our driver pleaded under his breath, adding further to the guilt I was meant to ignore. He sounded like he genuinely meant it. 

"Get us inside, drop us off somewhere away from prying eyes, and you get to go home to your family."

He said nothing after that. 

Eventually we turned around, the sun blinding us, and we were finally headed in the right direction. The dome was now so tantalizingly close, but it didn't mean much if we were discovered at a checkpoint. The best we could do then was to take this bastard along with us, but I doubted I could do that even then. Instead, I thought about everybody else I knew and loved. Three of us were clambering in the back, hidden behind a trove of objects and inside the cavernous boot, while Layton would continue to play his escaped prisoner act. I didn't know how strict a checkpoint would be now, but it was too late to do anything about that now. I made my choice, I was just going to have to live with it. 

We moved more cautiously now, slowing as we soon lined up against other vehicles from other patrols. Hidden underneath everything, I couldn't make out exactly what was going on, but I could see the enormous wall of concrete and metal when we crawled towards it, eventually dominating my entire view. Four-Seven was right alongside me, and he was shaking. He was terrified. 

I soon realized that I was, too. 

I could see them, two officers in full armor, their visors masking their expressions. They took one look at the SUV's occupants and ordered us to halt. 

"Where did you find him?" They demanded, not even giving our driver the chance to begin to say something.

"I...I found him down by the forest. He killed Reilly..."

They didn't question how an unarmed man managed to kill a fully-armored and trained soldier, instead clasping him by the shoulder. 

"Good work! The General was looking for him. Get inside as quickly as you can and dump him off at Fibrtech, you got that?"

"Y...Yes sir!"

"Oh, and no offense, but Reilly was an absolute dick," they added, laughing amongst themselves, "but remember, you were decontaminated for 24 hours. We don't need the folks in here to know about the outside."

They waved him forward, allowing him to pass. To his credit, our escort carried on, and we watched as we moved from the thickness of the outside wall, waiting patiently until we emerged on the other side.

I couldn't believe it. We were back inside Oceyron. We were back inside Sector 7. We were back inside my home.  

Then I took a good long look at the city itself, and my sudden joy evaporated in an instant...

"The final Synthetics have been discovered and brought to Fibrtech Industries in the late hours of yesterday evening, General Lough confirmed today in a short address. It comes as several thousand people protested on the streets in opposition to a move made by the Helmsmen to begin the process of moving them from their homes. General Lough cited radiation leaks from the outside as the primary reason for this procedure, yet members of the public are becoming increasingly frustrated at the lack of rations, strong military presence, and a curfew that many have deemed 'unnecessary'.  

Several of those protests were met with water cannon, with dozens of those involved arrested." - Journalist Katelyn Ericsson writing for The Oceyron Digest, detailing the increasing unrest of the general public, and the actions taken by General Lough under Martial Law. It would be the final issue before the long-running publication was closed indefinitely. 

It was another Leviathan, hovering over the tallest skyscrapers in the center of the city. Even in the middle of the day its floodlights were still shining down on the streets, hundreds of smaller drones circling it. I couldn't see much from where I was hiding, but that was telling enough to make my heart sink. 

How did they manage to bring something that big in here, anyway? 

We kept ourselves hidden, and our driver dutifully kept his hands on the wheel, moving deeper into the dome while I recognized some of what past us. We never really dared get this close to the walls before, when I was still dreaming of a way to get out. Too many cameras that could spot you well in advance, and too many Helmsmen who would have had no problem stopping you in your tracks. Even so, it only took us a couple of minutes before we came up to the outer ring of residential houses, having been abandoned on account of the Mayor's orders, back when he told us that there was an outside threat that could endanger us all. 

I found out what he was referring to; us. 

It was clear the bastard knew what was going on outside the walls, and he knew what they were doing out there as well. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, but it still made my blood boil just thinking about it. 

We suddenly turned an unexpected corner, and it made me press the rifle against his shoulder, surprised. 

"There's checkpoints all over Oceyron," our driver explained, still terrified, "I'm going to have to let you go here, where there's nobody around."

It made a certain amount of sense, but I was hoping that he was leading us away from a checkpoint, not towards it. It daunted me just how much faith I placed in him, knowing that he could turn around and offer us up at any minute. Same with Layton, but I was starting to trust him a little bit more, despite myself. I took a deep breath, remembering that we were fortunate to make it back inside the Sector at all. I was going to have to take what little luck we had and make a run for it. My eyes never left that monster up in the air. There was no question as to who was operating it. 

"What happened here?" I asked, and it wasn't as forced & angry as I was before. I no longer thought of him as our hostage. 

"Filtyr is gone, removed from office. Our General is in charge now, but he declared all of your kind unethical. There's been riots...we had to put them down."

"What do you mean unethical?"

"He...he said the synthetic program was never meant to have been commissioned. They're taking every single clone, I...I don't know what they're going to do to them!"

"I know exactly what they're going to do to them," I growled, and I ordered him to stop his SUV, prodding his back with the tip of the rifle for good measure. He complied, and I removed the covers over us, helping Four-Seven and One-Eight outside.

"It's not just you, either. The General is moving everybody out of their homes. I don't know what's happening, they look like they're being taken somewhere...it looks like they're being evacuated."

I didn't expect that. That Leviathan hanging up in the air suddenly felt a lot more dangerous. Almost as soon as our Labcoat left the vehicle, it suddenly darted in a different direction, rushing down the nearest stretch of tarmac. 

He was going to tell everybody what had happened. I didn't blame him, if I was being perfectly honest, but there wasn't much we were able to do about it now. We were going to be discovered sooner rather than later, anyway. We were dumped right in the middle of these abandoned buildings, so at least we had cover. I was vaguely aware with what roads to take from here, so I began moving even though I didn't know where I was heading towards just yet. Everybody else followed me, moving inside and trying to find the first proper food we'd have all day. I chose one particular door at random, tackling it and feeling the wood splinter with ease. The kitchen I found myself in was dissected, chairs turned over, paint peeling from the walls, but there was at least some scraps of meat left in the fridge. We opened every sort of cupboard in the place, fetching some cereal and a few other little items which would have to do.

"They seemed to be pretty interested in you," I muttered, watching Layton struggle with his broken glasses. His nose was beginning to bruise already, "still sure you're not going to run into their open arms?"

"I'm not an idiot. I know why they want me, or how they want me. Dead."

"Welcome to our world," Four-Seven added with a dry attempt of a smirk, brushing his stick against the ground, trying his best to move along. 

More gunfire. I could never seem to get away from the noise, and it reminded me of the camp on the outside. Eight-Six and Eight-Two-Three. Were they still alive out there? Have they found a way to escape that machine that was hunting them down? I wanted to stay hopeful and optimistic about it, but...

We ate in silence, and the meat was slightly out-of-date, but my stomach growled so loudly that I just cut away the pieces that was rotting and ate the rest. I decided to look outside the opening where there was once a window in the living room, taking a good look at the rest of the neighborhood. I had no real reason to come here in the four years I was inside, seeing as nobody I particularly cared about lived here. There seemed to be smoke coming from a few other buildings, and I couldn't make out a single pane of glass anywhere. Signs were scattered on the ground, dirt and soot everywhere. 

These people weren't evacuated out of their homes. They were forced out. 

"You asked about Bepholo," Layton muttered, taking a good long look at the wreckage we were in while studying a can of tinned food cautiously, "how do you know about her?"

"I don't. A lousy datapad was the only thing that mentioned the name. I was hoping you'd know more about it than we would."

He was moving dangerously close to what were once windows, now just gaping holes where cold air came in. He tossed the can aside, letting it roll on the ground. 

"Bepholo was one of them, one of the people that hired us so we could begin their work. We know them as The Council. Me? I was originally from Sector 6 when they approached me one day, offering me an opportunity that they said would bring science back to the same strength it had before the Third World War," he started to turn around so he could take a good long look at me then. His face wasn't a pretty sight after all that had happened, but his eyes were locked onto mine, "Bepholo was the reason why I went back into that complex after the Helmsmen evacuated us, because all we knew was that she was removed from The Council. I wanted to find out why."

"It could be related to us," I answered, fetching the empty aluminum tin from One-Eight's hands, reaching for another scrap of food for him, "at least, One-One thought so."

We didn't have time to keep talking, because there was something outside, I grabbed Four-Seven and forced him to crouch along with the rest of us, watching a single reconnaissance drone hum outside. It was a much smaller version of those we had seen on the outside. It didn't seem to have any sort of weapon either, but the camera at the front was dangerous enough. It hovered in place for a few more seconds, like it was waiting for us to pop out, before casually drifting aside and out of sight. We couldn't stay here much longer, so I helped One-Eight and Four-Seven outside while Layton followed quickly behind, nervous. 

"Where to next?" He asked, taking a look at the dome over our heads, and the enormous mechanical death-trap in the sky. It was a seriously good question, because I wanted to go to a lot of places. I wanted to go to my parents, to tell them how sorry I was for bringing all of this to them, to tell them how sorry I was for running away like that. I wanted to find Aaron, because I needed to know if my closest friend was okay. I wanted to go to Fibrtech, because I knew that was where almost all of the synthetics would be kept. People like me, people who didn't know what was happening. 

But there was also the tallest building in the entire city, the building that Leviathan seemed to be guarding most of all, That was the place my Dad worked in, the skyscraper where everything from environmental to humidity controls were kept. It was one of the few places in Oceyron I had never visited, and I knew that was where the General was going to be and where he was controlling those things. 

"I don't know," I admitted, because that complex would be the most heavily-defended building in the city right now, and simply hijacking a vehicle wasn't going to work this time around.

I helped Four-Seven along, with One-Eight shuffling not far behind us. I could easily make out a couple more of those things buzzing on the other end of this road, and if any of them noticed we were there...
I forced myself not to think about it, helping both of them, never looking back. I could feel all the emotions come flooding back to me; all the times I wanted to leave this damn place, all the stares and the jokes, all the times I told myself I wasn't Ian Kenzie. None of that seemed even remotely trivial now. I could even see my school on the other side of this Sector, still untouched compared to the rest of this place. 

My thoughts were interrupted when I saw the Leviathan turn, wailing in the background before it fired a single missile directly downwards. It detonated, I could feel the force of the impact even from here. I could see One-Eight turn pale, just as horrified as I was. He looked a lot more like me then. It was like looking in a mirror. There was still fighting, which meant that there was still hope, though it wasn't going to last much longer. We moved even quicker, bypassing the city entirely. watching out for any drones which might come our way from the city, or any soldiers who might catch us off-guard behind us. It wasn't going to be long before another patrol came our way. 

"I can hear everything," Four-Seven commented, heaving for breath after we walked for so long we lost track of time, "Tell me again how we're going to destroy something like that?"

"I'm working on it," was the only answer I could give which didn't feel like lying. 

It would be another five minutes before we noticed something out of the corner of our eye, and when I turned to face it I shot it down instantly. The single damn metal drone fell from the sky, smashing into pieces at our feet. Layton took a good long look at it, turning white. 

"They know I'm here, and I'm sure this thing got a good look..."

"Then we don't have much time." I replied. 

My Dad, he was the one who had access to Fibrtech's building inside the city itself. He was one of several workers who controlled how the dome operated inside. I needed to talk to him, I hoped and prayed that he would be at home, we were so close to my house now it actually hurt. 

More drones, a trio of them this time, and they opened fire. 

We planted ourselves behind the nearest building we could find, so I pushed the Scientist away with me as we avoided the gunfire. I fired back this time, a lot more accustomed to the recoil than I was even a few days ago, and two of them shattered mid-air, with one of them spiraling into the third and taking the contraption down with it. I rushed towards it as it struggled to get airborne again, planting my foot against its camera before it had a chance to respond. 

They definitely had a lock on us now, that's for sure. 

We trekked through what little cover was left available to us, aware that there was nothing left to hide behind. The gap between the outer circle and the inner circle was almost a mile, nothing but roads and the threat of death hanging in the air. The sun outside was already beginning to set as we moved, disarmed over how...quiet things were. No other patrols seemed to enter the dome, while there were no real patrols scouring anywhere. True, we have the occasional drone that hovered into view only seconds before I shot it down, but apart from that, nothing. I thought about the possibility that all the Helmsmen were needed to quash the rest of the resistance inside the city, but somehow I doubted that. There were hundreds of recruits, maybe even thousands.

I decided to stop thinking about it, because becoming distracted would only lead to a bullet with my name on it. We couldn't afford to slip up now.

Rather than heading towards the inner circle and moving towards the Centre itself, I instead directed all of us toward Oceyron's park, the same sort of semi-artificial trees I visited time and time again. If the General was interested in keeping the city, he wouldn't bat an eyelid to an unoccupied patch of trees and shrubs, right? 

But what if that was exactly what he was hoping we'd do? The possibility only made me feel even more afraid. He knew we were here, it was only a matter of time before he came looking. 

Four-Seven tripped, grazing his knee of the ground. He swore as I helped him up, because we had absolutely not time left to waste, and I handed him back his stick as he assured me he was fine. We only made it another few feet before he tripped again, his ankle caught on something growing on the ground. 

"I hate this!" He cried, slamming his fist against the earth. 

"We need to keep going," I pleaded with him, but he didn't seem to be having any of it, pushing me away when I tried to help him. 

"You don't understand, I'm just slowing you down! I'm just the blind idiot whose just going to get you all killed. Why don't you just leave me here?"

"Because if you stay here, you'll die." Layton responded simply, pure and simple.

"Shut up, you worked on us in your underground prison! You know the man who cut my eyes out, don't you?"

"Enough," I shouted, grabbing Four-Seven and forcing him up to his feet, supplemented by my power-assisted armor, " I understand how you're feeling. I really do, but we need to keep moving and we need to keep moving now, because if we don't stop this that man and everybody he leads will only keep doing this to us. We're just a few hundred meters from my house, I can see it from here. We're going to head over there, I'm going to convince my Dad to get us inside that building, and we're going to stop him. Together."

"You really think that's going to work?"

"It has to."

Did I even believe that this was going to work? Admittedly not, but I was hoping that whoever was left on the outside would be able to make some sort of plan in case we didn't make it out of here.I had no idea what I was doing, only that we couldn't just stand here doing nothing. It was starting to get pretty dark by the time we finally snuck through that miniature forest - much less impressive compared to what was out on the outside - and before long the entire wall would become immersed in light.

Except it didn't, even when it became so dark we could barely make out anything ahead of us. That never happened before, and it really emphasized the Leviathan in the background, the only thing which lit up anything at all. 

"How much further?" The Scientist grumbled, annoyed. I still didn't pity him. 

"There," I replied, pointing at the familiar row of houses which still seemed to be intact on the other side of the plain, although not a single light was switched on, the entire cul-de-sac deserted. For a second I thought about the possibility of my parents being forcibly removed, but not a single thing had been scratched or broken when we finally made it to my neighborhood. Even our family car was parked on the kerb, spotless even in what little light was left above our heads. 

"This is the place. Follow me, but be careful, they're going to be shocked."

I didn't know what my parents were going to think of One-Eight, a more corrupt version of myself, but then I also didn't know what they were going to think when they see their son in battered and torn armor stolen straight from the Helmsmen, with a body count to boot. I almost hesitated before I opened the door, aware of how much I changed. I peered inside, our hallway completely dark. I tried flicking on a switch, but it refused to work. Most likely a power failure...or that the power was cut deliberately. 

"Hello?" I whispered, trying to feel my way around the house before I found my hand gripping the partition wall separating our hall from the living room. "Mom? Dad?"

Instead the only answer I got was a blow to the head, something cold and made of metal. Before I knew it I was crumpled on the ground, pain swimming through the left-hand side of my head. I could taste blood on my tongue, and I began to see stars...

*

I didn't come to immediately, and I couldn't tell what was real and what was a dream. 

The first thing I made out were those same stars, still dancing through my vision, still blurring out everything else. Next came that sensation of pain, a dull throb like a bad headache that seemed to get worse with every passing second. I couldn't think straight, only focused on the pain, only focused on try to make it go away. I tried moving my hands, but I couldn't feel them. My feet weren't co-operating either. I was completely paralyzed, I didn't know where I was and how I got there. Things seemed to get clearer as time wore on, but slowly. I was soon able to see past those stars, to see that my arm was covered in drip feeds. It was bruised, like they tried a few too many times to find the right veins. Even in my dazed mind, I knew that they must have been what was making me feel this way. I tried struggling again, but nothing happened. Had the blow to my head damaged me even more than I thought it would? I couldn't see anything in the darkness then, did one of my parents do it? Did they think the Helmsmen were trying to break into their home? But then why was I here? Why was I dazed and confused?

When I started to feel a bit more alert, I could see that there was another person right alongside me. She towered over me, and that was when I realized that I was lying down on a stretcher of some sort, bound in straps. That explained why I couldn't move with any real degree of success, but not why I couldn't seem to send any signals to the rest of my body whatsoever. She typed in a pad, bored, blonde hair tied up in a tight ponytail.

She was also wearing a labcoat, emblazoned with Fibrtech insignia. 

Oh no...

I knew where I was now, which only made me struggle to move even more, but I was completely still the entire time. When I became even more aware of my surroundings, I could feel the vibrations which could only come from an elevator. I struggled to speak, but it was nothing but a series of gurgles, incomprehensible. 

My escort didn't even turn to take a look at me, still distracted with what she was typing. 

We seemed to be moving upwards, very slowly. Since there was really nothing I could do I began to count the seconds in my head, the seconds before the vibrations would stop and the doors would open. I passed five-hundred before I really started to worry. It should have stopped by now, unless we were going really high...

It dawned on me that maybe we weren't inside Fibrtech's main factory after all, but by then the elevator finally ground to a halt, the doors slowly priming open. I still hadn't gotten enough of my vision to make anything in this new room, nothing but blurs, but this new Scientist pushed my stretcher forward, unconcerned. I could make out desks, all with hideously expensive equipment, all lined up in a circular manner. The room itself was huge, and I noticed that the entire walls weren't walls at all, but glass. It was so dark out that it took me a while to figure that one out. I could see people, a lot of them, nearly all of them covered in white. 

Then I saw it, and even if all I could see were blurs it was still distinctive enough for me to panic even more than I was already. 

We were eye-level with the Leviathan, so close that it could actually scrap the glass if it inched any closer. That could only mean that I was inside the same building my Dad worked in, the building I wanted to break into in the first place. 

I was placed on one particular corner of the room, still strapped in and paralyzed, but I began to feel myself being dragged upright, relentless. Even now I tried to break free, but it was still no good. I felt something flow directly into my arm, another round of sedatives from the drip feeds themselves. Almost immediately I was blacking out, no longer able to make out even the tiniest of things. My eyelids fluttered, fighting to stay awake, because I needed to stay awake. 

"So, this is the boy giving us so much trouble..."

That voice - and the blur that resembled a man strolling in my direction - was instantly familiar, even when I only heard it once before. I still remembered tearing off that visor when I saw his face, when I heard that voice. He was now so close to me, I could feel his breath against my face. It smelled of smoke, it made my eyes water. 

"Model YJ-08769, Ian Kenzie. Stop the sedative process, I want him to take a good look around."

His order made somebody rush towards me - maybe the same woman who accompanied me up here - and I felt the feeds being yanked from my arm, although I was too heavily drugged to feel any sort of pain. Even then I was beginning to get some small sense of awareness back, my eyesight getting clearer with every passing second. The man's face came slowly into focus, something I was forced to go watch in terror. He was definitely the man I was trying to reach, but not like this, never like this. The same room became sharper and sharper as well, it even seemed to grow once I got some small sense of scale back. The mechanical monster just outside only seemed to grow as well, its silhouette moving slowly as it whined. 

Where are the controls? They have to be here...

"Let me tell you a little story," the General continued, obviously noting at where my eyes were, turning around so he could get a good look at it as well. "all of this began, you began, when those above my pay grade decided on this entire program. I was present during that conference, though politics ain't my thing. Security detail, I prefer to point and shoot."

He faced me again, a great big smirk splashed across his face.

"The synthetic program was agreed on there and then, but then one of them decided to take that and use it in a way it just wasn't meant to," he inched closer again, making sure I got a good look into his eyes, "The program was only meant to be used so we could extract organs from you, and the guys in white needed to grow full bodies to extract them from. They couldn't just clone the damn things themselves, something I could never get my damn head around. There was one woman, Dr. Bepholo Hazelbrook, who went beyond her station and implemented you freaks into the general population. She was suitably dealt with, by none other than her, but the damage was done."

"Why...are you telling me this?" I crocked, still trying to break free. My limbs were tingling now that nothing was injected into my nerves, but it slowly became more and more painful, an itch under my skin, impossible to scratch. 

"This is where it gets interesting. You see, there was nothing they could do to stop you from existing, so they planned on allowing you to live. You would live out your lives inside your domes, you would die off, nobody would know about your true purpose to us, everyone is happy...that was, until you showed up on the outside."

He let the words hang in the air, because he knew he got to me. 

"Me?"

"You see, only authorized personnel are allowed outside the Sectors, son. Then you came along, and you decide to break into a classified containment area, take a valuable asset hostage, and kill several of my men and women in the process. It didn't take long for you to become a killer, now did it?"

"I'm not a killer -"

"Oh but you are, Ian Kenzie. A cold-blooded killer, in fact. They noticed as well. I was given orders to kill you in the beginning. Just you, inform your family that you died because of radiation. Then you went ahead and started getting confident, wearing our dead's suits, destroying expensive equipment in the field, stealing several more vehicles and assets. No, She made a different call then; I was then ordered to kill each and every one of you, both inside and outside this glass snowglobe of yours."

"No..." I was furiously trying to break free now, no matter how futile it was. I could even feel my hand squeezing through the restraints, but that was when he grabbed it, his grip burning my skin. He slammed it back into place, and I could hear a crack even if I was still too numb to feel anything other than tingling. 

"Just remember, all of this," he gestured at the city outside, and immediately the Leviathan followed with another pair of missiles, streaking almost directly downwards and detonating a few seconds later, "this is your doing. This is all your fault, Ian Kenzie. You should have just kept your nose out of things it never belonged in."

I wanted to yell at him, but he was already walking away, moving closer so that he could see the destruction that was happening just outside. I was powerless to stop him, and if what he said was true...

It's all my fault...all of it.

Four-Seven, Eight-Six, Nine-Nine, One-Eight. All of them could have been dead by now. I could have been one of the few that was left, & that was only because that bastard wanted it that way. I knew I didn't have a lot of time left, because once the fighting outside stopped, once the Helmsmen won, there would be no reason for me to be around. They were going to continue their projects, & I knew this entire Sector would have to be scrapped from whatever bigger plan they were making. That was 20 million people, all dead or dying. 

All because of me. 

Tears rolled down my cheeks, crying shamelessly while everybody else just carried on with their work, absolutely unfazed. I wanted to say something to my family, but I wasn't even going to get the chance to say sorry to them. 

"Sir? You might want to take a look at this!"

One of them stood up from his desk, running towards the General, gesturing for him to come forward. 

"What is it now, Dr. Phillips?" he replied, agitated. He clearly didn't want to be torn away from the view outside. All the Scientist did was point at his semi-holographic projection, and the General responded by grabbing his coat, pushing him away as he crouched to get a better look at...whatever it was. 

"How?" Override the damn thing! That's an order!" He barked, but by then I could see what was going on. 

It approached us quickly, outside the dome itself but closing in fast. It was nothing but a shadow on account of the night sky, but it was obvious that it wasn't going to stop. Everybody started panicking then, scattered around while they touched any and every button they could inside this place to try and stop it. 

It was another Leviathan, the first one we encountered on the outside.

It tore through the dome with ease, sending deep cracks across the rest of the glass, shattering into pieces. It fell on everything underneath it, including the Leviathan that was guarding this skyscraper. From where I was placed, I could just about make out some of the wall crumbling to the ground as well, the partition where the concrete ended & the glass began simply not strong enough to withstand that object. It was an echo of sound, but even then it hadn't stopped moving, aiming for its counterpart in the sky. It suddenly accelerated away from where it was hovering, attempting to dodge the burning wreck of metal, but the rogue Leviathan simply adjusted its course, darting in a new direction which made it impossible to miss. 

They struck against each other, & they instantly exploded in a ball of flame, sending shrapnel across the entire city. Some of it struck the lower sections of this building, I could hear them tear through metal even from up here. The General could hear it as well, because he was already sprinting towards another pair of doors, disappearing in moments. 

Just as he did, the elevator doors opened again, & at first I could have sworn that they were Helmsmen pouring in, and that my time was cut short. Instead, they simply opened fire on every Scientist left standing there, firing as many rounds as they could until there was nobody left to fire at. Some of them chased the General through those same doors, but another fully-armored individual noticed me, rushing towards me & breaking my restraints with ease. I fell onto the ground, coughing and spluttering, but already a heavy hand forced me up to my feet again. I couldn't see the face behind the visor, until he tore it off of him. 

"Nine-Nine!"

"There's no time!" He shouted, grabbing me and escorting me out of here, his shotgun held with his one free hand, "We have to get out of this falling mess, and we need to capture him. Alive!"

"Introduce stricter protocols for the remaining containment facilities. Escort as many of your men and women outside of Sector 7 as soon as possible. Your strategy failed, Lough. We will discuss this once you return for debriefing." - Unknown

I didn't know what to think of first. 

I wanted to know how they managed to come here in one piece. I wanted to know how they managed to defeat that great lumbering piece of metal that looked it it was going to tear them all to shreds. I wanted to know where One-Eight and Four-Seven was. I wanted to know if Aaron and Hayley and everybody else was okay. I wanted to ask all of those questions, all at once, but I could feel the building sway slightly, and I knew it wasn't going to be long before it would come crashing down. 

It was all my fault...

His words were still ringing in my ears, that everybody would have been okay if I just stayed inside Oceyron and only ever dreamt about leaving this place for the rest of my life. He was right, I killed people. Terrible people, but people nonetheless. Nine-Nine was rounding up what was left of his troops, about a dozen of them. Was that all that was left? 

My body was still slightly sluggish on account of the chemicals still inside my system, my legs still numb. They didn't feel like my own, and I couldn't feel my feet touch the floor. That was why Nine-Nine had his free arm around me, although I knew I was only slowing him down. We chased down the same sort of corridors the General must have rushed through, but we could see the chaos that was unfolding outside. There was an enormous hole in the dome, I was surprised even some of it was still held in place. Pieces of the wall were continuing to crumble, and I realized that the general public must have still thought that the outside world was radioactive. They were going to panic. 

They already were.

There were a few more people, but to be honest we never really paid attention to them. All of us were in the same mess, trying to leave this sinking ship. We found ourselves in a massive, circular hallway where the entire ceiling was nothing but glass, the walls & floor seemingly made of stainless steel, & the furniture begin to slide as the skyscraper tilted yet again. 

"What now?" I heard somebody yell towards Nine-Nine, but he didn't answer. In the back of my mind, I knew he didn't really have an exit strategy to a falling building, so instead we just kept charging through doors, trying our best to find some sort of exit. The General must be in a similar position, himself. 

"Helipads!" He cried, and I saw the opening at the other side of the room.

There he was, out in the opening, the entire city of Oceyron set at an angle. He had a sidearm resting in his hands, unusually relaxed considering the position we were all in. He fired a few rounds as soon as he noticed us approach him, and we were forced to find cover behind the nearest wall. Nine-Nine moved to the other side, separating the both of us. I tried reaching for my own gun, but my arms just weren't acting right. It took a miracle just to have my fingers reach for the weapon itself - only to find that I had no weapon to fire with. It took me a second to realize that it was clearly confiscated by the very man who was taking shots at us. Nine-Nine looked my way, realizing my predicament at the same time I had.

"Your entire city is going to hell," we could hear him cry out, his voice almost drowned out by the wind and the groaning of metal bending and warping underneath us, "we'll make sure of it. She'll make sure of it. Bepholo is going to pay for this!"

Nine-Nine answered by momentarily moving from cover, standing as firmly as he could on the crooked floor, his pistol ready. Unfortunately, so was the General, and he managed to fire first. Nine-Nine was back in his hiding spot, a single bullet lodged uselessly inside his chest-plate. He forced it out and tossed it aside like it was a minor annoyance.

"Your Synthetic friends, they're all being shipped! They'll be delivered to separate facilities, their organs will be extracted, just like they were supposed to be when the program was approved. When all of this is said and done, there will be nobody left here to remember this!"

He was slowly shoving his way inside a commercial Helipad, and our building tilted another degree or two. It was nothing much, but Oceyron tilted along with it. My partner used the opportunity to try and get some sort of lucky shot in, but it was useless. The 'Pad  was nothing that could pose any sort of a threat, but he moved off the clearing and took into the sky. Nine-Nine and I were right behind him, and he pushed me into the passenger side while he slumped behind the controls. It was a tight fit, his armor taking more than half as much space again. I felt cold metal pressed against my face. 

So I was getting some feeling back. It was a start. 

"If he gets a chance to leave this Sector, we're done," he explained, firing the tiny craft into life, "he'll send in reinforcements, there's no way we would be able to hold that off."

"How did you get past the Leviathan?" I crocked, my voice hoarse. I felt the both of us take off, but slowly. The Helipad struggled. It was taking on a lot more weight than the craft we were trying to pursue. 

"It turns out they can also be operated manually," he replied, jerking the control forward so our cart would slingshot forward, "Eight-Two Three decided to do the honors himself, even stopping me from volunteering."

"Wait, so does that mean..."

Nine-Nine nodded. There really wasn't a need for an answer.

I took a look outside the cockpit, looking at the wreckage below us. Both Leviathans were nothing more than burning heaps of metal, some parts of it jutting out of other buildings. I took a look back at the tower we just left. It was arched, but was somehow keeping itself together. I saw the holes that dotted the middle section, although much of it remained intact. I hoped every other Synthetic made it out before it eventually gave out. 

Both of our craft were soaring above the decimated city, and I could see entire chunks of tarmac dislodged and scattered, several tanks and trucks and every other vehicle in various states of disrepair. With absolutely no sort of ammunition at our disposal, we didn't have any real plan as to how to capture the man ahead of us, Helmsmen were everywhere, nothing but ants from up here, but they were in their hundreds. There were ordinary people out in the streets as well; no wonder, considering the fact that two Leviathans had collided in mid-air above their homes, and that they were hoping to put as much distance between them and Oceyron as possible. We were losing the General, and he was heading straight for the exposed hole in the dome. We couldn't accelerate any harder, there was too much weight to make it go any quicker. My pilot swore, realizing that there were no weapons to bring him down. Nobody on the ground had the firepower to take it out, either. 

We were going to lose him.

Our Helipad changed course, because Nine-Nine must had been thinking the same thing. I could see the fresh scars that lined his face, the soot and dirt of surviving out there against impossible odds. This was the first time I had ever seen him less than completely confident in himself. 

This was the first time I had ever seen him look...defeated. 

"We need to secure the Synthetics from here," he explained, pointing towards Fibrtech instead, the factory where I was born, "That's our number-one priority right now."

"We'll get him," I responded, knowing what he was thinking, "we'll track him down somehow, right?"

He just looked at me then, smirking.

"You're a different kid to the one I remember."

Yeah, I guess I am, aren't I?

"Fibrtech...my Dad works there," I explained. "My parents weren't home, they could be there. Tell me you can spare everybody."

"Those bastards -"

"Please!"

I thought he was going to say no. I really did. Instead, he took a deep breath, slotting his visor back over his head while our Helipad drifted ever closer to the factory. 

"All personnel, hold fire. I repeat, do not engage with firearms. Contain if possible."

"Thank you,"

"Don't thank me yet. There's nothing my folks can do if they fire back. You better hope your family don't decide to shoot."

I hoped so, too.

We began our descent, but we could see that the fighting hadn't stopped down on the ground. Several people on both sides were exchanging fire, the Helmsmen taking cover behind several abandoned buildings while my kind were out in the open, trying to advance and trap them inside their own hiding place. Nine-Nine grunted, heaving the control as far as it would go so that our chopper would maintain some sort of a dignified landing. It still managed to land nose-first, shoving me out of my seat as my chest struck the controls. It hurt a lot, but nothing like the pain that engulfed my legs a few days back. Nothing seemed to be broken, so I moved sluggishly out of the vehicle, with Nine-Nine in tow. He grabbed me by the arm, taking me away from that firefight. 

"They can handle it," he assured me, but I watched one of our kind prim a grenade, throwing it right inside one of the doors where several Helmsmen were camping.  We watched it explode, sending a ringing through my ears, but we kept moving anyway. There was more fighting inside Fibrtech's doors, something which made my heart rate spike. I couldn't think of a single other place my parents would be right now. They had to be there, they just had to be!

Two Helmsmen darted outside, firing all the way. 

Nine-Nine took a few blows, several bullets pinging and denting his armor, but he shielded me and dragged me to the nearest available sort of cover. He traded his shotgun for another weapon, a rusted and anticipated rifle from the looks of things. He stood up just about long enough to fire a single round, while from my hiding spot I could see it crack right through his opponent's visor, killing him instantly. He crouched again, watching more rounds sail over the space he had occupied just a moment ago, and I saw another Helmsmen flank us, ready to fire. Without thinking, I grabbed the shotgun from the ground - noting how heavy it was - aimed it dead-center in the guy's chest, and fired. The weapon buckled into my chest from the recoil, and I yelled and dropped it in surprise. The twin slugs found their mark though, and although it wasn't enough to breach those armor platings, it alerted Nine-Nine enough for him to turn around and plant another pair of bullets into the guy's head, much like before. 

He helped me back upright - noting that I was clutching my chest from the force of his preferred weapon, and snuck left, attempting to sneak up on our previous attacker. We could see him now, moving away from the entrance itself to close in on what was once our hiding spot. We spotted him through the wreckage of several burned out cars, and Nine-Nine fired a dozen or so rounds his way, the entire clip expended. One of them somehow managed to strike the partition where the armor ended and his body suit began, taking out his leg from underneath him. Several more of them caught him on his right-hand side, while the last bullet struck the side of his head. It wasn't enough to kill him, but it was certainly enough to knock him out.

We sprinted towards him and relieved him of his weapon.

Now that I had a standard rifle I could actually use, we moved together, crouching when we reached the doors themselves, peering inside before we barged in there. I remembered this place in happier times, rubble covered the floor, several panes of glass broken. In fact, as we decided the coast was clear and moved inside, the entire factory floor had been completely leveled, every single sheet of glass destroyed, machines in pieces. There was clearly signs of a last stand here. There was almost no lighting to speak of. 

That was when Nine-Nine decide to slouch on the ground, pressing his back against a wall, suddenly gasping for breath. 

"What's wrong?" I asked, suddenly concerned, watching him tear off a piece of plating using his power-assisted hand. There was blood, a lot of it. 

"Lucky shot," he whispered, smiling, "clean shot through, no bullet to take out. I need to be patched up."

I didn't know what to do, so of course the first thing I did was sprint into the body of broken glass which used to house just one of Fibrtech's manufacturing floors, hoping that there was something even resembling first aid. All those dangerous machine parts would warrant some compulsory medical kit, right? I eventually found something after rummaging through some deserted cabinets, though it wasn't much, just a few bandages and plasters, some sanitizing solution. Nothing that would stop a man from bleeding. 

Crap.

I ran towards him again, trying to do my best to at least cover the gunshot wound, but he took them out of my hands, spraying some of that sanitizer with a grimace, sticking plasters over his body suit, right at the exposed skin. They turned red almost immediately, but by then he draped the bandage around his waist, using all of it. It would have been much better if he could have applied it directly to his skin, but it would have simply taken too much time if he had to dismantle what he was wearing. We didn't have that luxury. Nine-Nine was on his feet again, which was a miracle in and of itself. At least there was something covering his torso. 

"I'll be fine," he assured me, "doesn't look like it hit an artery. Even if it did, we don't have a lot of time, kid."

He was right, I could hear pot shots far off into the dark, and I suddenly remembered we weren't alone. We kept moving, though my eye was always watching the man to my right, wary in case his injury got the better of him. I remembered what it must have felt like for him, watching over me and my singed calves. They were still charred and they still hurt, but I was able to look past it now. That couldn't have been more than two days ago. We heard another frag grenade explode in the courtyard outside Fibrtech's factory doors, which snapped me out of things. 

We moved through the glass of what was once just one of many production lines, always keeping our weapons pointed ahead of us. I couldn't tell just what might decide to pop out at us in this near-darkness. The destruction seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see, while it was only the sound of our own feet scraping through the debris. I kept thinking about my parents, about my friends. Where would they go? If Hayley and Aaron and everybody else were forcibly taken by Fibrtech, where would they put them? The General answered that question for us, and there were other containment facilities scattered around. I knew what Nine-Nine and the rest of the Synthetics would plan on doing once we managed to get ourselves out of this mess.

Should we go up, or down? That simple question brought me right back to the present. This factory had different floors: which way should we go?

Something moved, it sounded like a pair of them, so Nine-Nine and I veered off in opposite directions, taking cover behind discarded and uprooted manufacturing machines. I needed to aim for the head, I'd seen him do it again and again, the visors couldn't stop a round from going through. I could barely make anything out, although the sound never really stopped. They weren't even trying to be stealthy about it. 

I realized why when I finally got a good look at them. 

They were small, simple mechanical things, nothing but a simple exoskeleton on legs. I could have come up with something along those lines in Science class, back when school was part of my daily routine. Two 'eyes' housed different-sized camera lens, locking onto the both of us with ease. Clearly thermal, then. They limped slowly towards us, no real firearms or any sort of weapons that I could make out. 

Until I spotted the biohazard sign embedded in the center of those things...but Nine-Nine caught onto it quicker still, already pressing on my shoulder and hoisting me up to my feet. 

"Move!"

They stood still, falling to their mechanical knees as we tore through every broken shard on the floor, heading back towards the entrance again. I caught Nine-Nine by the shoulder when I decided on a different path, pushing him towards the elevator that veered just to the right of those doors. We slammed inside it, furiously pressing buttons until the doors shut and we were descending deeper into the building. 

We could feel the explosions overhead more than we could hear them, shuddering through the elevator and right into my bones. I could even see a flicker of bright-hot flame above us when the blast radius extended right to where we were standing a few moments ago. I prayed that the tether holding this box wouldn't snap and send us plunging to our deaths. Thankfully, it hadn't. 

"More surprises." Nine-Nine grunted, cradling his shotgun with no sign that he was bleeding out in any way. 

I had only been on this exact lift twice before, both when I was just created, escorted for testing before I was allowed out into the outside world. Way back then, the floor we were dropping into was completely empty, apart from some wiring. Now, however, every square inch was plastered with cameras and screens, several cells just like the ones we saw on the outside, and I knew we were where we needed to be. My heart raced, but I forced myself to focus on the job at hand. We needed to either type in the correct code, or to pry the doors open ourselves. Neither of those choices were exactly easy, and Nine-Nine was in no condition to do some heavy lifting, even if he appeared to be carrying his injury in his stride. The elevator stopped, opening its doors. Both of us snuck out, sticking together. 

We heard them again, even more of those damn machines, explosive charges filling their metallic cavities. Even one of them detonating would kill several people unfortunate to be standing too close, even if they were separated by half a meter of concrete and steel. They seemed to be patrolling, each machine taking on a set route. They had to have been operated manually, those cameras were enough to give it away, but they must have been controlled from inside. They were just too simple to warrant control from further away.

At least, that's what I hoped. So far all of my assumptions had been pretty lucky. What happened if our luck managed to run out? 

As much as it pained me to leave those cells behind, we needed to find the people who were controlling them. They also knew that we were here, so there wasn't much time. I was under no illusion that they would remotely detonate all of them if they so much as caught a whisper of us moving towards them. I wasn't sure those blocks were strong enough to withstand the force of an explosion. 

But the General had escaped, he would surely order everybody to evacuate and escape along with him? Did he even care? Is that why there were only a handful of Helmsmen left patrolling the streets? There were too many variables, my head hurt just thinking about it. 

"Follow me," I told Nine-Nine, making up my mind. He seemed to question my decision for a moment, before deciding that I knew more about this place than he did. It certainly felt strange leading him around, for a change. This facility was huge, and if anybody were left here I was sure they could spot our every move from several cameras which dotted several corridors. They were going to see us coming, that much I knew. But trying to shoot those machines would only detonate them, anyway. There was no real solution to this. Moving cautiously to the right, making absolutely sure no set of eyes were tracking us, we left the enormous, warehouse-like facility and onto yet more claustrophobic corridors, We peered into several doors, intent on taking out whoever stood inside. Thankfully they were all empty, the tables and counters covered in debris from the ceiling due to the earlier explosion above us. Several pads were scattered in several rooms, so I tried deciphering them in order to get any real sort of idea of what was going on here. The walls only looked vaguely familiar, and it was only muscle memory that made me move between rooms, collecting whatever sort of clues I got. We snuck into a larger room that was running only on emergency lighting, soot everywhere. This facility must had been directly underneath the previous detonation, because there were cracks on each wall, beakers & equipment scattered & broken on the ground. The only reason I stayed there for longer than was strictly necessary was because I recognized this place more than the others; this was where they herded us after we were born, before I was taken away to my own separate quarters. I never saw the rest of them again. Hayley and Aaron were created a few short weeks after me. I wondered what had happened to them. 

I recoiled when I thought of the answer, the very idea of them being shipped off to have their organs extracted...

Seething, I marched through the room itself, trying to find anything that would be of any real particular use. When there was nothing to be found, I smashed my arm against the nearest wall in frustration, creating yet another hole inside it. I was too enraged to feel the pain that came with that. 

"Hang in there kid," Nine-Nine responded, moving closer to me, "this place obviously has some meaning to you, but we can't think about the past now. Get your weapon and haul ass out of here, we still need to find whoever it is you're looking for."

"I don't even know if there's still somebody to look for." I replied, still furious at the realization. It felt fresh, this pain, this understanding. I was the only one to have survived, the only one who was deemed fit to head out into the outside. I could have easily have ended up just like them, and then none of this would have happened. Nine-Nine looked pale, however. It brought things back into focus. He was still bleeding out, I didn't even know how he was managing to stand at this point. 

"How many more of us are left?"

Nine-Nine seemed confused by the question, "A few dozen or so inside the Sector, a handful just outside it, why?"

"You should head back, get yourself seen to as fast as you can. You're going to bleed out in here."

For a second I could see him wave me off in dismissal, but instead his pale face looked away, taking a deep breath and sighing. 

"I have to stay here, I can't fall back and give up when there are lives to be saved..."

I wasn't sure he was saying that to me; he was saying it to himself. I could see him before he became this fearless leader, holed up in one of those exact cells, afraid of them, looking for a way out. Nine-Nine was afraid. 

"No, you head back to your squad, make sure nobody else makes it inside. I know this place better than you ever could. I need to find whoever is left."

The words didn't feel right coming from me, especially when they were directed at the man who seemed to be the de facto leader of whatever resistance movement I was a part of now, but he nodded, he actually listened to me. He didn't say anything else, instead backing up towards the way we came, turning around and grunted as he ran. 

Nine-Nine was gone. I was all that was left.

I knew where I had to go. 

I could see the cameras in every twist and turn, always greeting me, always staring at me whenever I marched down yet another identical hall. I encountered nobody else, Helmsmen or otherwise. Not a single Labcoat either. Considering what had happened on the outside, it was reasonable to assume that the entire place was evacuated. 

It wasn't the first time I broke into a facility too little too late, either. 

Still, those robotics were hopefully still controlled from inside the factory itself, so I still had a job to do. At least if I died, Nine-Nine would have been saved. He knew what he needed to do, I trusted him more than any of us. I rounded what I hoped was the final corner, breathing a sigh of relief when I found the unconventional doors which distinguished it from the rest of the rooms and offices. It was Antonio Armado's office. I was only faintly aware of those doors as I passed them by, nearly four years ago, but I knew that if anything was going to be controlled, it would be in here.

I crouched, took a deep breath as I closed my eyes, and barged right on inside.

The walls were blank, stripped of everything that was once inside. All that was left was a desk and a holopad, as well as the man operating it.

Layton.

I raised my gun at him quickly, in that split-second absolutely furious, but then I looked at the details a little bit more closely. Layton was on the verge of tears, looking at me through the actual holographic projection itself, his nose still recovering from that brutal strike from outside. I could see each projection as a separate camera feed, which meant he detailed each and every turn I made as I headed towards him. I could also see each individual robotic guarding those cells through their eyes, turning and following along their paths. Once I slowly moved to the right, however, I could see that the Labcoat was wearing some sort of metal harness around him, covering his neck and most of his shoulders. It was made of the same cheap stuff as those little explosive bastards scurrying about. I had no doubt as to what that was. 

"Get out of here," he pleaded, his voice cracking. 

"What happened to you?" 

"They ambushed us, after you went into your house...they must have been waiting for you. They took the rest of us! Your friends are inside those cells outside. They're abandoning this place, Ian."

I was taken aback. He never called me by my original's name before. 

He continued, practically crying now, "They dumped me here because they know I'm gonna be dead one way or another. If I prime the explosives out there, it will blow my harness, as well. If you try and take it off, it'll detonate those robotics out there anyway."

He was stuck, and the man knew it. He was sobbing uncontrollably now, and it was only now that I realized that his hands were chained to the desk itself. He wasn't going anywhere. 

"Layton..." I whispered, kneeling down beside him, "I'm so sorry. I dragged you into this."

"I...I was a dead man anyway," he admitted, "I should have turned down the chance to work on this program. Ian, those explosive charges are going to detonate in twenty minutes, regardless of whether I activate them or not. Get to the cells, I'll disable the locking system. There's nobody left around to stop me."

"The General escaped," I admitted, "I think everybody else is retreating along with him."

"Get your friends," he pleaded, and I realized that I was on borrowed time. I immediately got back on my feet, rushing back towards those doors again. I gave one last glance back towards him, feeling helpless. 

"Ian, I'm sorry." he whispered. I believed him. 

I couldn't afford to waste any more time, moving as quickly as my burned calves would allow me, swearing when I ended up taking a wrong turn or two. I was beginning to panic, my heart rate spiking up, adrenaline taking over. I practically shouldered my way through two sets of doors, breaking through them on account of my heavily-armored shoulder. I carefully tip-toed past those little terrifying bastards - fully aware of the explosive charges built into them - and slammed myself into the nearest cell I could find. I primed the door open as hard as I could, and even though they opened, they opened very slowly. I could feel a few other hands on the other side push as they were aware that somebody was trying to open it, and they were eventually free. There were roughly twenty or so of them, nobody I knew personally, but I ordered them to make their way towards the elevator immediately. 

That suddenly presented another problem, only five or so could fit inside that thing. It wouldn't be enough to ferry hundreds of people in twenty minutes. Not even close. 

I shouted back at them, told them to find some stairs. They must have been nearby in case of an emergency, or if that elevator itself stopped working. I was putting a lot of faith into the design layout of a building I visited maybe twice in my entire life, but I was too busy to go searching for it now. I primed more doors open, and out came more and more of our kind, asking me what was going on and why they were ferried inside those cramped compartments. I ignored them, barking at them to meet up with the others before barging into cell after cell after cell. With each & every door that was opened, more and more Synthetics poured out. They all looked in a terrible state, like they hadn't been fed in days. One man stood out in particular, thanking me with both hands clasped into my own, although I had to tell him to move on up ahead. 

It was another copy of Nine-Nine, almost exactly the same face. I told him to take care of the others. I hoped they found some sort of a way up to the ground floor and threw those entrance doors. He nodded & thanked me again, herding the younger captives & helping them forward. 

I didn't know how much time I had left, but I kept prying cells open, kept on forcing them out of this room and into safety, until I came to the penultimate block of concrete and steel, now accustomed to breaking the door apart with effort. 

I recognized Aaron anywhere, and he was the first person I spotted in the mess. He stared at me like I was some alien or something, taking a good look at the armor I was wearing, the gun in my hands. He seemed afraid. 

"Ian..."

There wasn't time, I told him to take everybody else and escort them out of here, we had minutes before those explosives would blow. Aaron obeyed, grabbing everybody else. I watched as they all limped or struggled out of here, disappearing behind a wall. They must have found some way of making it outside by now! I was already on the final cell, already prying my fingertips into the gap between the door & the block itself, & it was open in seconds. 

One-Eight. Four-Seven. They were here, robbed of their armor, reduced to the same rags as everybody else. They were slumped in a corner, and I dashed inside and helped them both to their feet. 

"What's going on?" Four-Seven croaked, his cheek horribly swollen and bruised. 

"It's me, we're getting out of here!" I replied, but then I saw the girl on the other side of the cell, completely immobile. 

It was Hayley!

"One-Eight, grab her!" I pleaded, hoping he would understand enough to do as he was told. Unfortunately he cowered, whimpering. Instead I escorted Four-Seven towards him, wrapping his shoulder around my copy. 

"Go!" I shouted. He understood enough to ferry himself out of this holding block while I reached down to pick my old friend up off of the ground. She was light as a feather, and it wasn't just on account of my armor, either. She was unconscious, but still breathing. She was still with us after all! But when I looked at her face again, right as I moved outside and guided the rest of them through the same path the rest had taken, She wasn't the only person I saw in her face. 

I saw traces of One-One, as well. 

We found a stairs, alright - far-off to the right and down an impossibly long corridor - so we raced towards it as quickly as our legs would allow. Even with the power-assisted augmentations this suit provided, I was beginning to get a little bit winded. I felt old blisters re-opening in my legs, bringing back that blinding pain from just a few short days ago. I couldn't stop now, though, not when we were so close. Not when we had seconds.

One-Eight and Four-Seven clambered up the steps first, while I carried Hayley along with me, right behind them. It took everything I had to put one foot in front of the other, to keep moving forward when my legs wanted to stop more than anything else. They cleared the steps a good five seconds before I did, and they were already struggling through the debris of the earlier explosion. Now everything was reduced to rubble, dust still falling from the ceiling, the floor lined with cracks that threatened to collapse at any moment. We burst through the doors with every last ounce of energy that we had, and the first thing I noticed was Nine-Nine, alongside what was left of our group, ferrying the captives as far away from Fibrtech as was physically possible. He seemed to ignore my advice, still carrying the bandages I applied earlier, still pale, and I gave him a cold hard glare as he personally came forward to take the rest of them from me. Hayley seemed to stir, her eyes shuttering, moaning softly. I held onto her for dear life, putting as much distance between me and the factory as was possible. 

Just then, all of a sudden, we heard the explosions. 

They boomed through the building, a new detonation added every second. It tore through the glass opening, the walls around it, the ceiling caving in on itself. The building was dissected from the inside out, reduced to rubble and tumbling to the ground. We covered our ears, waiting for the deafening detonations to stop, and when they finally did there was nothing left of Fibrtech Industries. Nothing but a hole in the ground...

"Commence the cleansing procedure. Make sure that not a single centimeter of that Sector is left standing." - Unknown

To most of the people who lived inside this Sector their entire lives, the great big hole in the dome was a cause for panic. 

There were hundreds of people, many of them in tattered clothes, some others covered in blood, caught up in the firefight. They begged for radiation suits for their children, while others refused to leave their homes and expose themselves to the air outside. Officers were everywhere, those same visors covering their faces, reflecting everything else around them. Somehow, you could still see the sense of fear in the way they moved, trying their best to keep the situation under control, failing. The center of the city was little more than rubble now, the tarmac of the road was splintered into pieces, vehicles thrown everywhere. Windows were smashed, smoke seemed to come from everywhere. It was only when we were walking when we heard the noise, and we saw that skyscraper finally give way, falling slowly onto the ground below and creating a cloud of smoke so large it rose to the very top of what was left of the dome. For a long while we couldn't see, and we knew that there was be casualties from it. 

There were going to be a lot of casualties. 

Nine-Nine was being tended to, relieved of his armor. The man couldn't afford to stand any longer, regardless of whether he wanted to or not. One-Eight and Four-Seven were by my side, while Aaron stood right alongside me, never looking away from his blind counterpart. I knew it bothered him. I knew he had a lot of questions, but he was on the verge of starvation, and we were busy feeding everybody who was forced in captivity in that damn place. Hayley was being seen to, as well. She was still weak, reduced to drip feeds salvaged from the hospital. The building was unfortunately hit when all of this began, we sorely needed a place like that right about now. People were displaced, and they demanded to know what was going on, why there were filthy clones in Helmsmen armor running about the place and destroying everything they touched. There was already a strong opposition against us, We had a lot of work to do once the dust settled. 

"Ian?"

Aaron couldn't wait any longer. We were taking shelter in what was once a large grocery store, a hole ripped right along one of its walls. People were helping themselves to anything they could find, because what was the point of currency in a city that was destroyed? He pulled me over to one side, away from the vast majority of the crowd, away from the people I fought alongside on the outside. 

"There's a lot to explain," I started, unsure of where to start, "Now is not the best time."

"There won't be a best time."

"There was never any radiation. The pricks lied to us, there was never any decontamination process or anything. We were cloned for our organs, Aaron. Do you know how terrifying that was?"

He turned pale, a lot closer to skin and bones than the last time I'd seen him, a world away from what was unfolding now, but he was still angry, and for some reason he was directing that anger at me, "That guy over there...how many more copies of me are there? Are we all the same? I could have sworn I'd seen another version of Hayley riding around somewhere. I don't understand it."

"I met another copy of Hayley out there, yeah," I replied, but stopped myself mid-sentence, "but they have their own identity. They're their own person. It's going to be hard at first, but we'll get used to it."

"Used to what, Ian? The city is gone!"

"Why are you taking this out on me? The only reason why I left my stupid house was because I wanted to find you and see if you were okay, but then I was tossed out there by one of those lying bastards! I didn't ask for this!"

He turned away, looking down on the ground. It was clear that quite a few people behind us must have heard our exchange.

"Look, I'm sorry Aaron -"

"No, don't be."

"Please -"

"I said don't."

He sounded a lot like me sometimes, when I wasn't in the mood for speaking, or when he mentioned my name when I felt like it wasn't my name to start with. I decided to leave him alone for the time being, until he caught up to what had happened over the course of the last few days. I handed him some morsel of chocolate that was still sitting in one of the aisles, and he accepted it wordlessly. He just slouched down on the floor, our backs against an aisle full of fruit and vegetables, watching everybody else scurry around. 

"I hope Hayley's going to be okay," he whispered, closing his eyes and tilting his head upwards, watching the ceiling, "just have to go through things one step at a time, I guess."

"There are other cities like this. Other Sectors, some sort of United Empire. I don't know what that part means, but there are other domes that need to know the truth. There could be more of us in this nightmare, Aaron."

"You're going to run about and try to free them all?"

"It's better than hanging out here and waiting for something to happen."

"Then I'll be joining you," he responded, and he offered me a square from that chocolate bar. I took a small piece, placing it on my tongue. I missed the sugar. 

Somebody leaned down towards us, casting us in their shadow. I was actually surprised to find Eight-Six towering over us, covered in scratches and smirking. She usual bald head was now covered in a very slight, dark-colored fuzz. It changed how she looked considerably. 

"Typical, lying down on the job. Give me some of that. Never had chocolate before."

Aaron offered the rest of the wrapping to her, and she snatched it from his hand without warning, shoving the rest into her mouth and chewing loudly. 

"How did you make it here?" I asked, watching her nod in appreciation over the food she'd just eaten. Last I'd seen her, she recklessly charged off in the direction of the Leviathan. 

"It wasn't easy, I'm not gonna lie to you. Saw most of them haul ass in some direction before we even made it to the wall. There were hundreds of them, but we weren't exactly complaining. Still had drones over our heads, something to keep us on our toes."

"Wait, you mean the Helmsmen?"

"Some soldiers that weren't ours, yeah. We're going to follow them as soon as we can, though. Nine-Nine still thinks that we're sitting ducks here."

"What about everybody else?" Aaron commented, "We can't just up and leave them, either."

"No, but we're hoping some of the folk around here will join the cause, Viva le Resistance, and all that. Your buddy here seemed to be just fine popping a shot or two, after all."

I saw it in his face then, that same level of anger in the way he frowned, the way he bit his lower lip just slightly, like he was trying to stop something he really wanted to say. Eight-Six was called over by somebody in particular, leaving the both of us relatively alone again, but by now I understood what he was thinking. 

"You can say it, Aaron."

"You killed people..."

"Nobody that hadn't had a gun pointed my way first."

But that was a lie. I killed more than my fair share of men and women in white coats - completely unarmed - once I found out what they were doing. Aaron could hear the slight change in my voice toward the end of my statement, catching the lie inside it. 

"You were right, though. Before all of this happened. You're definitely not Ian Kenzie."

"Aaron..." I whispered, but by then he was already on his feet, stuffing the packaging into his pocket. 

"I'm going to check on Hayley. I'll talk to you later."

He was already walking away by the time I said sorry. I couldn't tell if he heard it or not. 

I picked myself up as well, a bad taste left in my mouth from our exchange, heading back towards One-Eight and One-Seven and watching them as they ate. The store was rapidly losing all of its merchandise, it wasn't enough to feed the amount of people living here. I still had to find my parents...I couldn't think about the alternative. They weren't inside Fibrtech, I knew that like I knew that the sky was blue. They had to be out here somewhere, I just hadn't searched hard enough just yet. It was still a big city, even if most of it had collapsed by now.

"Okay guys, we got to move, need to help dig out some of the people caught in the rubble," Eight-Six suddenly announced, walking back towards me, "have to win the hearts and minds of the people, right?"

I wasn't in the mood for jokes, but she made a good point. There were countless people trapped underneath there, and we were going to have to move fast. I wanted to find Aaron, but he was nowhere to be seen among all of this people, so I decided to search for him later. He would look after Hayley, there was plenty of time to talk about things. 

We had all the time in the world. 

Eight-Six led the way, with me following closely behind. Even more Synthetics moved behind us, and I only vaguely recognized some of them. We started moving towards the site of the rubble, with people simultaneously pleading for us to help and throwing insults our way at the same time. I still had my rifle, but it was cradled on my back. The last thing these people needed was a gun pointed right at their face. Some of us didn't take too kindly to doing that, but then they were being hunted down their entire lives. It took a lot to put away something that could protect you. When we eventually reached the site, there were already construction trucks stationed there, threading through what little tarmac was left. Several people - most of them who worked on the construction side of things - were already grabbing people and helping them out of the rubble. Eight-Six and a few others moved ahead and joined the effort, while people looked at this in awe. Within seconds, she had already found a frail old woman, entirely covered in soot, helping her out and carrying her to a nearby stretcher. 

Unfortunately, when I saw yet more people being carried out of there, many of them hanging limply in their arms, I realized that not everyone was that lucky. 

I wanted to join in, but I had a feeling I was better off elsewhere. I needed to find Nine-Nine. I needed to figure out what we were going to do next, because he still believed that we were going to fail if we were stranded here. 

But Aaron was right, we couldn't leave everybody here, either. 

Away from everybody else, I started walking in a completely different direction, watching as the dust hanging over our heads began to fade away. It was escaping through the massive crater left in the dome, & you could clearly see the difference in the color of the sky from here. Inside our Sector, the sun looked dull, paling in comparison to the ball of fire which actually burned out there. You couldn't even make out those faint traces of clouds from the layer of glass. I thought about my parents again, wondering where they were. I didn't want to think that they were underneath that building. Distracting myself, I moved further and further from the center of Oceyron, until I could see our school twinkling in the distance, almost completely untouched. I could see a row of vehicles parked around it, almost like they were guarding it, clearly Helmsmen in the camouflage coating.

It was an obvious place for us to set up camp, considering the building was made in a material that allowed you to watch what was coming. I had no doubt they were also planning on ransacking the actual military complex here, as well. More ammunition and equipment for us. I thought about that, about pairing myself with them. I thought about Aaron's look of disgust, knowing that I killed people, some people who maybe hadn't deserved it. I thought of some of the Scientists who were caught in the crossfire...I thought of Layton again. How many of them were involved in the program just to make ends meet? How many were there thinking that they were genuinely furthering science? I thought about all of the variables until my head throbbed. 

The I realized what they were doing in order to further science, I had to remember why I was standing here in the first place. There were other Sectors, there would no doubt be other facilities much like the one we found out there, and the General was still on the loose and needed to be found before he could respond. I guessed that he was heading towards the nearest Sector for help. That meant another, entirely new army to contend with. Nine-Nine was right in wanting to leave before they came here. 

I needed to lie down, I could feel fatigue begin to set in. I still hadn't really found somebody who could tend to my burns. 

I walked towards what was once my school, watching more of us patrol the building, weapons always at the ready. There really weren't a lot of us left, even when you counted those who were helping in the city itself. Maybe fifty of us, maybe a little bit more, but nowhere near large enough to take on any reasonable threat. I could imagine another Leviathan heading our way, destroying that building with ease. It took a good few minutes before I could leave the cover of the dust & into some fresh air, but I eventually rounded the last corner, watching a pair in armor dutifully pull aside so I could enter. They were already busy erecting those compartments again, attaching them to the main building itself. There were holographic pads operating on full power, while a handful of drones hovered in the air. My first thought was to fetch my rifle and shoot them out of the sky, but then I realized that we were the ones controlling them. 

I stepped inside the building itself, just like I did hundreds of times before. The main hall had changed completely, lockers now used to store weapons, only a handful of people marching from place to place, not the hundreds of students from just a week or two ago. While some holographic projections were displayed, other screens needed extensive wiring lined across the floor to provide the necessary power. I almost tripped over a pair of them before catching my balance and preventing an accident. 

Nine-Nine was standing in the center of it all, observing several feeds. Many of them were derived from footage inside Oceyron itself, while a handful actually seemed to show footage of the outside. It was clear they were using the network the Helmsmen must have used when they were in control, and I couldn't even begin to think of how they managed to access it. It didn't really matter to me, I was just glad we had that to begin with. The man looked over towards me & nodded as I approached him, taking a good look at the place for myself. 

"Setting up shop. I have a feeling we're going to call this place home for a while."

"So we're not leaving?"

"Not yet. We still have a lot of groundwork to do here first. We need more in our ranks, so we're going to go asking around, Synthetics in particular. People are going to need to know the truth around here. You find your parents?"

I froze for a second...and shook my head.

"Well they're out there somewhere. We'll find them, don't worry."

"Thanks," I replied, but I knew he couldn't possibly fulfill his promise, not when he had a million other things to focus on, "how's your injury?"

"They'll need to shoot a lot better next time, that's for sure," he chuckled, although it seemed out of place, like he was forcing it out of him, "told to lie low and rest for a few days, but we don't exactly have that sort of luxury."

I was about to say something, but he interrupted. 

"You showed guts in there, kid. I would have made the exact same call if the situation was reversed. You could be a good leader in all of this misery, I'm just glad to have you on board."

"Yeah..."

It was impossible not to think of Aaron at that moment. I tried to shake the feeling of disappointment that he had for me now, but I couldn't. He wouldn't look at me the same way again, and I wasn't sure how I was going to cope with it.

"You saved hundreds of people in there," Nine-Nine reminded me, almost as if he knew how I was feeling. Maybe he could tell from my facial expression.

"Not everyone...Layton didn't make it out."

He nodded, suddenly grim, "I'm sorry to hear that. He was starting to come around, wasn't he? That's why we need to let people know of the truth; so we can make others realize what is going on and how to stop it. We'll do it, kid. We just need to get boots off the ground first."

"What about the General?"

"I'm going to be blunt, we needed him dead or captured. The fact that he's out there complicates things a bit. We don't know where he's heading, we don't know when he'll be back, because he will definitely be back."

I suddenly remembered something that seemed trivial until now, something which didn't quite make sense when I saw it first, "I might know where he's heading. There was smoke on the other side of the forest outside, near the mountains. It had nothing to do with us, could that be another Sector?"

He dropped everything after I had said that, crouching down as giving me his full and undivided attention, 

"Can you show us exactly where that was? You're certain?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure."

"Then we may have a destination. Good work, I knew I could count on you!"

I watched him wave his hand just slightly over the edge of his table, and it suddenly burst forth in a massive 3-D rendering of Oceyron, the buildings which collapsed and the ones still standing, as well as several heat signatures as it documented anybody that moved. It was the most elaborate projection I had ever seen, I actually realized I was holding in my breath at the sight of it. I let myself breathe slowly, taking everything in. 

"Funny thing is, this isn't the same local network. This is something else entirely, operating on a much larger frequency. This is all we got at the moment."

He pinched his fingers, and the views zoomed out, until we were actually looking at the damaged dome itself in real-time. I could spot the massive hole on the right-hand side, as well as the wall that was gutted underneath it. Beyond that, however, everything else was a complete blur. Nothing that we could gleam on the outside. I pointed to him the general direction of where I saw the smoke in correlation to where our dome was situated, a hazy patch on the outskirts of this holographic map which I hoped meant a rise in elevation, like the mountains which crowned the horizon out there. 

"Four-Nineteen, Six-Nine, send out reconnaissance drones on this position immediately!" Nine-Nine ordered, his voice booming through the hall. Almost instantly two more feeds popped up into view, detailing this very building from the outside, before they turned and darted towards the glass opening. I was going to watch this unfold right in the middle of this hall, until a single man marched towards us, nodding at me in particular. 

"There's somebody who wants to speak with you. Goes by the name of Hayley."

*

She was here, and she was standing on her own two feet. 

Aaron stood alongside her, offering to be her crutch if she needed help to regain her balance. Hayley smiled when she saw me emerge from what was once our school, but she stood where she was and waited for me before she wrapped her arms around me. 

"You're alright," she whispered, and I pulled her back slightly so I could get a good look at her face. She was still a lot weaker than the girl I knew, her cheekbones pretty much visible when they hadn't been before, while her arm was covered in bruises from where the feeds were put in, but she was okay. I only realized now how much I was worrying about her over the past few days, unable to stop a smirk of my own, my eyes welling up. 

"I'm so glad you're alright!"

"C'mon, the three of us need to go for a walk, away from all of this. Let's go to my house, it's still standing after all that crap."

Aaron was still quiet, but he smiled at me. I smiled right back, knowing that it was going to take some time before he understood what happened out there. I wrapped my arm around Hayley, offering to help her walk. To her credit, the girl didn't really need my help, but she moved very slowly, still weak. I didn't mind how slowly we walked, though. After everything that happened, this change of pace was...nice. 

"Aaron told me everything," she began, as we wound down the hill away from our school, leaving the rest of them to their devices. She looked hesitantly at the gun I had placed on my back, but thought better of it, "about the lies, about what was going on outside...everything."

"I really need to sit down and talk about this when we have time," I tried my best to explain, "I need to tell you everything that was going on out there. I wanted to find you two so badly!"

"It's okay. You did what you had to do. We get it. We don't think any differently of you, Ian."

It was Aaron's turn to nod and smile, finally finding the courage to look at me again.

"I'm sorry about...earlier."

"It's fine, I promise!" I responded, but he grinned and looked away, watching Oceyron in the distance, the city where several million people had their lives turned upside-down...or had lost their lives, full-stop. It was hard to stay optimistic when those ruins were out in front of you.

"I heard about the others," she continued, cautiously watching my reaction as she said that, "the other clones...copies of us. Aaron said that you met one of my copies out there..."

"One-One was her designation code," I answered, finding it impossible to look into Hayley's eyes and not find a piece of her counterpart in there as well, "she saved my life. she saved a lot of people's lives. Bravery must run in your genes."

"She sounded great..."

"Yeah..."

I really didn't need to say. There wasn't a lot that needed to be said, so instead I focused on the fact that my friends were alive. It was a small victory I clung onto as the rest of the world seemed to collapse around us. They talked about Fibrtech while I was away, the riots that had happened, how they were put down. It partially explained why there were so few of the Helmsmen on the outside, but not why the majority of them retreated from here. The sight of both Leviathans colliding may have done it, but even then I still wasn't sure. There was something else at play here, and it involved the General. 

I chose not to think about that now. 

The sun outside was beginning to set, but the flood lights never came on. They were probably too damaged when the rest of the structure took a beating, but the sky took on different shades of grey, depending on whether you were staring through the glass or if you were looking at the clear sky. It was the first time both of my friends had seen the emerging stars so closely, and they were amazed at it. 

Hayley's home was still there, and it was remarkably untouched. Most of this district was, in fact. Some of the artificial street lights were still functioning by the time we made it to her door. We could still hear voices coming from every direction, from every nearby building. Some were upset, some were angry, others tried to reason with them. Even now, even after all that's happened, It still felt like we were targets, something to blame when everything went wrong. I could still hear the word synthie, though I couldn't tell if it was real or if it was just a figment of my imagination. 

"We took in a few families who lost their homes," Hayley explained, before wobbling slightly on her two feet, feeling faint. I caught her almost instantly. She smiled and thanked me. 

"You need to lie down," I told her.

I think we all need to lie down. Just...get yourself out of that armor as soon as you're inside. Some of the people inside are a bit...angry."

I nodded, understanding immediately. I doubted I could even make it through the front door with the amount of plating that was covering me, but Hayley was already ahead of us, moving inside and waiting for Aaron and I to follow her. 

Her living room was completely packed with people, at least three families and their children taking residence on the enormous L-shaped sofa in the corner. While they were busy playing with toys, the parents turned their eyes on me immediately, glaring. I found her parents, slightly wary, but greeting us warmly all the same. I started peeling pieces of my armor, starting with the shoulder pieces before I could work on removing the core centerpiece that would allow everything else to slide right off.

"Ian!"I could hear Beatrice cry as she rushed towards us, ignoring the armor I was wearing and hugging me tightly. "Where were you? We were all worried sick!"

"It's a long story," I admitted, but she looked right into my eyes, tearing up. 

"You rescued them, you rescued my daughter, didn't you? You have no idea how thankful we are for what you've done." 

Hayley moved by my side, placing her hand on my shoulder and smiling. 

"Yeah, I think we need to properly thank you for that."

"It's alright, now I just need to find my parents, and then -"

"Ian," Beatrice interrupted, her earlier excitement gone, "we don't know where they are."

"What?" All the optimism drained from my body.

"They got arrested just a few days ago, when they couldn't account for you. They arrested a lot of people, we thought it would be better to stay here and not make any trouble. We tried speaking out about it, but they told us we would be next..."

"Then we'll go to the prison, we'll free them. There's no real law enforcement here now, is there?" Even if there was, I was going to stroll right up to the damn building and pry the doors off myself if it meant getting them out of there. 

"That's the thing Ian: there's nobody left inside the prison. It was emptied even before all of this started. They made a big televised event documenting it."

"Can you tell me where you think they were taken? Anything?" I asked, pleading. I could see the tears roll down from her face, and I could see the other families staring right at this exchange, their children no longer playing with their toys and doing the same. 

"I can't. I'm so sorry."

I kept the rest of my armor on, putting back what little pieces were taken off in the first place. I couldn't stop my own tears from falling down my cheek. The bastard took them. He could have taken them anywhere on the damn planet!

"Ian wait," Aaron interjected, placing himself between me and the front door, "let's think about this for a second. Let's just sleep it out, we can think about what to do in the morning."

"They took them, just like they took you. You know what that felt like...there's no waiting."

"Then we're coming with you," Hayley cut in, but she badly needed to rest more than anybody else in this room, "we lost you once, I don't want to lose you again."

It really didn't matter what I wanted to say next, because from outside the windows we could see an explosion erupt on the far side of Oceyron, followed quickly by many more of them, each detonation moving closer and closer to the center of the city itself. I barged out of the door, my rifle already in my hands, Aaron and Hayley right alongside me. 

The object above our heads was enormous, even bigger than the Leviathan. It looked horrible and scarred in the darkness, like it was crudely welded together, but it was just so huge that it hardly mattered. It cast a long shadow across the entire city, and it wasn't long before we discovered the source of the explosions; several pods fired from the main body itself, each one of them larger than any vehicle. They struck the ground, and buildings collapsed instantly and they were covered in flame and debris. 

I grabbed Hayley while Aaron helped everybody else through the door, fleeing from the terror, aiming for Nine-Nine and what was left of the Synthetics.