He pressed himself against the wall, trying to steady his breathing. The ground beneath him groaned, a sharp reminder of the fragile state of the entire building. He couldn’t afford to stop now—not when so much was at stake.Pushing forward, Enzo reached a junction where the stairs split into multiple paths. Consulting his mental map of the city’s layout, he chose the left corridor, knowing it led directly to the control room.As he advanced, the air grew colder, and the flickering lights overhead cast dark shadows.Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his side. Enzo stumbled, clutching his rib as he gasped for breath. He had hit a loose beam that swung down unexpectedly, narrowly missing his head but cutting through his torso.Blood trickled from a small cut, staining his shirt. Ignoring the pain, he pressed on, his strong will fueling his determination.The corridor opened into a vast, open space—the control room. The room was a chaotic mess of shattered consoles, broken screens, and
As I fix my gaze on the ceiling of my prison cell, I notice the ceiling covered with dust and cobwebs. Tears stream down my face, wetting my hair, as I reflect on the torment that has plagued my existence. It has been an endless agony, a series of traumatic experiences. In the depths of my mind, I silently question, “Why, mother?” Even with blood trickling from my forehead, I am numb to any physical pain, or perhaps the pain is overshadowed by the weight of my emotional anguish. I feel sorry for my ignorance, as since we learned to walk, they fed us nothing but lies. ... Time to time, scientists have stumbled upon evidence suggesting that our world is not the only one in the galaxy. Some even propose the existence of hundreds of other worlds in different galaxies. However, uncertainty still hangs in the air. These theories speculate about the possibility of extraterrestrial life or other extraordinary beings that are as alive as we are, yet fundamentally different. The idea of
You get what I’m saying, right? Let me break it down for you. Type B, they’re like these mysterious beings, like ghosts that you can’t see or catch. We’ve all heard stories about them, and we even call them the unseen. The only time you can actually see them is when they choose to reveal themselves, but anyone who lays eyes on them meets a terrible fate. Type C has been training Type A and Type C tirelessly to fight against these unseen creatures, hoping to find a way to defeat them. There are only two known ways to kill them. First, you have to be super fast, because they move faster than light. I’m not entirely sure about this, though. The second way is when they decide to show themselves, but even then, it seems impossible to take them down. And just to be clear, when I talk about “Training Type A and Type C,” I definitely don’t mean women. Despite having advanced technology, their way of thinking is far from progressive. Only a few women, like maybe two or three, hold position
I never really paid attention to what my mom said, not because I hated her or anything, but because I knew there was no way anyone could see me practicing on the rooftop. Our living space was like a long, narrow hostel or maybe even a prison. Behind us, a huge chunk of land floated high up in the sky, making it impossible for someone me or any other human being to reach it. Right in front of our home was the backside of this massive building, a Type C structure with shiny, thick bricks stacked up high. I had no idea what they were made of. On one side, there was a deep, dark void that seemed to stretch on forever, and on the other side, there were these tiny houses that looked tiny compared to the grandeur of my own building. That's why we called our place the Quadragenatorium, or QGT for short. So, you see, I had no reason to listen to my mom's warnings. As soon as she left, I took a look around my messy room and thought about how strange it was that women were only allowed to dec
However, this was not the reason he called out to me. He had probably forgotten my face by now. The reason he called out was because he saw me slip on the railing. Unfortunately, he lost sight of me when a girl passed a towel to another girl, and he couldn't find me anymore. Taking advantage of the situation, I managed to sneak past the crowd and quickly made my way to the bathroom before anyone else. "I can't even begin to explain how much I missed this!" I exclaimed as I stood under the hot shower, enjoying the soothing sensation of the water cascading down my skin. But my moment of relaxation was abruptly interrupted by a loud knock on the door. Startled, I hurriedly rinsed off the remaining soap foam and hastily left the bathroom. Initially, we were required to come out in our towels for measurements, which were used to track our growth. Based on these measurements, we were then given multivitamins and specific foods to aid in our growth. After the measurements were done, I was
In the stillness of the night, I find solace and freedom. With each daring move, my creativity and courage shine through. The sword becomes an extension of my being, a vessel for my strength and power. As I gracefully land from a complex maneuver, I whisper to myself, "I am prepared. Prepared to face any obstacle, ready to confront anyone who stands in my way!" On this rooftop, under the setting sun, I embody strength and resilience. My spirit burns brightly, a guiding light in the darkness, as I prepare myself for the battles that await. After my training, I take a moment to close my eyes and breathe deeply, savoring the freedom that only the open sky can offer. The gentle breeze dances with my hair, reminding me of the last remnants of nature in this world. Lost in the tranquility, something brushes against my arm, causing me to gasp and turn around. A soft and gentle voice, belonging to a man, whispers in my ear, "Did I startle you?" Startled, I take a step back, scanning my su
"Please, go on," I encouraged. "Sadly, Sprite Harbor was a place where daughters were treated as mere commodities, but not by the residents themselves. It was a strange situation where families mostly had daughters, while sons were a rarity. Once these daughters turned 10, they would be taken away and never seen again. Then, one fateful day, an officer and his army invaded our land. They came with their tractors, destroying our crops, and were heavily armed," he narrated. "When my great great grandfather heard the chaos, he hurried outside. At first, nobody knew their intentions, but it soon became clear that they had discovered that my great-great-grandfather was hiding a daughter in the village. During the argument, they noticed someone peeking from behind a curtain and immediately sent their army to capture whoever was peeking. It was a little kid, they forcefully took the 3-year-old kid named Elijah and held a gun to his head, demanding to see the girl." "Eventually, the girl
"She’s always been like this, ever since I reached an age where I could understand things!” I said. “I’m sorry that you had to go through so much because of them, and I apologize for misunderstanding all of you for such a long time.” I whispered as his hand gently touched my shoulder. My eyes widened; it was fascinating to see how they had lived such different lives, even in hiding. I can only imagine the immense challenges they must have faced. We sat together in silence, or maybe he wasn’t even sitting at all or maybe he wasn’t there anymore. All I know is that he answered most of my questions. The only thing that still troubled me was a strange longing to see him, to truly know him. I knew it could potentially put him in danger, but the heart wants what it wants. “What’s your name?” I asked. “Jarred, they call me Jarred!” he replied. “I’m Zaria, Zaria Dove!” I introduced myself. And that was just the beginning; we talked for hours until I eventually fell asleep right there. T