:| |: Below Z3r-0 :| |: - ( An Original Story )

[ Chapter One ]

 I've heard stories about Man living on the surface. Vibrant green grass and salty oceans that held all kinds of life. Trees that could reach the clouds and mountains that poked through the atmosphere. But, of course, this was where people used to live. Out of nowhere, two-hundred years ago, a dense gloom formed over the Atlantic Ocean, spreading across the world as it grew bigger, more dangerous.

People called this cloud 'Z3r-0'. Pronounced as 'Zero'. Unless of course, you're in school, when you have to refer to it as Z-3-r-0. Which was one of the many, many rules our community had. This cloud blocked the sun from the ground, making the world become a frozen wasteland- nothing but snow and ice covered the floor in thick layers. 

We tried once to take a small piece of this ice to research, retrieved by one of the retired Recruits. But, of course, with our home being underground with heating and all that, it didn't last long.

They took the ice to the lab, which was near the engine room- the room which powered all of our lights and utilities. The ice melted, turned to steam, and released a dense concentration of methane and ammonia gasses which eventually lead to us having to close off the lab to seal the poison inside.

We lost... several people during that time. My uncle was one of them. He was one of the few people who were able to do any job no matter what. Of course, being the wanna-be-hero he was, rushed in to help anyone he could to get out. He saved a few, but they died within days anyway. It was a lost cause from the beginning, yet he didn't listen. 

Here in Sanctuary-- our community name--, you were born to work and work until you grew too old, and then you worked even more as an instructor for the younger apprentices to make sure they had their shit together. It was how things went here in Sanctuary for as long as I could remember-- you did your job, you were able to be trusted with more important jobs. The worst you did, the worst your new job became.

How do I know this? 

Well..., You could say I'm not the most trusted individual here.

"Gregory!"

I tossed papers over my open journal, standing straight with my head high, just like I was taught. "Yessir!"

"What is God's name are you doing in here?!" He glanced over to the vegetable garden next to me. "You haven't done anything!"

I scoffed to myself and rolled my eyes as he stomped over, picking up the shears on the table and pointed them at my face. His eyes glanced down at the table next to me, making my eyes follow.

'Shit, I didn't cover them all the way. Now I have to listen to this again... Great...'

He reached over and pulled the papers off of my journal, making me groan. He held up my book in front of me. "You're about this close to being demoted again! Do you hear me? This is the fifth time in three days." He threw my journal down on the table, crinkling the pages.

I scowled and away. Anything was better than looking at his ugly glasses-ridden face. 

"You know, for someone not very much older than me, you sure like to boss me around--."

"Gregory!"

My eyes peeked down to meet his irritated stare. My eyes narrowed into a glare as I stared at his craked lenses. "Yes, Mr. Green?" 

He lowered the shears from my vision and slammed them down on the table, "Get. These. Done!" His tone was harsh as he spoke to me-- How anyone really spoke to me if I'm being honest. He turned around and walked away, his white lab coat floating behind his skinny stature.