Renegades One-Shots

The End

Summary: Nova actually wasn't Nightmare but no one believed her, the real Nightmare didn't care enough to save her. Genissa gets her execution. This takes place when Adrien came to interrogate her.

Nova was terrified to say the least. She had no clue what was happening. They arrested her, took her bracelet, and threw her in jail saying she was, Nightmare. She was a loyal renegade. She knew everyone would believe them which meant she would be neutralized and probably stuck in this cell for the rest of her life because she was a dangerous criminal. The worst part was her uncle was really sick and dying, he might die and she'd never get to say goodbye. She still couldn't believe they didn't trust her after everything she did for them, maybe the Anarchists were right. No, she scolded herself, they bring death and destruction. Right? The next few weeks happened so slowly. In the morning, at what exact time she couldn't say, the prison cells were lowered to the ground floor and, one by one, the bars were opened and the guards on duty shouted at the prisoners to come out of their cells and get in line. They were always shouting, even though Nova had only witnessed the inmates being perfectly compliant. She wondered why no one ever lost their voice.

They were then marched out of the cell block and into what they called the sanitation room, where they were given ninety seconds to shower under cold water and sixty seconds to brush their teeth and comb their hair in front of a trough of sinks. Once a week they were given freshly laundered jumpsuits.

They then had twenty minutes to "stretch their legs" in the yard, though most of the inmates stayed in groups by the wall to avoid the mud. It was almost always raining—a cold, misty drizzle—and even when it wasn't, the wind cut through their jumpsuits like daggers. Nova didn't speak with anyone, not only because the guards were always watching and she had the distinct impression that conversation on the yard was discouraged, but also because, when she did dare to approach another prisoner, they always gave her a scornful look and turned their back on her. It hadn't taken many rejections before Nova decided she was better off keeping to herself anyway. She didn't know where the universal contempt for her originated, whether it was because they knew she actually had, or maybe still has, Renegade loyalties. She didn't care, or at least that's what she told herself. She was getting used to being alone.

After the brief recreation time, they were served their only meal of the day inside a cafeteria where the narrow tables and stools were all bolted to the floor, and the kitchen was kept behind a stone wall, with only a narrow slot through which they could slide out trays of food.

The quality of the food was exactly what Nova had expected. Which was to say, not much worse than what she'd consumed on a regular basis since she used to have to steal most of her food. Most days the meal consisted of a roll of hard bread, an unrecognizable vegetable cooked down to mush, a baked potato, and fish. Nova didn't know what kind of fish, but she guessed it was whatever the cooks could get for cheap. On Sundays, if the prisoner had gone the week without trouble, they were also allowed a sliver of cheese.

Then they were sent back to their cells, roughly two hours after they'd been released, to pass the rest of the day in quiet isolation until lights-out. A few prisoners who had been there long enough to earn some amount of trust were sent to work in the laundry or the kitchen. At first this had seemed like extra punishment, but it didn't take long for Nova to recognize that the long hours of solitude were far worse.

For the first time in her life, Nova's inability to sleep felt far more like a curse than a gift. What she wouldn't have given to spend eight fewer hours every night alone with her spinning thoughts.

And so the days passed by, monotonous and unbearably dull. The guards came and let her out to go brush her teeth and comb her hair. She was in the middle of brushing her teeth when a guard came and barked, "Seven-nine-two."