CRONUS

Part 2: I Will Not Give Up

The stacks of houses and shops go up four stories on both sides of the bustling street. Holographic ads for fights, bars and eateries burst with bright neon colors, lighting the walkway and faces of everyone around us. A few ads feature the classic anti-Mhinto propaganda. An over-sized, projected propaganda ad, high above the end of the street displays the enemy country with snakes being trampled on by a heroic Cronus soldier. The words "Destroy the Mhinto Empire'' pulsate above the soldier's head as he clutches our red and golden flag. Several people in the crowd wear shirts that match the flag's colors and feature phrases worshiping the Cronus government.

A fusion of pungent curry and savory bean dishes fill the air from the endless food stalls on each side of the street. With it though, is an acrid stench from the expired government rations. The scent doesn't bother me. In a way, I find great comfort in the rotten smell that seems to exist in every corner of the Sectors.

It's the smell of home.

A wave of heat hits my cold cheeks as I feel myself getting annoyed. This place used to be home. My jaw tightens as I think about having to move to the other side of the mountain in the Elite and my damn brother who forced us there.

I force the anger away as Nick and I navigate through the crowd.

A few people spot us and nod silently. Others simply hurry away. They aren't noticing me as we walk past them. They notice him. In recent years, people have either avoided Nick entirely or treated him like a god. Perks of working for one of the Sector's most powerful crime groups.

"How's your shoulder?" He turns and glances at me, ignoring people who detect us.

"It's fine," I lie.

He frowns at me, knowing I'm just brushing him off.

"Seriously. Try once in a while not to worry about me, Nick," I insist.

"You know that's impossible," he chuckles.

"I'm fine."

Turning to the left, we approach the best pot pie stall in the entire city. The shopkeeper, Sani, waits patiently for customers to approach. His smile looks empty and desperate as he watches the endless crowd pass by his shop, going to all the other eateries, and leaving his tables empty.

As we walk to the register, Sani's smile suddenly brightens. Smears of his pink lipstick mark his yellowing teeth, but his smile is truly genuine.

"My favorite customer!" Sani greets me.

"I'm your only customer."

He shakes his head laughing.

"Hello Mr. Larsen." Sani turns and addresses him formally the way he always does, with a nervous smile.

"Call me Nick, Sani." He frowns, correcting him for the millionth time. "Everyone calls me Nick."

Rolling my eyes, I find a small place in the back corner, closest to the building behind the pot pie stall. I take the ice off of my numb cheek and slink back in the chair, feeling all my muscles give up. I've grown accustomed to the fatigued feeling that always takes over my body after a fight, but I feel the exhaustion even more tonight.

"Hungry Mr. Larsen?" I ask him with a hint of a smirk as he sits down across from me.

"Well." He leans forward with a fake smile. "For terrible pot pie? No." His face drops and he groans. "Don't know why you like this place so much."

"It has many great qualities, Mr. Larsen. The customer service, for one." My smirk grows into a full grin as I tease him. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back. As he stares at me, taking in the sight of my messy appearance, his lips curl into a soft smile.