Synchronicity: Floating City

Kyo toki-sei: Tenku no shi (part 3)

 I was dragged on to my feet. I kicked my rod up into the air and then caught it with my left hand. I shortened the rod and then strapped it back on to my forearm. The human soldiers that were half dragging  me stopped and threw a startled look to each other, then to Mykuo who had his crossed in front of his chest.

“Confiscate her rod,” he ordered.

The soilder on my left did a salute and then ordered the solider on my right to do so.

 “Forget it, just take her to the back of the truck,” He said.

I let them drag me to the back of the truck and push me in. I’d closed my eyes as the back of the truck closed behind me, trapping me into the darkness. I knelt there, my hand gripped harder on to the rod as I tried to recall my father’s face. It was impossible after thirteen years of separation, but his last words seemed to echo in my head every time I thought of him.

“You are a very special person and I am sorry that I’m doing this to you. Be strong and promise that you’ll never give up no matter how much it takes. Run away and fight with all your might and never let the military soldiers get you.”

Those were his last words as he turned and left me standing outside the orphanage, a rod strapped to my left forearm.

I sat there in the darkness, confused with myself. Who am I and what’s the point of my existence? Those questions will always leave unanswered. Where am I going doesn’t really matter. Who I am doesn’t matter anymore. My goal was to get revenge for all those innocent girls who were mistaken as me. They were taken away from their homes and many were disposed for being fake. I would also revenge for all those innocent people who are forced into labour and serve the wicked military leader.

Suddenly the back of the truck screeched open, pools of light blinded my vision. Then three robotic decoys pulled me on to my feet. The rod pulsed with energy and the decoys completely ignored the rod.

The next moment I was thrown into a cell. It was dark and mouldy. The only light source was the tiny skylight high up in the back wall. Black liquid dripped from the ceiling then there were the sound of coughing, echoing from all three walls.

‘Hello?” my voice echoed

There was more coughing.

I followed the sound of the coughing and in the darkest corner, sat a weary middle aged woman. She was wearing a long faded eighteenth century Victorian dress and in her hands was a blood drenched hand-kerchief.

I feel on to my knees, a hand over her boiling forehead. She was sweating badly and her face was pale under the dim light.

“Rina?” She murmured.