Midnight Elysium

Chapter 3: Vitalis

"Isaac, did you hear that?!"

A mouse-like voice half out of breath rang sharp from the boy's door. He had only just finished cooking a pot of stew for his mother, and so poured its contents into her plate before rushing out to meet his friend.

"Hear what?"

"That." Vincent pointed to the worn-out speakers plastered high above them.

"Remember. Because you have never truly forgotten."

Isaac's chest tightened and a feverish chill washed over him.

Silence.

Then, it blared a terrible noise. A mix of static and tinnitus. The boys covered their ears, which might have bled had they not. Isaac's thoughts rushed back to his brief conversation with his father a few hours ago, and to the strange object he entrusted him with.

The speakers went silent. The next moment, sirens blared. Sirens deep and unforgiving, as if signaling the end of the world.

Vince turned to Isaac. "That was your dad... wasn't it?"

Isaac clutched the strange object which he had threaded and worn around his neck. His heart beat like the incessant gait of a million horses.

Eyes ajar, a grim realization crawled under his skin. He stood, stabilizing himself with great effort, and practically glided back into his house.

The cold stew sat untouched; the chair abandoned. Silence draped the dimly lit room in its suffocating embrace. The pungent odor of sweat and mold was all he could smell as he fell to his knees next to the lifeless body of his mother swaying with the frigid evening wind.

***

The incident that took place at the Lincoln was classified by the Grand Authority as a national tragedy and a crime against humanity. The man's family was not pursued or punished, for the rumor had spread that the man had hidden his ties to the Russians and the Chinese from his family. But alas, rumors are a fragile thing. Some of those who heard those words that fateful day would have their lives completely galvanized from thence on. A new idea had been planted into the minds of a few, and a new philosophy of doubt began to bloom.

Most of the new followers of the deceased patriot were passive spectators, never going much further than discussing and debating the inequality of their circumstances. But those who did not hesitate to take action upon their convictions banded together in order to actualize real change. To the vast populace, they came to be known as Crows, for they hid in plain sight amongst the masses.

"Did he eat anything today?"

"I don't know..."

"Vince, come on. It was not you who lost your entire family in a single day. You need to get over it. You did not know what would've happened."

"That's just it. I didn't know. I know nothing." Vince kicked a rock at his feet. "Isaac always told me that he wanted to join the military. To explore. To save the world. But he's changed. I no longer see that spark in his eye. He just sits crawled up in his house all day. He barely even talks to us anymore."

"I know. But it isn't your fault."

"How is it not?!" Vince grabbed Amelia's shoulders and stared right at her. "How can you look me in the eye and tell me that my actions did not cause him to look away from his mother? His expecting mother, Ame!"