The Dream of a Lost Childhood

𝟎𝟐 ~ 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐨𝐦𝐛𝐬

𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚'𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐯

Astrea woke to the sound of sirens blaring, the high-pitched wail echoing through the cold, gray corridors of the Nova Imperium compound. She sat up in her narrow bed, her heart pounding. It was the same every morning—an early reminder of the perpetual state of war they lived in.

She rubbed her eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. She could hear harsh screams echoing in the halls, most likely belonging to her father. A high-ranking officer in the Nova Imperium, his cold, unyielding demeanor mirrored the iron fist with which the Imperium ruled. Astrea had learned to navigate his wrath, to obey without question, and to suppress the spark of rebellion that still flickered within her.

She dressed quickly in the standard uniform—dark, utilitarian, and devoid of any individuality. The star patch on the sleeve marked her role: not just a soldier, but a slave to the Imperium. As she stepped into the corridor, she fell in line with the other young recruits, all moving with mechanical precision towards the training grounds. The compound was a stark contrast to the vibrant world of her childhood. Steel walls, barbed wire, and armed guards at every corner.

There was no room for softness here, no place for dreams.

Training was grueling, designed to break them down and build them back up as loyal soldiers of the Imperium. Astrea excelled, not out of loyalty, but out of a need to survive. Many of her comrades feared her and what she could do. She had learned to mask her true feelings, to hide her contempt for the Imperium behind a mask of obedience.

The training grounds were filled with the sound of gunfire and the shouts of instructors. Astrea joined her squad, led by Sergeant Kira, a fierce and demanding officer known for her no-nonsense attitude. Beside her was Jackson, a fellow recruit with sharp eyes and a quicker wit. They had formed an unspoken bond, a mutual understanding that they were both trapped in the same unforgiving machine.

"Move it, Astrea!" Kira barked. "Your form is sloppy. Again!"

Astrea reset her stance and fired her rifle, hitting the target dead center. Kira grunted in approval. "Better. Now, keep that up."

Jackson smirked at her. "Always showing off, aren't you?"

Astrea rolled her eyes but couldn't help a small smile. "Just trying to survive, Jackson."

"Survive and thrive," he replied, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "You know, if you ever get tired of being a perfect soldier, we could always escape together. Find a nice, quiet place far from here."

"Tempting," she said, "but I don't think they'd let us go that easily."

Jackson shrugged. "One can dream."

The day's training continued with hand-to-hand combat drills, endurance runs, and tactical exercises. By the end of it, Astrea was exhausted but not defeated. She knew that showing any sign of weakness could be dangerous.

After the drills, Astrea and Jackson found a moment to rest. They sat on a bench near the edge of the training grounds, their muscles aching from the day's exertion.

"You ever think about what you'd do if you weren't here?" Jackson asked, staring at the distant horizon.

Astrea thought for a moment, then nodded. "Sometimes. I used to dream about it a lot when I was younger. I wanted to be an artist, to create something beautiful instead of just destruction."

Jackson looked at her, surprised. "An artist? I never knew that about you."

Astrea shrugged. "Not much room for dreams here, remember?"

Jackson sighed. "Yeah, I get it. But maybe one day, when this is all over, we can find a way out. You could paint, and I could... I don't know, do something that doesn't involve shooting people."

Astrea smiled wistfully. "Maybe. One day."

Today, however, something felt different. The whispers among the recruits were more urgent, the atmosphere more charged. As they gathered for the morning briefing, she noticed her father, General Marin, standing at the front, his stern face even more severe than usual.

"Today, we face a new threat," he began, his voice cold and commanding. "The Libera Collective has grown bolder. They have infiltrated our defenses, and we must root them out. We cannot afford to show any weakness."

Astrea's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the Libera Collective. She had heard rumors of the rebellion, of their fight against the tyranny of the Nova Imperium. A flicker of hope ignited within her—could they be the key to her escape?

As the briefing ended, Astrea was approached by a familiar figure—Captain Darius, one of her father's most trusted officers. "Astrea, you are to report to the command center immediately." She nodded, hiding her curiosity. The command center was usually off-limits to recruits. What could they want with her?

When she arrived, the tension in the room was palpable. Her father stood with a group of high-ranking officers, their expressions grim. A holographic map of Nova Terra was projected in the center, with several red dots indicating Libera Collective activity.

"Astrea," her father said, his voice devoid of any fatherly warmth. "We have intercepted communications that suggest the Libera Collective is planning a significant operation. We need someone who can move unnoticed, someone they wouldn't suspect."

She realized with a jolt that they were asking her to spy on the rebellion. Her heart raced. This could be the opportunity she had been waiting for. But she had to play her part perfectly.

"I understand, sir," she replied, her voice steady. "I will do whatever is necessary to protect the Imperium." Her father nodded, a rare glint of approval in his eyes.

"Good. We will provide you with further instructions later. Dismissed."

As she walked back to her quarters, her mind raced with possibilities. This mission could be her chance to find the Libera Collective, to join them and fight back against the Imperium. But she had to be careful. One misstep, and her father would see through her façade.

That night, as she lay in bed, Astrea heard the familiar rhythm of their secret knock on her door. Her heart lifted as her brother Orin entered, a comforting presence in the dim light. She smiled warmly and patted the bed beside her, inviting him to sit.

"So, I hear father is giving you a mission?" he began softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah, I'm excited," she replied quickly, her voice tinged with both anticipation and nervousness. Orin wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a side hug, and gently kissed the top of her head. "I'm proud of you, Starlight. I know you can do it."

Astrea's heart swelled with gratitude and love. She hugged him tighter, savoring the rare moment of warmth and connection. As Orin rose to leave, she watched him with a mixture of determination and longing, his words echoing in her mind long after he had left the room.

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𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟏𝟔𝟖