chapter 2

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Our wedding delegation moved slowly through the corridors of the bunker, like a caravan of zombies in search of brains for dinner. We walked like ghosts among the ruins of a former civilization. Every step I took echoed as if someone was whispering: "Don't trip over your hopes." There was silence all around, broken only by the creaking of our footsteps and the occasional sneeze, which made everyone think that the end of the world had come again. The walls of the bunker were hung with peeling paint, like an old man's skin, and the air was saturated with the smell of rust and mold, reminding us that even mushrooms have found a way to survive better than us. We passed by long-forgotten rooms where you could still see the remains of old posters promising a bright future that never came. "Work strengthens!" one of them shouted, but the only thing that strengthened was our confidence in the futility of efforts. The torchlight cast shadows on the walls, turning everyday objects into monstrous monsters. In one of the halls where children had once laughed, there were now broken toys, and each of them seemed to be a witness to past tragedies, like little plastic lawyers ready to sue fate. My procession stopped at the massive door leading to the inner sanctums of the bunker. Here, in the very heart of the underground shelter, they organized a hall decorated with flickering candles and covered with artificial flower petals. It was a reminder that even in a world where tomorrow is not promised, people are still looking for beauty and love...

My heart was pounding like a mad drummer's in anticipation of this crazy event. After all, my fate is about to be decided. It depends on my choice whether I will nibble canned food alone or share it with someone else. This... Well, actually, it's pretty trashy.

–Breathe,– the old shaman reminded me and stopped in the center of the hall, as if he had forgotten what to do next. I had to go on by myself, as if I had a choice.

There were six men in front of me, all of them as a selection – tall, broad-shouldered, dark-skinned... Except for one pale giant who looked like he had just escaped from a cloning lab. And all of them, as if to order, have scars, as if they had just finished a fight over the last can of stew.

I had to remember all the self-control exercises that I was taught so as not to run away screaming. But I still took the first step – right into a puddle of radioactive water.

– Elisandra!  The old shaman hissed, and I thought: "That's it, it's about to start."

The first guy was so ugly that even a goddess would have turned away. But I took a step. One more. And more. Until she was within range of his scent. Now he had to give his name and clan. According to the rules of the ritual, the applicants could speak, but I could not. But I could touch. But they don't. Although, to be honest, I didn't want to touch him for the world.

–Lord Max of the Dwin clan, child of the wasteland," he introduced himself. "I walked for two days and three nights to see the beautiful flower of Ash Mountain. And you didn't disappoint me.

His mawkish speech was as cloying as his appearance. He opened his mouth to say something else, but I abruptly stepped aside, standing directly in front of the second applicant. The old man's indignant sigh was heard behind him. Is it good to cheat on your future husband? Let him know right away that the bride has a character!

–Oleg is from the Turbin clan," the second introduced himself. His voice was pleasant and he looked normal until he said, "Lord of the Western Wastelands."

Oh, damn it! Not the wastelands! My gift hadn't been revealed yet, but I already knew that it was worth staying away from the animals, which were a dime a dozen there. When I turned five, the locals gave me a rat. I named the pet Baron Raw Food. Two months later, the Raw-eating Baron became the size of me. After five years, he outgrew the old shaman. And eight years later he turned into such a monster that the locals came up with a horror story about him.

In general, everything ended badly for the Raw Food Baron. But for me, it has just begun. Since then, I've only been given rats. A year later, four hundred pounds of meat were taken away. They even came up with a holiday. And I really wanted a doll! Or an enchanted music box. Eh... And what happens when the gift is fully revealed? No, no, I definitely can't live among animals.

Pursing her lips, she walked past Oleg and approached the third lord. According to my status and traditions, only lords were supposed to be.

"Call me Erickson, beautiful daughter of the goddess,– muttered a tall guy with eyes like a nocturnal predator. All the men here are like from an underground bunker, and this clown with an earring in his nose, by God! Moreover, she dangles like a pendulum of fate. If it weren't for her perpetual motion, I might have bothered to listen to his last name. But okay, I'll go to the next freak.

And the fourth one is generally a separate song. A bright red vest on his bare torso and red trousers, as if he had just escaped from the Sand Dunes.

–Ignat of the Reinhard clan,– he said. And here you are: for the first time I wanted to touch a man. Not that he was my type... I'm still thinking. But his skin, dark as a night without stars, green eyes glowing like radioactive waste, and ash-white hair longer than the queue for water, aroused interest. This is a copy!

I reached for his forearm, where there was a green snake tattoo, and almost froze. His gaze made me sweat. It became hot as in a nuclear desert, and an inner voice screamed: "It's not worth it!"

–Lord Antoine of the Andromeda clan," the fifth blurted out, showing his teeth like pearls from the old world. The "AA" lord. Lucky, rich, handsome. Well, handsome, yes. You look into his eyes, like into the ocean after an oil disaster, and you drown. I wonder what the living conditions of the Andromeda clan are? Windy, I think. And there are probably only winds in this handsome man's head, too. You can see it in your eyes.
But he has plenty of conceit. He looked at me like I was the last burger in a post-apocalyptic world, and lingered on my chest like it was a treasure map. And he bit his lip.

"Yes, the shamans didn't lie," he said lazily and defiantly. – This time, a truly unsurpassed daughter of the goddess was born. Choose me, daughter of chaos, and I will give you something you dare not even dream of.

Wow, so he knows my secrets too? I raised an eyebrow in surprise and moved closer to Antoine. I just wanted to check if his freckles were real or if they were traces of radiation. After all, local survivors used to do this – fashion, motherfucker. But no, it's all real. Except, perhaps, a sense of tact.

Taking advantage of the moment, he reached out and ran his finger over my stomach. So quiet that even the old shaman with his radar eyes didn't notice. But I felt it!

"I know exactly how to make you forget about everything in the world," he whispered, leaning so close to me that I almost choked on the smell of his last meal.

To the right, from the side of the sixth lord, a hoarse sound was heard, more like the roar of a mutant. Personally, I wanted to publish something like: "Fuck off, piece of meat!". But you can't. But you can still touch it.

I put my hand on Lord Antoine's cheek, lightly stroked his perfectly shaven skin, and when he stuck out his tongue to lick my palm, I couldn't stand it. She slapped him. I wish the sound wasn't so loud, but it also echoed throughout the ritual hall. And the hall, by the way, is huge, like half of a ruined city.

Oh, and the boorish lord didn't like it. His ocean-like eyes narrowed, muscles clenched in his jaw, and his lips tightened as if he were holding back not swearing, but radiation sickness. I think the old shaman is too.

Overall, I was happy. And she went on with it. Now it was Lord Antoine who made a roar-like sound.

The last contender for my innocence, gift and life, as I immediately noted, stood out strongly. I got the impression that he didn't belong here at all. Compared to the pretentious Lord Antoine or even the barbarian from the Sand Dunes, this one looked like a real savage. It's just amazing that he showed up to the wedding ritual in torn clothes with a gun and two days of stubble. As if he didn't give a damn about all these traditions...

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