"If you're lucky to have the finest of genes, then you're perfect."
Paragon is known to be the haven of perfection. A society built on walls, dividing different cities for people with different genetic levels.
Perfect citizens will be automatically...
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The fleeting hues of the sun paint the sky with burning colors and set the thin strips of clouds on fire. The cascades of light is breathtaking, magical perhaps. Scarville, in all angles, surely contains no beauty in it but when the sun dips itself below the horizon, the spotlight shining over the decrepit features of our city makes this place a little better. It's the only moment where living in this place becomes worthwhile.
It's almost time. I'm starting to wonder if the message I read earlier is just a practical joke or written straight out of boredom. Real or not, it doesn't matter, because I'm already here in Scrapyard, waiting for this mysterious M to appear.
Mountains of wasted mechanical materials and scrap metals sit in front of me. It's not unusual to see if you've been here for so long. This is also where I've salvaged the parts to create the fake pod which clearly did not go as planned.
I am skeptical and antsy about this whole thing but for some reason, what I’m really scared about is having no idea how to react if somebody's actually going to show up. I’m clueless if that paper is meant for someone else or maybe I just boldly assumed that it's for me. Either way, if the owner is going to be here, I will be able to return this bag with my most sincere gratitude.
Half an hour has passed and I still got no sign of anyone. I'm starting to grow impatient so I think leaving now will be a good idea. Never did I like the act of waiting for nothing, I mean, who wants that?
Shortly after deciding to finally head out, a silhouette stretches down from afar. It takes a handful of minutes for my eyes to adjust through the thickening darkness, but when it does, I see an unfamiliar woman drawing in. She looks younger than me, and even if a baggy hoodie covers most of her body, her ghastly-white skin still stands out so prominent as though she hasn't seen the sun for years.
She pauses a meter away from my spot and shoots a gaze at me. She glances to the right, and to the left, then back at me before opening up her perfectly heart sjaped lips.
"Hey, handsome. You’re Cole Lancer, right?"
I raise my eyebrows. "Yeah, that's my name. How did you know? Do I know you?"
"This not the place to discuss that. Come on, follow me,” the woman strides back from where she came from and stops eventually after two or three steps to look back at my addled face. "You comin' or what?"
I nod without even being fully aware of my response. This girl can be a dangerous asset and yet I'm willingly and casually walking behind her trail.
Trustworthy? Uncertain.
Pretty? Yes.
I shake my head to clear the thought out of my mind. I shouldn’t be thinking that way. She can be a threat. I shouldn’t be following her around.
