"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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"Mistress, are we different?" asks the little girl whose face has been designed with an aluminium plating to cover a portion of her cheeks. She's sitting next to Cole but they barely interact.
"Honey, of course you are," the teacher, dressed in a tailored maroon skirt suit heavily embroidered with modern intricate details, says with a fake curve on her lips. Too stretched. Too forced. "Every student here at school has flaws. Flaws that make you faulty, dirty, and impure."
"Am I a filth then?" the boy in the front row inquires, shamefully hiding his prosthetic arm behind his back.
"Oh, no. Don't think of that, little boy. You were just..." The mistress walks closer to the kid. "...unlucky. But that's why you're here. In order to be perfect again like your parents."
Cole's classmates immediately turn their heads at the lady, attracted by the words of encouragement she just spat. He did too, but their teacher's emphatic appearance distracts his full attention. Her uniform is not the only thing that is preeminent about her looks, but also her impeccably coiffed up hair which is strictly required for every mistresses in the school grounds. It looks neat and well-groomed yet so eerily organized.
"Perfection is a painful process, kids. Keep that in mind. Others are striving for it in the fifth city, they're dying for it!" she says, walking back again to her desk in front.
"The Scarville?" Cole asks.
She fastens her attention at him with her eyes agape, and grins. It widens into a chill, slitted smile as she stands still. Morbid. Horrifying. Creepy enough to haunt anyone in their dreams.
"You're right, sweetie, Scarville's the name. The thing is, even if your parents are already perfect, having a defect is still inevitable," she sighs heavily and averts her eyes from her students. She brings up a disconcerted look which Cole recognizes to be nothing but a mere facade. His classmates still bought it.
Stupid, he thinks to himself.
The room becomes silent for a second until someone decides to break it.
"But mistress," another girl raises her hand for a query. "It's possible for the defectives to be born outside the Evermore, right? Do they get the same treatment too?"
The mistress shakes her head, "No, no, no, darling. Don't confuse yourself. Haven't we tackled about this already?"
"I'm sorry...I forgot about it," here comes the reply, accompanied by a faint of guilt hidden in her giggle.
"Fine, all ears on me. Defectives are flawed people from Evermore who had been given another chance to become perfect again," the mistress addresses in a very slow-paced explanation which will definitely fit the children's level of understanding. Most of the words are prolonged with prominent emphasis so the kids can easily digest the information. She continues, “Flawed people from the the other cities are no good. They didn't have the privilege to reclaim perfection because they weren't perfect to begin with, understood?"
