The Wasteland That Was Earth

1: Awake

"I woke up."

Not a phrase many children could say anymore. Not in this context, at least.

He awakes with a gasp, body ice-cold, hands trembling as his eyes flicker back and forth. His hands are bound and his mouth seemed to be covered with a strange device.
Some sort of breathing aid, hooked up to the walls. It's wires and tubes like vines, constricting his face and neck, ironically.

Surrounding him was thick, clear glass, gradually fogging up as his panicked breaths grew faster and faster in pace, venting out through the front of the strange mask.

His head throbbed, memories and thoughts rushing through him.

But before he could try to comprehend the situation he was in, a sudden, booming horn echoed from outside of his chamber. Bouncing throughout metallic walls, shaking the very capsule he was trapped in and groaning in a low rumble as it ended.

Steam or smoke, he couldn't be sure, shot forward from outside the glass when the container gently began to open, the entire front lifting upward, cold, musty air flooding inside.
The uncomfortable mask slipped from his face and the metal clamps gripping his wrists snapped open, leaving the poor, confused boy to fall forward on weak legs.

Thankfully, he was caught by unknown hands.

"There, there, you're quite alright. That's it, take a few breaths, gather your bearings."
A gruff, gravelly male voice spoke, steadying the boy.

With little else to do, he gripped onto the stranger until the dizziness passed and he could begin to feel his legs through aching pins and needles. Tearing the various wires and tubes from around his neck, he took his first steady breath.

"Attaboy...what's your name then, son?"

"...Clay...I-I'm Clay..."
He spoke as though he'd been gargling nails, voice scratchy and weak, almost embarrassing.

"Very nice to meet you, Clay. You can call me Chester. I gotta say, kid, you were an awful big surprise. Bloody horns almost had me headfirst down the stairs, I tell you! Now then, think you can walk?"
Chester asked, letting go.
Clay's arms reached out for balance, wavering for a moment but soon he was able to stand straight, though his knees still shook ever so slightly.
Chester was quite a large man, in all senses of the word. Small, expressive eyes beneath thick eyebrows, the majority of his face covered in a bushy grey beard. He also seemed to be wearing some kind of janitorial clothes.

"Alright. Here's your uniform, I'll have Mika meet you and show you around. Won't be long."

"Wait, uniform?"

Without answering, Chester handed Clay some folded clothes before limping away into an elevator at the end of the giant room he must have come from.

Clay was left speechless, stood in silence for a few moments before he shivered, wearing only uncomfortable, tight, white shorts, and decided to change into this new 'uniform' he'd been given.

It was a pair of smart, dark trousers with a black belt and silver buckle. A white button-up shirt and a dark red and blue diagonally striped tie.
As well as some black, polished shoes.

Once dressed, Clay took a moment to finally gather his surroundings.

A chill ran down his spine as he looked around him.

There were containers, exactly like the one he'd stumbled from, rows and rows of them.
Each with an unconscious child inside.

The walls were plated metal, all nailed in place beside one another. No windows, no decorations. The only light seemed to come from the containers themselves, each emitting a bright, light blue glow.