In a nightmare world ravaged by misery, the Imperium offers utopia to a select few. When Arya and Everett are recruited into this elite society, they choose to leave their homes against their families' wishes.
Naive and young, Arya and Everett are...
A few months ago, all final year students in the Learning Centre were taken to the mill to see the future workplace of those who aren't recruited. The constant whir of machinery, the voices shouting to be heard above it, the smell of sweat, clay, and a hundred other things . . . And worst of all — the suffocating, oppressive dryness.
Now, as the armed officials pick up a lifeless Mick and start walking towards the wall to our right, I feel the same dryness wrap its fingers around my throat in a chokehold.
"Is—is he dead?" Lorelai whispers with a grimace.
Everett is the first to rise to his feet and take a tentative step towards the group carrying Mick. Slowly but surely I follow suit along with a few others. But the men in brown suits nearest to us intercede, forming a wall to keep us in place, their weapons glinting warningly.
Suddenly, a perfectly rectangular portion of the wall detaches itself from its place, sliding sideways in a smooth, noiseless motion to reveal a hidden room. I struggle to see beyond the wall of officers as I lay a hand on Everett's shoulder and stand on the tips of my toes.
Mick's body is carried into the room and the panel slides back into place, becoming one with the wall as though it never existed.
In the silence that follows, I turn to look at the people around me, each of their faces frozen in expressions of shock. My blood turns cold with a sudden thought.
"That could've been you and me. Maybe they would've killed us if we rejected the Imperium," I whisper to Everett and he immediately turns to me, eyebrows raised. My voice quivers as I add, "We could've never fought them."
I see my own fear reflected in Everett's eyes when he nods in horrified understanding.
One of the men breaks away from the makeshift wall of officials and calls our attention. "Recruits."
The authoritative depth of his voice causes me to jump in fright. Swiftly and obediently, I turn to face him and find the other recruits doing the same until we're standing in a formation of ten rows. I realize with a nauseating jolt that only thirty-nine of us remain.
The heavily armed man in the brown suit walks towards another portion of the right wall and presses a button on the small black rectangle hanging from a hoop on his belt. A new portion of the wall slides open to reveal a long corridor.
Standing behind Everett, I stare at the smooth white wall in front of me with newfound apprehension, wondering how many such doors are concealed within.
"Please ignore the slight setback that we just witnessed. You will now be transported to the Imperium," the man says, his tone ever-so-smooth and blasé. He gestures for us to enter into the corridor with a wide sweep of his arm, but there is something oddly imposing about his action that gives me the impression that we don't have a choice.
Mick was killed and you're calling it a fucking setback? I want to shout as I pass him on my way into the passage, but I can neither find my voice nor my courage.
Casting one final glance at the hall and the spot where Mick had crashed against the beautiful floor, I follow Everett into the dimly lit corridor.
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