"I am Unnamed. My title is dead."
In the World, the Planet, and the Base, it's either be number one or die.
The alternative to dying, however, is to become an Unnamed. Turning eighteen means that you will compete for your name. Come out on top, you...
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The Runner's body screams bloody murder as he sits up in his bed. He tells himself he shouldn't have pushed as hard as he had, but he knows he has to. If he wants to live—if he wants others to live, he has to win this race. He needs to stay on the good side of the Unnamed.
Too bad he only has nine days to do so.
Training is long, hard—tedious. Each night he goes home and falls right asleep, even when it's too early for lights out and voices ring all through the building. He can feel his muscles growing as the number of days shrinks. Eight... seven... six...
His ankle gets better. Mortimer has one of the young Doctors he trains to create a drug that will help heal him faster than normal. To the Runner's luck, it works, and he can't feel the pain any longer. And so he pushes.
Five... four...
Three.
Two. Two days until training for the Competitions by the Unnamed. The Runner heads to Mortimer's mansion, ready to begin the day. The sun beats down, hotter than ever, and the Runner feels as if his skin is melting off his face as he jogs over the steaming cement.
"Hey," the Runner hears, making him turn around and jog backwards. Three walks up to him hastily, looking around, almost paranoid. The Runner stops jogging and lets the boy catch up to him, awaiting some news or update on the Unnamed. The concerned look... is it because of the Runner?
His anxiety spikes.
"Hey, they found some of us... just a few hours ago..." the boy huffs. "And in two days, we're supposed to start our training... One says to stay low and not talk to anyone outside of your Category and to not go to any other building... in two days, the Runners will all meet at the track, just like they have always done for the Competition. The last five days of training. And, dude... you're our last hope for the Runners Category."
"What do you mean?" the Runner asks, alarmed.
"I mean we're two of the only Runners left, and no one is as fast as you are."
"Wait—what...? I don't—"
Suddenly, he understands.
They want him to beat the Elite Runner in fourteen days.
The moment he's been waiting for his entire life, training for with every breath he breathes, suddenly seems daunting, suddenly seems impossible.
Even to someone like the Runner.
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