"Salvation it was, they said, trading a Sun, though one near death, for a sky of alien whispers. Rescued from the jaws of a dying star, we knew all too well it was a graveyard built on stolen time but deceived ourselves otherwise.
In the end, we were saved... only to be damned once more."
...
'Curses! Why are these guys so persistent?' Lucian's breath hitched in his chest, the frigid air burning his throat as he sprinted through as he ran the narrow but crowded filthy streets. Dim crimson light filtered down from the overcast sky, casting long, distorted shadows that danced with the thin mist curling around the shanty structures. He risked a glance over his shoulder, his heart pounding against his ribs like a trapped bird. They were still there, their ragged figures relentless in their pursuit. 'I got the drug fair and square! Why do I have to give it to them?'
The cold was a physical presence, a biting and gnawing one that sank deep into his bones. The entire area seemed locked in a perpetual twilight, the crimson light painting the scene in shades of dying embers. A thin mist clung to the ground, wrapping around the makeshift structures like a suffocating blanket. It certainly wasn't a place you'd expect to find life. But in fact, life did thrive here... though thrive was a strong word. Too strong a word.
They survived here.
Despite the crowded streets bustling with hurried footsteps and hawkers' cries, a heavy silence seemed to weigh down the air. People moved through the streets, the alleys and the corners like shadows, their eyes downcast, the lines around them etched deep like scars. Shoulders slumped, and their movement was slow, as if each step required immense effort. The cold was like a trusted but unwanted companion, no matter the situation or condition you could always count on having it around. It hammered at them, gnawed at them, sunk into them... while scarring them, was also forging them into hardened people. Just because their lives were hard didn't mean they had lost all hope... not all of them at least. In fact, some of them couldn't help feeling grateful, though to no one in particular. After all, they were still alive while millions had perished.
With nothing else left, they had built a society of their own, as fragile and unstable as it might be, of survival. Makeshift markets at specific areas, vital hubs for securing scavenged goods, from meager rations and questionable edibles to crude weapons or salvaged pieces of old tech from the old era. Despite the pervasive hopelessness of the places, the people's senses weren't dulled. If anything, it was heightened to the greatest heights.
Every rustle, every shout, every shift, be it in the dim light of the sky, or the bonfires made for heat, was noted, a constant state of alert mirroring that of the soldiers of the dome that housed and protected its privileged inhabitants... the snobbish and sheltered bastards.
They didn't have the same privileges, so they had to be prepared themselves for the appearance of the damned demons and corrupted souls from hell. There was also the constant watch for danger from the fellow members of their makeshift society, the ever search for opportunities, and the ever present threat of the natural disasters... that were anything but natural, which were becoming more frequent.
Lucian weaved through the throng, past ramshackle buildings constructed from scavenged metal and rotting wood. Frost dusted every surface, icicles hanging like fragile daggers from the edges of roofs. The people around him were clad in tattered rags, a lucky few possessing clothes with more stitches than original fabric. He pushed past a group huddled around a small bonfire, earning a chorus of angry shouts.
"Hey asshole, watch where you're going!"
"You're going to Pay for this bastard!"
"Come on! I live there, jerk!"
The angry voices of some People came as Lucian caught the ire of every person he passed because of his hurried movements but of course, Lucian didn't linger long enough to take any responsibility for his actions. His life was basically in danger.
"Stop running, brat! Boss Ry is the one asking for the item. Are you sure you Want to get on his bad side?"
"Bastard." Lucian muttered under his breath as he heard them use that name for like the third time since the chase began. Ry was a very infamous gang boss that ruled these parts of the slums. His rule cast a dark shadow over the already suffering community. Unfortunately he had power to back up his notorious nature and normally, like every sane person would, he would have given up the moment they came up to him and surrendered the item they wanted. But the drug he was currently holding was a powerful and miraculous item. Probably powerful enough to heal his mother of her ailment. He couldn't just hand it over.
He didn't dare linger, his life hanging in the balance. He could feel the heat of his pursuers on his heels, but he seemed to be gaining ground. A surge of hope propelled him forward as he darted into a narrow alley, emerging onto another crowded street. He slowed his pace, melting into the flow of bodies. The thugs burst into the street a moment later, their momentum carrying them forward before they realized their target had vanished into the night. Though lanterns and small fires dotted the scene, the dense crowd offered ample cover.
"Damn it! We lost the little shithead." One of the thugs exclaimed in panic as his eyes scanned around filtering through the many figures trodding up and down the busy street.
"Shit! We're in major trouble if we can't find the brat." Another of the thugs said with fear. Boss Ry wasn't exactly famous for being the most benevolent gang boss in the city.
Another shook his head, trying not to imagine the horrible things that might happen to them. "We can't let him get away. We should spread out and cover more ground. He couldn't have gotten too far."
They all agreed with his suggestion and soon enough, they were disappearing into the throng.
Lucian meanwhile noticed their little gathering discreetly from a corner. He sighed in relief as he saw the few of them passing his position cluelessly. He opted to remain in the same place for a little while longer before turning around to leave.
But suddenly, a heavy item crashed on his head with a muffled thud.
'What the...' he couldn't continue his thoughts as the hit sent a wave of dizziness through him.
Thud!
He crashed to the ground and his vision began to darken. But just before he lost consciousness, he vaguely heard the words "I'm sorry."
That voice... why did it sound familiar?
...
The symphony of murmurs reached Lucian's ears as he woke up from his forced slumber with a heavy groan. His eyes fluttered open as he met quite an unexpected scene. A bunch of People, all clothed in a series of worn out clothing in a desperate attempt to fight off the cold, just like him. It was only by the illuminating light cast by a large bonfire behind him was he able to see the expressions that spoke of a great level of discomfort... along with a mix of something of fear.
Their expressions weren't encouraging.
"ugh..."
It was at that moment that he felt a great wave of pain wash over him. He groaned once more as the pain he received from the injury on his head intensified as he regained consciousness. It was too much to bear so he brought his hands up to hold onto his head, trying to placate to the the pain that assaulted him... or at least he tried.
'what the...'
His hands were being held back by something pretty tightly and keeping his hands firmly behind his back. Feeling what could only be considered ropes binding his hands together, he finally decided to to take in the conditions of his current circumstances. He was currently bound on the ground, like some sort of sacrificial lamb, in front of a large number of people, all from the slums, just like him. They currently surrounded the large bonfire behind him, providing more heat than was welcome. But those observations were quite irrelevant compared to his next discovery which made his heart palpitate with unsurmounted fear.
'shit!'
Guns!
Some men stood around the perimeter, obviously gang members.
'Please, don't tell me I'm in that bastard, Ry's territory!' Lucian exclaimed in his mind with shock and unwilling fear. 'No, I can't be Left at the Mercy of that tyrant!'
With these thoughts in mind, Lucian began another desperate struggle to free himself from the constraints that bound his freedom, unfortunately it was all fruitless.
And even if it wasn't, it was too late.
The murmurs quieted down as the sound of feet marching across snow filled grounds, resounded through the area. Lucian's frantic actions also came to a halt and with a bit of difficulty, he turned around to look at the reason for the shift in tension.
He caught sight of people Moving to the side and giving way for a few people to come upfront. A few men with guns became visible in no time to him, also thugs, being led by a tall man in his late 20s with a menacing look on his face. To be honest, this man looked nothing short of a giant, standing at an imposing seven feet tall with a robust body frame to back it. In a place where hunger gnawed at every frame, his robust physique spoke volumes of his access to resources. His clothes, while not ornate, were clean and whole, a stark contrast to the patched and tattered garments of the surrounding crowd. A heavy silver chain glinted at his neck, another at his wrist - luxuries unheard of in the slums. Even his rough white hair seemed to glint a little. He looked out of place compared to the other people around.
Well, why wouldn't he? After all, he was the gang boss who currently had complete control over this part of the slums, Boss Ry.
Boss Ry came forward and looked down on Lucian's bound figure with disdain.
"So, this is the little bastard that ignored my commands earlier, right?" He asked one of his men in a rough gruff tone.
The lackey went up respectfully and nodded, "Yes boss, this is the annoying runt who ran away with those drugs. It was really tough to catch the bastard."
"Yeah. It was really hard for 'ME' to catch him. You forgot to mention that to boss Ry." Another voice came from the corner, claiming everyone's attention.
The lackey's expression became forced as a hint of annoyance appeared in his expression, boss Ry had a confused look on his face and Lucian also wore a particular expression of his. His eyes widened with shock as he heard the familiarity of the voice. He turned his gaze to search for the source of the voice. He had been so fixated on the menacing figure of the gang boss that he hadn't realized the familiar figure that was standing at the corner the entire time earlier.
"Kady!"