Chapter 5 - Aidan

June 16, 3032

 

At graduation, we march in single file lines. Those from Street One wear their Imperium emblems with pride, puffing out their chests to show the gleaming silver. Others are concaving inwards, trying to hide the fact that, despite endless nights of polishing, their cheap gray badges won’t match up. Even if we claim equality, we’re aware that some may have advantages. It’s just a part of life.

My badge is silver - my parents wouldn’t have it any other way. A daughter of two high ranking officials should never, would never look less than perfect. An exercise regimen to keep me in perfect shape, a beauty regimen so that four hours of sleep looks like eight, hand-picked friends that will advance my social standing, and possibly even my career. 

“You’re never too young to start thinking about these kinds of things.”

So now, the culmination of advanced calculus, political science for the new age, and tests every week has come to this. A parade across the stage, ignoring the crowd. A uniform march into our future. Where all of us will become political leaders, business CEOs. Those of us in the Academy look down on the rest of the country, the rest of Imperium.  We learn to understand that it’s simply the way the system works, the order necessary for our civilization to survive.

I see the bright eyes of new pupils staring up at me, and fight the urge to laugh. They too sit in perfect lines, learning order from their first day, internalizing it all. And then they end up like us. Ten hard years of work, endless lessons, lectures, anxieties. All for this moment.

After we cross the stage, we stand with our right hand touching our badge and our left in a salute, as the anthem of Imperium blasts through the building. Its swelling music and crashing drums remind us of its power, remind us that Imperium will always reign strong. There’s a reason that the rest of the world fell around us. There’s a reason our country’s been stable for decades. The anthem tells it all. 

 

We march off again, in the same order we came on. Order. Always Order.

 

Afterwards, I meet my childhood friend, Reb, at the drinks table. He’s already taken his badge off and stuffed it in his pocket, and I see he messed up his gelled hair the minute we got off the stage. Our parents are gathered around the brightly colored shots, talking about us in hushed, intense tones. He smiles, his brown eyes glinting, and hands me a glass of sparkling cider.

Reb and I have been friends since before the Academy, a strange occurrence in Imperium. His parents and mine both deemed our friendship acceptable, as my father and his mother work in the same sector of Building One and therefore we have the same social status. 

“What are they talking about? They seem pretty worried,” I ask as our parents keep sneaking glances our way.

“Don’t worry about them. I’ve just told mother this morning I’m taking an internship in the wildlife sector instead of Imperium Policies like she’d hoped. They’re not too pleased about it.”

“Reb I… I don’t really know what to say…why aren’t you taking policies? You’re near top of the class.” I’m in shock.

He shrugs carelessly.

“Not really my thing. Honestly, father wasn’t very bothered by the news, although nothing really affects him at all at this point.”

I look over and see Reb’s father looking off into space with red eyes, three heavy shot glasses in his hand.

“But my mother on the other hand, I thought she would wake up all of Imperium with her arguing and yelling this morning, it was dreadful to deal with,” he continues.

“Not trying to be rude,” I begin, cautious of his situation, “but why would you want to work in wildlife? It’s just an endless field out there, nothing interesting. You could do so much in policies.”

His eyes turn to me with such intensity I almost don’t recognize them. There’s a drive, a passion that I thought had been lost by everyone who went through the Academy. His voice gets hushed, “I don’t want to be a part of their dumb system, A. I want something more than that. You don’t know what kind of hell hole you’re stepping into, and by the time you realize it, you’re too brainwashed and helpless to do anything. Well I’m not gonna let that happen to me.”

Suddenly his eyes become focused on the back of the room. I hear commotion, the gasps of many, and some shrieks even escape the students’ mouths. Reb’s face quickly turns from shocked to worried to distraught. I’ve never seen him like this, and I grab his arm.

“Reb, are you ok? What’s going on?” He doesn’t respond, and I’m unsure if he even heard me. I follow his gaze to see the guardsmen grabbing a young girl I’ve never seen before. She looks about my age, but isn’t in graduation attire. At her feet is shattered glass, most likely from the drink she was holding. My first assumption is that she snuck into the party and was caught stealing food. But then why would Reb be so worried about her?

At this point, most of the party is quiet, fixated on this young girl who fit so well before, but now seems so out of place. I realize I haven’t let go of Reb’s arm, and he keeps clenching and unclenching his fist. 

“Aren’t you going to do anything?” he yells at his parents, who have moved to stand beside him. But they simply look away.

I see him scan the crowd with desperate eyes. Something about this just feels so wrong. My grip is tight now with fear, and I know I’m the only thing stopping him from running up to the girl. 

Right as they reach the door with their “criminal” and the squad that came to get her, Reb throws my hand off and starts to run across the ballroom floor. Most of the guests have gone back to their conversations, but some notice his absurd behavior.

“No!” he cries as the doors shut and lock behind the squad. “No! What are you doing to her?! Why are you taking her?! She hasn’t done anything… STOP!” 

Reb’s mother briskly walks towards her son, who is in hysterics, banging on the doors. She takes him into a corner to calm him down, and my parents usher me away so as to not be associated with such a dramatic scene. We leave soon after, without getting the chance to find out who she was or why Reb was so upset.

 

    At home, my mother gives me a quick hug in an attempt to say “congratulations”. Then she places her badge and device on the countertop and grabs my hands urgently. 

    “Honey, your father and I realized that you haven’t told us what path you’re planning on taking yet, now that you’re an intern-level citizen.”

    She gazes at my father, silently urging him to talk. They tiptoe on eggshells, reaching for the right words.

    “Yes, we were just, um, checking to see if the Academy has been guiding the students to make the best decision possible. We firmly believe that you will do what’s best and… necessary for your career and goals, but we were hoping that you’d, um, how should I put this… that you’d-”

    “That you’d chosen the correct path,” my mother butts in anxiously.

My steady gaze meets their frantic eyes.

“Don’t worry. I’m entering the policies field.” 

The highest government position reserved for the best of the Academy’s students.

They breathe out a sigh of relief, and I watch as their shoulders fall from their ears, tension releasing through their entire bodies. Who knew parents could be this… concerned about their child’s future.

“We weren’t worried or anything. We were just excited to hear what you’d picked!” my mother quickly adds, and then they both walk into the kitchen, discussing their opinions on the array of drinks displayed at the graduation party.

I slip into my room and quietly shut the door. The holographic lights give a soft blue and white glow, and badges of silver gleam. I know exactly what they were doing. Who could’ve guessed that the son of a top tier family would choose one of the lowest level internships, the one left only for the lowest of the class? And since Reb had chosen that path, who’s to say I wouldn’t have as well? Ah, the anxieties of being a parent. Thank goodness for them, my life’s been planned out for me, by the Academy, by Imperium, by their own ideas. Don’t need to worry about little old Aidan making her own choices.

What a dumb thought. I should be grateful, excited. I mean, I’m going to one of the most elite parts of all Imperium. The knowledge I will gain is unimaginable. I can only dream of it.

Chapter 6 - Ellie

June 16, 3032

 

    “Keep a smile on your face, darling. You can’t afford to be a sore loser right now.”

The words sting more than the last time my father deemed me a loser. I have a habit of recalling moments like that far more vividly than any positivity I’ve managed to earn from my parents, so I replay various “loser” moments throughout my education as the two of them walk me toward the graduation afterparty. They’re behaving as if I’m just as sad as the gray-badged abandoned citizens we pass along the way. I probably am, in their eyes. I just can’t let myself look like the disappointment they see me as, or else the rest of the world will see it too. 

It was one thing when I returned home second in my class; it was a dreadful disappointment when my final landed me in the eleventh spot, right beneath the cutoff for Imperium Policies. I don’t see how the graders didn’t like my writing, my presentation, my intelligence. Nonetheless, it happened; I was pushed down to eleventh, and while I’ve accepted it, I’m having enough trouble trying to get over what’s out of my control with my parents now looking down on me like this. 

We head through the open doors into the reception. Fingers wrap tightly around my wrist, and I glance up, Dad’s face tight in his suppression of anger I know he feels toward me. The smile I pull my lips into feels as if it’s using every muscle in my face, weakly tugging at my cheeks but having no impact on my eyes that are likely screaming for help to anyone who looks closely. 

He lets go of my arm, and I clasp my hands gently in front of me. As I turn my focus forward again, a burst of color in a sea of gray and other dark, muted colors catches my eye. A teenage girl in a yellow dress stands with a drink in hand, alone off to the side of a table. Mom notices someone she knows and wanders off toward them, and Dad continues on in another direction. I stop walking, glimpsing back at the girl to see her eyes observing me thoughtfully.

Yellow. What an odd color for a day like this. My hand moves to my hip to touch the red ribbon tucked slightly beneath my shirt; it would have been deemed inappropriate for the ceremony, so I had to swallow my pride and hide it before my parents took it as another excuse to express their disappointment. 

I search the crowd for a face I can trust won’t shame me. Almost instantly, I find Reb standing by the drinks, talking to another from our class. I wrap my arms around myself as a slight chill rolls through the room, and I prepare to put on a smile that will likely get easier once I talk to him. I’m sure he, of all people, wouldn’t treat me as less than I am because of my rank. Neither of us could ever outright share our true feelings about Imperium, but in the few conversations we’ve had, I’ve noticed a certain discomfort that settles over him in school. In the same sense that I observed the professors, leaders, and policies of Imperium, I observed the people through my time at the Academy. I yearned for subtle hints that someone else was seeing the inconsistencies and injustices of our country, and I never noticed it from anyone but him. 

I’m just a few more strides away from Reb when a hand grasps my wrist. 

I whip around and yank my hand back, holding it to my chest. The girl in the yellow dress stands before me, her eyes studying me the same curious way they had been moments before.

“Congratulations,” she says, and smiles in such a genuine way that I’m certain this isn’t some pitied attempt at making me feel better for being so close to the cutoff...so close to perfection. 

“Thank you.” I’m at a loss for words, so I just let a breath of a laugh out and shake my head. “Thank you. I’m Ellie.”

“Oh, I know.” She holds her hand out. “Ya Ling.”

I tentatively accept the handshake, nodding. “It’s nice to-”

“Would you walk with me?” She smiles again. “I hear there’s a lot of history in this hall. I’ve never been inside before.”

I nod, glancing around. “It’s quite interesting, really. It was built back-”

“Come on,” she interrupts again, waving me along. I’m a bit taken aback by her directness, her informality; I haven’t had much experience talking to students outside of the Academy. Her yellow dress and casual demeanor is the mark of a commoner. I have slight envy of her ability to do this without shame; the social hierarchy within the Academy itself has people near the bottom hating themselves because we aren’t taught to love mistakes. Ironically, I’ve given up a lot of figurative freedom for the wish to lead; I’ve thrown away values on some level to ideally make up for it later, whereas while this girl may not have the power to act based on her own values, she doesn’t have the same pressure on her to keep her ideas to herself. 

“Have we met before?” I ask, watching her grab another glass of sparkling cider as we move to a hallway. I subtly glance at Reb as we pass him, wondering if he’d smile or wave at me. Ya Ling passes the new glass to me, and I thank her quietly. Reb does end up glancing over, but his eyes seem to skim over me and go right to Ya Ling. It’s not every day you see a yellow outfit at anything related to the government, I tell myself. 

“Not officially, no. I don’t go to the Academy, as you can see,” she responds, gesturing to her outfit. “We went to school together a long time ago.”

“Oh. Forgive me for not remembering,” I apologize. I take a sip of sparkling cider, looking at the vast hallway before us. It really is beautiful, despite the fact that it was built as a memorial to the makers of this country. 

“So, eleventh in your class. That’s impressive,” she notes, stopping to look at a painting upon the wall. I slow to a halt by her, reading the plaque beneath it. 

“Thank you.” 

“You don’t like it, though, do you?” I take my eyes off of the words and see her looking at me, now. 

“Um-I-”

“You don’t have to keep up the prissy Academy student act. You’re an adult now. You’re about to go into your first internship.” 

I raise my eyebrows, not sure whether I should feel insulted or impressed by the connotation. 

“Are you happy with how it worked out?” she asks, tilting her head slightly to one side.

“No,” I say without hesitation.

“Why?”

“I wanted to lead. I wanted to change things.” I bite my lip, looking away. I hear Ya Ling laugh gently. 

“Good. We could use some change, Ellie.”

I tighten my grip on the glass, glancing around to make sure no one else is in the hallway. “You agree?”

“Wholeheartedly.” She pauses. “Would you like to work toward making this change with me?”

I try not to let the excitement that runs through me at those words show. Is she joking? What power does a low-class teenager have against Imperium? Even I’m not moderately close to a position where I can do anything.

“There are more of us.” Her voice lowers, and she takes a step closer. “I’ve been watching. I know you’re not unhappy because you wanted to lead. You wanted to infiltrate. It’s our goal, too.”

“Your goal?”

“Ellie, I lead the Jùjué. The rejects, translated, as our lives and opinions have been openly fought by Imperium’s government as long as we’ve been alive. We’ve been working toward a better world, one where freedom of speech is celebrated, where healthcare and education are affordable, where people aren’t given up on for reasons they can’t control.”

My heart rate quickens. This is the first time I’ve ever heard anyone else openly challenge the government. “Why do you want me?”

“Academy students, in particular, are who we look for. People like you. People who’ve been wronged in some way by the government, yet will likely grow into a position where they have some level of power.” She sighs, angling her body toward me while she takes a sip from her glass. “No one suspects a teenager, really. And even better, no one suspects someone who’s likely been conditioned to believe every little thing they’re told by Imperium.”

I glance around again, waiting for someone to pop out at us. Is Ya Ling used to approaching people about rebellions in crowded places? “They might already suspect me. Whatever I wrote in my exam, they didn’t like it. Being put nine places below my in-class rank is concerning. I’ve been good at translating my thoughts into theirs, but not perfect.” 

She shrugs, raising an eyebrow. “Doesn’t have to be a problem. You can gain their trust back. One bad exam doesn’t change ten years of training where you weren’t enough of an issue to expel.”

I can’t think of anything else to say, wanting this conversation to end before anyone overhears. Another slightly saddening thought crosses my mind, telling me it’ll be hard to regain trust if I’m seen talking to Ya Ling; this idea alone makes me give a solid nod, determined to help this movement in any way I’m capable of. 

“I’m in.”

A smile spreads over her face. “Perfect.” She pulls one of the chains around her wrist off, pressing it into my hand. A tiny charm hangs off of it, just a simple square. “This charm is equipped with a special type of magnetization that will allow you access to our underground labyrinth. All around Imperium, if you look close enough, you’ll notice the charm’s symbol printed on walls or buildings. Put your charm to that symbol and you’ll be shown the entrance.”

She and I return to the reception and go our separate ways. I scan around for someone to talk with once again, clenching my jaw at the sight of Aidan and Reb having a conversation. She must have approached him while I was away with Ya Ling. 

I finally hear my name being called and walk over to join a small group of friends - acquaintances, really - from school, people ranked lower than I am who might help me feel somewhat better about myself. 

Not long into our conversation, a series of gasps fall over the room. Glass shatters, and my focus snaps toward the disturbance. A shout sounds nearby.

Ya Ling’s terrified face stares into the parting crowd, her arms held by two guardsmen. I let out a small gasp, Reb rushing after her as she’s ushered from the building. 

“No!” he yells, his parents following him. “No, what are you doing to her? Why are you-”

Unable to listen to his wails, horrified by what just happened to Ya Ling when she appears to have done nothing, I race off toward the bathrooms, ignoring the cries of my friends. I slam the door behind me and let out a strangled gasp, running my hands through my hair as my heels click loudly against the tiled floor. 

Why was she taken? Is it possible that someone overheard us? How does Reb know her, too? Are they coming for me next?

A few sharp knocks on the door startle me back to reality. “Ellie, come out!”

It’s my mother’s voice.

“We saw you run in there.” Dad’s heavy voice follows. 

“One second!” I call out, desperately searching my brain for a reason to have run in here after some random commoner’s arrest. “I don’t feel good.”

The doorknob jiggles. “Oh, Ellie, let me in. Are you throwing up?”

“Not yet!” Not yet?! Like I’m planning on throwing up. I quietly back away from the door for a moment, taking a shaky breath. I glance in the mirror and fix my now tousled hair and step forward, opening the door.

I wrap an arm over my stomach. “I’m sorry, I just feel nauseous.”

“That’s alright. We should leave anyway.” Mom sighs, looking over at Dad as she grabs my shoulder. “We can’t be caught up in things like that.”

On our way out, a tall, formally-dressed woman with pale blonde hair pulled into a tight bun appears before me, a folder tucked under her arm. “Ellie DeVeux?”

I straighten myself up, hoping I’m not revealing that my nausea was fake by doing so. “Yes, ma’am,” I respond.

“I’m happy to announce that there’s been a dropout in the Imperial Policies internship,” she says, her red lips parted in a flashy smile. “Being ranked eleventh in your class, the spot is yours to fill, assuming you want it.”

Mom’s fingers tighten around my shoulder, and my heart skips a beat. 

“Really?” I breathe out. Mom squeezes tighter to the point of it hurting, so I nod. “Thank you for the opportunity, ma’am, I would love to.”

She gives an energetic nod, pulling out the folder. “Here’s the information. Turn in the transfer form on your first day,” she instructs, pulling out a packet and handing it to me. I take it gently, almost scared to touch the paper in fear of it disappearing into a cloud of smoke that tells me this is all a dream. 

“Thank you,” I repeat, keeping my voice level and calm as my mind screams in surprise and pure joy. 

As we leave my graduation party, I tell myself that I will not let Ya Ling’s arrest stop me from carrying out her plan. I will pull through with this rebellion no matter what it takes; this internship is the key to rebuilding what the current government has ruined. 

​
 

Chapter 7 - Ya Ling

June 16, 3032

    

     A glass of sparkling cider shatters onto the concrete floor as four calloused hands abruptly seize my arms. My body is paralyzed with fear and a whirlwind of thoughts swarm my head. Is it possible the government knows about the Jùjué? Is Alfie safe? Where’s Reb? Suddenly, a guardsman shoves me from behind and I’m plummeting to my knees. Tears spill lifelessly from my eyes as I scour the room, hopeful for a knight in shining armor. However, all I spot are faces of fright or disgust. The party goers divide as I’m dragged towards two steel doors where another pair of guardsmen wait. One of the guards scan their badge and the doors fly open. 

“No! What are you doing to her?!” I hear a voice, who I assume belongs to Reb, shout as my body is thrown carelessly through the doorway. “Why are you taking her?! She hasn’t done anything!”

“STOP!” The doors slam shut. It’s just a squad of terrifying men, and me. Quickly, I press the silver charm on my necklace as to alert the Jùjué I’ve been captured. Now, wherever I’m imprisoned, the Jùjué will be able to find me. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch sight of the all too familiar symbol I need in order to escape. It’s printed on the wall 30 feet away, taunting me. Urging me to use every ounce of power I have to break free. After a couple of seconds, the guards’ grip seems to loosen and I ponder whether to use this moment of fragility to getaway. 

Within the walls of my imagination, an escape plan slowly materializes. I watch myself pinch the pressure points of the two guards detaining me. They collapse to the floor. As the two other guards attempt to recapture me, I see myself snatch one of the guards' guns. Sprinting towards the Jùjué’s symbol, I observe myself firing bullet after bullet in their direction. My hand presses the silver charm to the wall’s symbol and smoke pours into the hallway. Straightaway, I disappear into the opening of the wall, sliding into the safety of the Jùjué. I’m free. 

I’m torn inside. But as the symbol rapidly approaches, I know I must choose. Do I risk my life and go ahead with the imaginary escape plan? The entirely theoretical scheme, that in the crazy realm of my head, seems to work out somehow, despite my nonexistent strength. Or do I choose to relinquish my power to these elitist guardsmen? In spite of the promise I made to my brother. The promise to continue rebelling no matter what dangers I faced, for the greater good. 

    All of the sudden, a surge of rage swells through my body. I’m furious. The memory of my parents’ death crawls out from the depths of my brain and finds itself chained to the spotlight. My hands form tight fists. The cries of my little brother as he writhes in agony rings throughout my ears. My body is shaking. I know what I must do the moment I feel a tug on my arm, calling my attention to the slight limp the guard to my left has. 

    With all my strength, I throw my left shoulder forward, slipping my arm out from the weaker man’s grasp. Twisting around, I jam my elbow into his ribs, freeing my other arm in the process as he grunts, doubling over. As the impact pushes me over, I aim to hit his knee with the bottom of my foot. Shouting in pain as my foot collides with an existing injury, the guard collapses to the ground. Alarmed by my violent outburst, the other guard’s hand snatches my elbow and a burst of pain erupts in my cheek. I stumble back and the guard that had punched me releases my arm. My vision goes blurry from the hit, so I blindly kick out in front of me as the metallic taste of blood begins to fill my mouth.

    The guard yells in pain as my foot strikes his groin, and my vision clears to see him crumble to the floor. Glancing up I overhear one of the two remaining guards speaking frantically into a radio while the other stands frozen in place. His eyes are wide and panicked, yet the moment they meet mine, he charges.

    I realize how tired I am as I turn to run down the hallway. The adrenaline that had prompted me to attempt an escape in the first place drains at an alarming rate. My legs are aching and my eyes fill with tears from the punch that leaves half of my face numb with pain. Turning down the next hall, I feel an arm grab my shoulder and the guard throws himself on top of me. A moment of terrifying weightlessness is followed by an explosion of pain in my head. 

    The stabbing sensation clues me in on the fact that my head had just slammed into the concrete floor. My vision blurs again, this time to the point where dark spots immediately appear, swimming before my eyes. The yells and radio static disappear, replaced by a high-pitched ringing sound that causes the intense pain in my head to swell into an unbearable suffering. The black spots begin to grow, slowly eating up the last of the light surrounding me. The weight holding me onto the ground pulls away right as everything else disappears. 

​
 

Chapter 8 - Aidan

June 18, 3032

 

    Ten of us sit around a large metal table. Top ten in the class, top ten interns. Surrounding us are our trainers--some are here with the sole job of preparing us for government life, others are taking time out of their schedules to help instruct the new interns. 

    We start by going around the table, stating our names and age. I begin.

    “Aidan Cicuta. Sixteen years.”

    I hear an audible gasp after I speak. My parents are known here. Very well known.

    The rest of the names I recognize, Tara Ford, William Britts, Don Herald. One name, however, surprises me.

    “Ellie DeVeux. Seventeen years.”

    I’ve seen her in class, perhaps a few times. She never seemed too bright, I don’t even think her name was on the top ten list. Why is she here?

    Then it dawns on me. She took Reb’s spot.

    After introductions, a tall man with icy white hair and a navy suit walks to the center of the room. Beneath the table, my leg starts to shake. All of us sense the power he holds. If he chose, he could create our dreams or ruin our lives.

    “Imperium,” he begins, speaking as though he’s addressing a crowd of thousands, not a room of about twenty, “rose out of ashes. We survived when the world didn’t. We found power in our suffering, like a phoenix. Now we have grown for more than a century, a well oiled machine that continues to edit itself. We have cultivated the best minds, the best systems, the best civilization. And now you have been selected to continue this legacy.”

    He pauses, as if we should all applaud this point. Instead, silence.

    I begin to zone out, fidgeting with the little points on my Imperium badge. It’s a step up from my graduation badge, with little codes and letters engraved to give me access to exclusive and high security areas. I look around and see other interns doing the same. In the corner, a clock ticks away. I hear bits of the speech - he speaks of the power that we hold, they honor that we’re bringing our families, the new life we will breathe into Imperium.

    “So remember this moment. This is the most important moment of your life, where you become an essential piece of the machine of Imperium. Ask yourself, will you be a faulty piece of machinery, or will you be the mechanic who builds it into something even better? Thank you.”

    We all softly clap, and as he exits the room, we rise at the command of our instructors. 

 

    We are ushered through the barren halls, just concrete slabs and white lights. Each step echoes, no matter how soft. I walk behind the head instructor, a tall woman with dark hair pulled into a sleek ponytail. I recognize her from the Academy, she was three years above me. What a strange sight, students in their futures. Behind me, I hear the nervous breaths of my peers. We are not told where we’re going, simply to follow.

 

    The room that we enter is high security, with hand print devices, cameras, scans for our badges, and technology I’ve never seen before. Is this a standard process for the rooms in this building? We sit down in metal chairs around a velvet table, screens surrounding us, some showing images and some blank. We all sense that this is not a normal room.

    The silence is thick, as we all look anywhere but each other. The instructors say nothing, until one intern, Kirsten, asks in a shaky voice,

    “Is there a reason we’ve been brought here?”

    It hangs in the air, unanswered.

 

    Eventually, two men and a woman walk through the doors, dressed in military official uniforms. We all hold our breath as they walk by, their gaze piercing and their march startling. 

    “Welcome interns,” the woman’s voice slices through the silence. “I am Officer Cyrus, and these men are Officers Barca and Saladin respectively. We are here to instruct your first policies class. You may be surprised that you’re not in a room with professors, intellectuals, politicians. But I will be the first to inform you, we are the first people to know the policies, as our job is to enforce them. And no one must defy these rules if we want a functioning society.

    “We will begin with the No Exceptions Policy. This entails us to arrest and punish any and all law breakers. If we let one person slide, citizens will get ideas, citizens will get rebellious. We cannot have that.” 

She emphasizes “cannot”, leaving the hard “c” echoing through the room.

“Beyond this, we have the Sedition Policy. This states that speaking out against Imperium in any way that spreads harmful ideas of our government, laws, or systems is punishable by imprisonment, or possibly worse depending on the severity of the action. These are basic overviews, but they are essential in moving forward with this position. Is this understood?” the woman explains sharply.

We nod shakily.

“Do you have any questions?”

We shake our heads in the same fashion.

“Good. I’d expect nothing less. Let’s go over some reports and documents from recent instances.”

The man to her left pulls stacks of papers out of a locked metal box and places them on the table. The interns instinctively grab the papers to pass them around.

“No,” the man snaps. They coil their arms back in fear. “Do not touch confidential information without permission. Security is of utmost importance in this building. Is this understood?”

“Yes sir,” we murmur instinctively.

He nods and begins to explain that the purpose of these reports is to demonstrate the problems that we will have to face and solve daily, working in policies. Then, with a quick hand movement, the instructor that I recognized from the Academy walks forward and begins to distribute stacks of paper for each of us to examine. On the screen is a slideshow of the jobs of the guardsmen, the responsibilities and knowledge they have in regards to these policies. I look down at my stack and see a title about the effects of illegal fishing in the rivers on the outskirts of Imperium. There is a picture of an older man looking in fear, holding his rod and line, as guardsmen march towards him. Based on the words of the woman officer, I don’t know if I want to know what became of him.

The instructions last for the better part of three hours, going over different policies the whole time. We never switch around our documents, so I am stuck looking at a raggedy man fearing for his life.

Towards the end of the lesson, the officers receive a message from a bell boy, a middle class student hoping to work his way up by running around delivering information. I feel a twinge of pity; he is still unaware that his efforts will get him nowhere. There is no advancing in this system. It’s not how it works. 

While they are distracted, I notice a second document stuck to my first. It’s handwritten, obviously not meant for me. We must carry through with the fourth phase’ it begins. Scanning down the page, the words ‘extermination’ and ‘capture’ jump out at me. I should leave it alone, or report it, and yet I can’t help but begin to investigate. It looks as though it’s just been drafted. I see the instructors start to pack themselves up, and in a mad panic, I stuff the document in the metal case provided to all interns. 

What are you doing? This is against all that I stand for, all that I’ve learned, all that Imperium stands for. And yet here I am. With a stolen document in my metal case.

 

At home, my parents ask the basic questions, and then go back to the news. Today is a story about landmines found in the fields around Imperium, encouraging citizens to stay within the city boundaries. “This is for your own good,” the voice booms. “Imperium protects you, cares for you, but only if you let it.” My parents nod along, as if listening to a song.

I settle into my room, eyeing the metal case once again. After stealing the document, it’s felt as though everyone’s watching me, everyone’s suspicious. By the time I finish my assignments, the sun has set, so my holographic lights have turned on. They shine on the metal case, as if casting a spotlight. Eventually, curiosity takes over my self control, and I quietly unlock the case with my badge.

​
 

Chapter 9 - Ellie

June 18, 3032

 

    “How has your first day been so far?” 

    A collective murmur of goods, greats, and fines fall over the room, a quiet and ever-so-slightly intimidated agreement that we’re all happy to be here despite some of the concerning policies we went over. Some portions of our lecture even had Aidan appearing nervous; the reports of various arrests around Imperium, in particular, drained all the color from her face.

    “Perfect.” The white-haired man has returned, moving leisurely yet purposefully around the room with his hands held together behind his back. “Now, we have one last thing to talk about today. From what you’ve learned of security, I trust that no one will speak a word of this to anyone outside of these walls.”

    We’ve learned about instinct in essentially every biology-related course in the Academy. Each instance, the professor has found it worth mentioning that humans are capable of sensing patterns on the tiniest of subconscious levels; gut instincts, just a slight twist in your stomach that tells you that something bad is going to happen. 

    With that warning turn of my stomach, I instinctively touch my chest where my ribbon typically sits. Our orientation packet made it clear that no accessories were tolerated in the Imperium Policies internship, and in my quest to gain total trust from the government, I decided against wearing it underneath my dress-jacket. 

    “We are aware of, but not entirely knowledgeable about a certain group of people here in Imperium,” we are told. I return my hand to my lap, clasping my fingers together. “Some low-class nobodies, most likely, people who haven’t yet opened their eyes to the great prosperity and pure strength of our country. They’re unhappy, unknowing to the fact that it is the love of Imperium that has made you young men and women, along with each and every person who sat here before you, so successful.”

    Ya Ling’s wide eyes flash before me, eyes that I don’t doubt have seen more horror in the past year than the ten of us have in our entire lives.

    “Some may be banding together, forming a sort of...hate group, dare I say, rebellion.”

    The interns around me collectively gasp. I had seen this announcement coming, but this feedback from the others prompts me to paste a look of shock and outrage on my face.

    “We know little as of right now. Where they meet, how they feel, what they discuss or plan, it’s all a mystery to us. We hope you can keep an eye out for signs. Part of your duties here will be surveying the poorer areas, listening, watching anyone who seems hateful toward you.” He smiles at us all, meeting eyes with one intern briefly before moving onto the next. A chill runs through me the moment he looks my way, and it proves indescribably difficult to stare back confidently. “And students, people will hate you. It’s common, in a position like this. They believe you’ve been handed your spot, destined to be here since birth. I think you can all agree that the Academy is no party. You have to be exceptional to be here, but they will never understand that.”

    It’s a gross oversimplification; he blatantly disregards the fact that to get into the Academy, you must first be able to afford a decent education, which is quite literally impossible if your parents aren’t high in status. I’ve never seen anyone below my own family’s standing enter into the Academy, and those near my position typically drop out, unable to pay. I don’t blame them for hating us. Yes, we work hard, but at least we are able to put our efforts somewhere that gets us paid well, whereas the poor are condemned to labor and servitude that pushes their priorities toward the goal of living, not success. 

    It’s all a trap.

    “Remember what I said, students. This is all to be kept confidential. Anything getting out on your behalf will result in immediate termination from this internship, as well as strip you of your title of Academy graduate.” He finally ceases his path around the room, placing his hands on the table between two interns just a few seats away. “I don’t mean to scare you, I really don’t. I simply must get across the dangers of information like this leaking to the general public. Can you imagine the uproar this would cause? The fear of a few lowlifes ripping apart the strongest civilization to ever be is pure lunacy, but not everyone will see it that way. We must not give these criminals the satisfaction of terrorizing our community psychologically.”

    I realize that my hands are grasping each other so tightly that they’re shaking in my lap. I instantly release them and set them on my thighs, my mind fuzzy in its stifled fury. The man’s gaze finds mine once again. Although I’m aware he has been giving frequent eye contact with us all, I fear the worst, that he’s on to me, that he knows of my discussion with Ya Ling at the graduation afterparty, knows of the charm bracelet sitting beneath layers of clothing in my dresser at home. 

    He looks to the next person, and sighs, pushing himself away from the table to clap his hands together. “Well done, interns. Thank you.”

______________________________________________________________________________

 

    Because the building our internship takes place in is closer to my house than the Academy, I walk to save money on what would merely be a five-minute bus ride. Despite my sourness toward the government, I feel a sense of pride wearing the Imperium Policies uniform as I stride along the sidewalk. It’s not for the same reason anyone passing would realize, but it’s pride, nonetheless, and while I am concerned about my fellow interns searching for signs of rebellion around Imperium, I’m happy to be such an important part of said cause. It doesn’t help that Ya Ling is most certainly in prison right now, but she told me there were more of us. Once I find one of the entrances to this supposed secret hideout, I’ll better understand the motives and contacts this movement carries. 

    I turn onto a different street and look at the walls of the building beside me. Where will these symbols be hidden? The concept of the rebellion has grown exhilaratingly real since the white-haired man’s announcement, so I’m anxious to find one. He didn’t mention anything about these markings, so it’s safe to assume that they’ve never been noticed by anyone outside of the rebellion.  

    Similar to the day of my graduation, the color yellow flashes by my peripheral vision. I look over quickly, losing the burst of color in an instant in a crowd of people moving along across the street from me. I turn ahead for a moment, my fingers tightening around the handle of my case. 

    Did she escape?

    I glance over again, and this time, the yellow has returned. However, it’s Reb that I see wearing it, a pale-colored jacket over his wildlife sector uniform. He turns the corner right as I reach the end of the block. 

    I move along quickly, not wanting to draw attention to my interest across the street. I bite my lip, wondering what this means. Yellow. One rarely sees it around here, and now I’ve seen Reb in it after discovering that he knows Ya Ling somehow. My observations from the Academy come rushing back, and I walk faster, desperate to get home to a quiet place where I can organize my thoughts. 

    I wonder what the true reasoning for his outburst at her arrest was. Why would he have risked making such a scene if he knew? Yet it seems just like Reb to give himself up if a friend was being arrested for no reason, with or without a rebellion occurring. 

    Look for a charm bracelet next time you see him, I advise myself. As I approach my house ten minutes later, I do my best to clear the thoughts from my head, preparing to shut my mouth, smile, and act inconspicuous and pleasant. 

    “Good first day?” Mom asks as I enter the kitchen, setting my metal case on the table. 

    “Really good. We learned all about the policies. It’s clear a lot of work goes into keeping things as peaceful as they are,” I say, my light, respectful tone quickly complimented by my mother as I sit down, opening my case. I have to review the objectionable report I was given, the policies of stealing and how it is not tolerated under any circumstance; I almost feel that this packet is taunting me once I read the first story of a homeless, single mother arrested for stealing an apple for her son.  

    It worries me greatly that we are meant to be stationed in areas like this, towns congested with people so hopeless, they can’t afford a single apple. I’m not sure what scares me more; how oblivious citizens are to these troubles, or how ignorant the government is to clear imperfections in their supposedly faultless system. 

    After writing a few senseless answers, I get a wave of nauseous guilt passing over me. I’m going to have to stand with these ideals for so long to get somewhere better. Can I really do this? Is it bad that I now have a rebellion heavily depending on me, needing me to do this? Ya Ling never mentioned what other Academy students are a part of this. I doubt any top ten are with them; even I wasn’t meant to be, at first. Is this the reason Reb switched to wildlife? The reason why Ya Ling approached me only after I’d been placed in eleventh? This rebellion might not be accepting of Imperium Policies students because of the training and demands of the job. How much further against my values will I have to go in order to lead? 

“Mom, may I be excused from my work? I’d like to take a walk, if that’s okay,” I say softly, setting my pen down. I have to stop looking at this.

    She smiles gently from her spot across the table. “You’re an intern, now, Ellie, an adult. You’ve done what we expected of you. You don’t have to ask to leave, anymore. You already understand good time management.”

    I stand up, nodding. “Thank you, Mom.”

    “Do get back soon, though,” she warns me, “your father still isn’t happy with how close you cut it. He’s convinced you’re going to get kicked out by the time the week is up.”

    I raise my eyebrows, pushing my chair in. “Oh.”

    “He’s just jealous. I am, too, but you don’t see me expecting failure. I just strongly advise against it.”

    “I know, Mom.”

    “Go ahead.” She waves me away, tilting her head back down toward her book. I race to my room to grab the charm bracelet, grabbing a light jacket so the stop by my room doesn’t appear suspicious. I call out a goodbye before leaving, rushing down the steps as I pull the jacket over my uniform. 

    I don’t bother keeping an eye out for an entrance in my neighborhood. I head straight to the building the graduation reception was held in, certain that her spoken interest in the building wasn’t just to attract my attention. The streets are still bustling with people as I approach the city’s center, mostly lower-class citizens walking home from their jobs. Most government workers are released around five; these people often work much later, this just the first wave released at seven. 

    I study the charm bracelet fastened around my wrist as I walk, touching the metal for a moment. It’s heavy and warm against my skin despite just having been there for ten minutes or so. I glance up at each of the buildings I pass, hoping to see the shape in the wall. 

    I turn the corner and stop, seeing a rather young man slumped down against the stone building, tucked into the corner by the steps to the entrance. He sits atop a thin blanket, the hood of his stained jacket pulled over his head. A cardboard sign sits by him, large, awkward handwriting reading little brother sick with Mortem - trying to pay for treatment. 

    I’ve slowed nearly to a complete stop before I recognize what I’m doing. I glance down at the small silver can at his side, the money I hold in my pocket seeming to weigh me down. 

    I have to earn Imperium’s trust back, I remind myself. If someone important sees, this could be enough to fire me from the internship. 

    The guilt from every word I’ve said within the walls of the Academy, in my own home, the dehumanizing reports I had to look at today, it rushes into me all at once as I stare at this man, his dry, quivering hands embracing each other tightly in an eternal beg even though he can’t see me with his head down like that.

    I reach into my pocket and pull out the various bills in my pocket and lean down, dropping the money into the can. I hear a gasp, and the boy looks up, startled. I try not to let my shock show, realizing he can’t be any older than I am. 

    “Thank you,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. His tired eyes fill with tears. I smile, nodding. 

    “I wish I could do more,” I tell him, and watching his thin lips stretch into a grateful smile, I’m sure he knows just how genuine the words are. 

    As I walk away, a tall, well-dressed, clearly rich man stops me. “You should be ashamed of yourself, representing Imperium like that,” he reprimands. 

    I take a deep breath.

    “You know he won’t be able to pay for that treatment no matter how much charity he’s offered. How does that represent Imperium?” I say sourly, brushing past him. 

​

 

Chapter 10 - Aidan

June 22, 3032

 

My heart is pounding so intensely that I can feel it’s pulse ricochet through my entire body. My sweaty palms grasp the cool concrete corner of the building. I’ve been waiting in this alleyway for nearly 30 minutes now, ducking down as the occasional citizen passes by.

It’s Rest Day, which means Reb will be back from the outer fields. He always goes to the Exercise Center in the mornings to workout (his parents still insist that he does this, despite his recent behavior), and I’m standing here, waiting for him to finally pass. I need to talk to him, I really need to talk to him, and this is the only way I know how without my parents catching me. After the arrest incident and Reb’s choice to work in Wildlife, my parents sat me down and ordered that I wasn’t to see him anymore, and I wasn’t to be seen with him anymore. So much for childhood friends.

A few minutes feels like eternity, and I begin to wonder if I’m being irrational. Maybe even worse, this is all a trap! Maybe it was planted there to see if I’d remain loyal to Imperium, and I failed. Maybe now they’re coming to arrest me like that girl and who knows what --

I see a quick blur of yellow, but it’s gone. Wasn’t the girl arrested wearing yellow?

Thankfully, a familiar figure passes and snaps me out of my spiral. I peer out on the street just to confirm, and then burst out of my hiding space, running to catch up.

“Reb,” I breathe, grabbing his arm. He whips around, but then relaxes when he sees me. He begins to smile, but that quickly disappears.

“Aidan, what's wrong? Are you okay?” he asks in a hushed voice.

I nod and then quickly say, “Nothing happened to me. But… but I found something and I don’t know what to do with it and…”

I’m at a loss for words, a rare occasion for me. I can’t figure out how to tell Reb how serious this report is, how much classified information it contains, how it changes everything.

We begin to walk again, careful not to draw too much attention to ourselves.

“Reb, you’re the only person I trust,” I begin again. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know who else to tell, but something needs to be done.”

I take a deep breath, praying my decisions are the right ones.

“I found a document during Policies that talks about… arresting… and killing… and, and I can’t even say Reb, all I know is that this isn’t what we ever learned about in the Academy and I don’t know what to do about it but--”

“A, you have to calm down,” Reb says in a hushed tone, grabbing my wrists. 

I’m nearly in hysterics, overwhelmed by the weight of information I’ve been carrying around for days. When we get the chance, he ducks into a small alleyway and I quickly follow.

“Listen, what you have to do is write all of this down in a letter. I will get it to the right people, I promise. But don’t put any names on there, lest someone gets their hands on it. And meet me at the Exercise Center tonight, on my second trip down, and pass it discreetly. Got it?”

I nod, unable to form a response. Reb smiles.

“This is what we needed. God Aidan, you’re amazing. Thank you.”

Then, as quickly as he came, he ducks out of the alleyway and becomes one with the population of Imperium again.

 

I sit at my desk. It is now after dusk -- I know because I sat here and watched the sun set, unable to write my thoughts down. Surely this should be easy. It’s like writing a report for school, something I’ve done countless times. But here I am with the worst writer’s block imaginable, and writing probably the most important report imaginable. What a wonderful combination.

I hear my parent’s door close, and the lights begin to slowly darken, telling me to sleep. But I cannot until this is done.

Well, just start at the greeting. You can at least write that, it’s easy. All right Aidan, you got this.

I take a deep breath, and my pen touches the blank paper.

​
 

Chapter 11 - Ellie

June 22, 3032

 

The color yellow springs out at me nearly every day following Ya Ling’s arrest. Always off across the street, always on the route home from my internship. And, each time, I realize it’s Reb just a moment later, walking home in his yellow jacket. 

The same flash appears out of the corner of my eye days later, and this time, I don’t look back. However, I keep walking, and moments later Reb turns the corner ahead of me. His face is tanned from spending so much time outside lately, but it still appears that there is no color left in his face, his eyes wide and staring intently straight ahead. I glance down, spotting a white envelope clutched tightly in his hand. 

The same instinctual dread I feel every day in Imperium Policies fuels me when I see that envelope. This is concerning the rebellion. 

Without thinking, I reach my hand out and grab his wrist. We both stop, Reb’s head snapping to the side to glare at me indignantly.

“What are you-”

“Follow me,” I mumble, and yank him along. He draws his wrist sharply from my grasp, but when I peek behind me, he’s doing as I requested. I slip into the first alley I catch sight of, moving a few steps in before turning around to look at him. What am I doing?

“Why did you bring me here?” he asks, his voice lowered like he knows we’re not going to want to risk being overheard. I look down, seeing a glint of metal reflecting light by the edge of his sleeve. The envelope is now tilted to show the side that would normally have a name or address listed, but the surface is blank. My lips curve into a tiny smile. 

“I know.” I tilt my head back up and look him in his eyes, narrowing my own. “I know.”

His jaw tenses a little. “Yeah.”

“I’ll get the letter where it needs to go.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. I have better access, don’t I?” I cross my arms, subtly tugging my sleeve up as I do so to show the bracelet. His eyes flicker down and back to my face in an instant. “I know my way around these things. Why do you really think she wanted me?”

    He holds out the letter, and I bite back another smile, accepting it. 

    “Be careful. You’re in a risky position. If you’re caught with that-”

    “I won’t be. Trust me.” I shove the envelope into the inside pocket of my jacket. “Thank you, Reb. I’ll let you know when it’s done.”

He nods, his eyes trained at the ground as he turns to walk away. I stay there for a few moments, pressing my arm against my side to feel the paper. What could it be? Who is this from?

    After the man stopped me on the street that day, I decided to be more careful. The next few days in my internship were spent agonizing over the fear of being reported; Imperium Policies students are not meant to stop and give money to the poor. We are supposed to avoid them at all costs, in fact, essentially making us more “relatable” as we’ve recently learned. We aren’t meant to be relatable. We’re meant to be leaders. 

    We’re meant to control, not help.

    Because of my concerns, I had decided against continuing my search for an entrance to the hideout. I can’t be seen lurking around as often as I’d like, so I’ve temporarily halted my hunt. It’s best to stay away from signs of rebellion if I’m going to be a useful part of it. This is the first sign that’s come to me. 

    I continue home, keeping my arm rather stiff by my side to make sure no one sees the outline in my pocket. I know officers don’t hesitate to randomly search citizens if they even have the slightest suspicion of wrongdoing; not that an Imperium Policies intern is ever stopped. Our badges practically act as a protective shield. We could be seen beating someone of a lower class, and the victim would be asked what they did to provoke us. 

    I’ve gotten away with being rather secretive with my parents these past few days. Mom’s point that I’m practically an adult now has gotten the two of them off my back, and I no longer have to do my work at the kitchen table. This newly relaxed setting in the house lets me get away with a brief greeting and outline of my day before heading off to my room, where I close and lock the door. My heart begins to race the moment my fingers touch the smooth paper again, and I pull it from my pocket. I don’t notice that my hands are quivering until I find myself struggling to pull the envelope open. 

The moment I lay eyes on the words, I realize that this is from Aidan. Years of being given examples of exemplar work in school makes her handwriting, even her tone, sickeningly familiar. It makes sense that Reb would be the messenger. But what caused the perfect little government girl to turn? 

 

To whom this may concern,

 

I cannot tell you who I am for the safety of myself, my parents, my friends, my job, and more. I’m sure you understand. However, I have recently come across a document which I feel could be of service to you. If not, then I apologize for this inconvenience that this letter has caused. However, if it does bring you some sort of warning, a final piece to the puzzle, I’m honored to have been a part of it.

 

I recently came across an unofficial, extremely classified report on the actions that Imperium is taking against many citizens in the country. When I began to read it, I was afraid. Many dangerous words jumped out at me, and I was terrified for my own life, for the life of my family and friends. But as I read it, I soon realized that these words weren’t written in regards to me, in regards to anyone I know, anyone I would associate with.

 

I have reason to believe that Imperium is committing a genocide against the outer areas of the state, those with little money, little hope for a future. Those who do not look like me and my family.. They are already quite far into this plan, although I am shocked at how little I knew about it (actually I knew nothing), how little all of us seemed to know about it. It is actually my understanding that this has been in motion for decades, and the report I obtained is merely discussing the last stages.

 

The First Stage was to create a social divide (I was able to infer this from the little background information that was written in the document). The Academy was their way of doing this - a test divided the rich whites and the poor minorities. And none of us thought anything about it.

 

The Second Stage was explosions in factories and mines in the outer areas of Imperium. I’m now understanding that this means the minorities and poor families all suffered from this “attack” that Imperium staged (if this was one of your parents, my condolences. I sincerely apologize).

 

The Third Stage was a disease, (possibly “Mortem” which I’ve heard of on the news channel), to kill off children whose families couldn’t afford the cure. Those in the number streets, the richest, could afford the help needed to recover.

 

The last two stages I believe will be occurring soon, so this is the warning.

 

The Fourth Stage is to gradually begin kidnapping and arresting the orphaned teenagers to frame them for small crimes, such as stealing food. There is also a possibility that they will be framed for crimes that they didn’t commit, and no one would believe a poor, possibly resentful teenager. 

 

And the Fifth Stage, the final part, is to eliminate any remaining minorities. According to the document I read, this is the only way to create a perfect and pure society. To truly reach “Order”. 

 

Once again, I cannot tell you who I am or how I got this information. All I ask is that you trust me and know that this is very serious and important. I hope that you are able to use this information, but if not, thank you for reading my summarization of the Imperium report I read fully.

 

I wish you all the best, and hope that, if the time comes, I may be able to help you again (whoever you are).

 

My stomach sinks more and more with each word. I study the stages again, going back to reexamine it all the moment I finish. Six times I go through Aidan’s letter, and each time I grow more and more terrified of what this means. In all my resentment of Imperium, I was only aware of the tip of the iceberg. I feared extreme social divides, thinking I was so knowledgeable of how the nation has been wronging its citizens, when this whole time, all my life, they weren’t simply attempting to create perfection. 

    They are killing to create perfection. 

    Genocide. Genocide. 

    I hear footsteps and shove the letter back into its envelope. I throw it into the top drawer of my desk and grab the closest book to me, freezing to listen when I hear the noise fade back into the living room. I hold the book to my chest for a moment, taking in a few deep breaths. 

    Ya Ling is in danger. More danger than I initially thought. 

    What if she’s already dead?

​
 

Epilogue - Ellie

June 29, 3032

 

    “We have a bit of a last-minute assignment today.”

    I watch our instructor pull a stack of papers out of a previously locked metal case. He drops a packet in front of each intern, and I study the faces of the first few to get theirs as they begin to turn the pages. I wait for some warning of what is to come, knowing that this can’t be good. My paper is set down the moment the eyes of the first intern widen. I glance down, the cover simply stating that this is confidential information about the current criminals of Imperium. 

    “These are some of our most dangerous prisoners, set before you.” I glance over to the intern beside me and see that there are profiles of these prisoners on the second page, complete with pictures of them. I touch my fingers to the corner of the packet, quietly swallowing the lump in my throat. “These animals have tainted the purity of Imperium. They are all that holds us back from true perfection. They have betrayed our communities and ripped apart our unity.”

    I tuck a finger under the first page. 

    “What are we doing with this information? There are no questions,”  someone points out, and although I don’t look up, I hear them turning the pages like they’re searching for a clue. 

    I take a trembling breath and turn the page.

    “You must decide whether they live or die.”

    Audible gasps are heard throughout the room. We all knew this internship would be hard, but I don’t think any of us expected to have to pick people to kill - although, it’s almost guaranteed that we won’t truly have a choice. I glance down, covering the picture with my hand. If I’m going to be sending someone to their death, I refuse to see their likely innocent face. 

    My stomach twists uncomfortably as I read about my prisoner; her parents died in the factory explosion three years ago, her brother going next a couple of years later after a fatal case of Mortem. Jobless, alone, and uneducated, this poor girl seems like every other low-class citizen I’ve read about. I turn my focus to reason for arrest, hoping for my sake that she’s committed some unspeakable crime that might somewhat fit this harsh punishment. 

Reason for imprisonment: stealing from and manipulating the Pictors after she was taken in by them.

My heart skips a beat. I move my hand from over the picture. 

I assumed getting through the Academy took strength. I assumed speaking against every single thing I stood for took strength. Nevertheless, it takes every last ounce of my supposed strength not to scream when I see Ya Ling’s picture staring up at me.