Chapter Text
Thirteen years ago.
The loud clang of the heavy door echoed in the silence, followed by the more subdued beeps of the code punched into the pad to lock it.
“Rest, kid,” came the voice from the other side of the barrier, muffled by the thickness of the metal that separated them. The sound of the steps moving away didn’t make it through, but the teenager was used to imagining them by now.
Not that he cared. He didn’t care about much anyway because he had nothing to care for.
For as long as he could remember, his life had been a long repetition of the same, exact day.
Each morning began with the blaring of an alarm through a speaker on the ceiling, rousing him from dreamless sleep. The room's aseptic lights came on almost simultaneously, and he would get out of bed and go through his morning routine before heading to the kitchen for the same bland breakfast.
Afterwards, he would move through a series of exercises expected of him, specifically designed to keep him in shape. Following this, the time came for tests and medical checks, delightfully full of the sharp stings of injections and the bleeping sounds of machines.
Lunch would offer just the energy he needed for the hours of studying in the afternoon, poring over textbooks filled with information provided by his teacher—lessons about a life that he had never experienced firsthand. The topics ranged from history to science, geography, and how society worked, subjects that meant very little for a teenager who had never set foot outside the building he was in, nor had ever been able to look out of a window.
But he was expected to know.
To learn.
And so, he learned.
He had nothing else to do anyway.
More tests would take place before dinner, which followed the strict guidelines of the rest of his meals - taste was not considered, only nourishment - and then he was escorted to his room to close his eyes and let his body and brain drift into nothingness until it was time to repeat the whole sequence all over again.
Sometimes, he didn’t even feel like a person. He wouldn't even have known how old he was if it hadn't been for the fact that all the people who kept him under strict surveillance—"guiding," they called it—had begun counting with growing trepidation and excitement every day, week and year since he'd passed a certain threshold, which he'd once overheard referred to as "12 years."
Everything was dull, unchanging, emotionally sterile. And it always would be, for all he knew.
The teenager released a sigh, turning to his side. His routine was so strict that, when the lights went off in the room, he knew it would take exactly two minutes and forty-seven seconds for him to fall asleep.
He was already dozing off when the loud boom of an explosion filled the silence. The teenager gasped and instinctively covered his head with his arms, curling up as rubble began to fall on him and onto the bed from the ceiling. There was a deafening, constant sound coming from somewhere, insistent enough to eventually break through the roar of his blood and the frantic heartbeat echoing in his ears.
The teenager raised his head cautiously and looked around, eyes wide.
The metal door was still standing, but twisted unnaturally, as if an immense force had pushed against it from the outside. The hinges were bent, and it was clear it wouldn't be easy to access the room anytime soon. The adjacent wall seemed intact – and it made no sense considering the state of the door – except for a crack that started from the floor and ran up the entire length of the wall, then cut through the ceiling. Before the teenager could pause to think, strong, cold air enveloped him, sending shivers down his body, clad only in pyjamas.
His head snapped in the direction of the foreign sensation, and his breath caught in his throat.
Where the crack had apparently reached and found a weak point that had collapsed, the wall opposite the door was damaged, with a huge chasm opening onto the unknown beyond. It was dark on the other side, with heavy rain falling from the sky and cold air blowing everywhere, splashing drops onto the floor near the opening.
The information reached the teenager’s brain at lightning speed.
Rain. It was raining.
And wind. That was the name of the strong current of air.
As if in a trance, the teenager slipped on the shoes he was authorised to wear and approached the opening in the wall. His body was shaking uncontrollably, but he didn't even seem to feel it, so focused was he on the multitude of sensations hitting him simultaneously: water sprayed on the skin, air blowing on it, goosebumps rising in its wake, all his hair standing in the harsh weather conditions, hair ruffled by the wind. He could see some lights a short distance away and a little lower than where he was standing. The pounding of the rain was deafening, and the teenager realised it was the insistent sound that had broken through earlier, while he was still lying in the–
“HURRY.”
The teenager jerked, eyes wide. The voice, low and decisively not like any he had ever heard before, had been crystal clear despite the clamour that surrounded him. Even as he looked around, terrified, he knew he wouldn't find anyone because it had spoken inside his head.
“HURRY.”
Breathing raggedly, the teenager stepped on the other side of the broken wall and immediately slipped. With a strangled yelp, he rolled down a slope of debris created by the collapse, sharp edges scraping his body until he landed with a thud on his back in the mud, face up to the sky and eyes blinking rapidly, trying to ward off the merciless rain that had already soaked him. From that position, he could still see the hole in the wall of the building he'd just escaped, darker than the rest. Then his eyes slid higher, to a black, ominous silhouette that extended toward the sky, fading into the darkness of the night.
The teenager knew that shape. He'd seen it in maps and history books, and even in photographs and books on society.
Sanctum Prime.
“HURRY.”
The sound of the voice made him snap like a spring. Ignoring his body aching from the fall, he walked away from the collapsed building and towards the lights a few feet away. He slipped on the mud multiple times, and every time, he was fascinated by how the rain instantly erased any footprints he might have left, as well as any traces of blood that came out from the scratches on his arms and legs. Distantly, he noticed that he must have hit his head at some point, because it was throbbing uncomfortably in one spot, but he didn't have time to worry about that now.
His mind was in overdrive from being outdoors for the first time in his life, his body reacting to every stimulus thrown at him, and the voice wouldn’t. leave. him. alone.
“HURRY.”
When he approached the lights, it didn't take him long to realise they were from residential buildings. If the explosion had made any sound, the rain's roar must have swallowed it, because there was no sign of anyone coming in his direction to check. To be fair, there was no sign of people at all. They were probably locked indoors due to the inclement weather.
The teenager wandered on the roads, at a loss on what to do, until he noticed a light stronger than the others, flooding the ground. There was a covered wagon parked in front of an open door a little further ahead of him. He remembered learning about those vehicles and how people used them to transport goods in different parts of the realms.
“GO!”
The command arrived, sharp and urgent. The teenager pushed down his heart that had leapt into his throat and rushed forward. The voice of a man inside the open door bidding goodbye to someone scared him, and in a split second, the teenager climbed onto the wagon under the cover.
“I’ll be back in a few days,” the manly voice said. Then, the wagon shook slightly under the weight of someone climbing aboard on the front.
Shivering with cold and terror, the teenager groped his way through the darkness until his hands touched something big and soft, folded over. Acting purely on instinct, he moved until he managed to squeeze between the several layers, which enveloped him like a blanket, covering him entirely. The earth shook beneath him, and the teenager had to slam his hands over his mouth to keep from screaming and risking revealing his presence. It took several minutes before he realised that it was not an earthquake, but the wagon that had started moving.
The teenager had no idea what he'd done, nor whether he'd be found and returned to the monotony of his existence. Would he be punished for escaping? Was it wise to run away from the only life he'd known? What would he do if there was nothing for him out here? How would he survive?
The questions overwhelmed him, but the exhaustion and the gentle, constant, soothing movement beneath him, combined with the absence of rain beating down on his body, replaced by a protective warmth, made him fall asleep instantly.