Nineteenth Section

“Alabaster! Run!” Eleni cried.

Thunder cracked through a soulless sky that weeps for the earth beneath it, unapologetic chaos engulfing the air as Alabaster's feet seemed to race faster than his conscience.

The venom of immediate heartbreak pulsed through his veins, an almost paralytic, numbing sensation swallowed his entire self.

Almost.

Constricted lungs and weak limbs brought him back to reality, Alabaster fumbled towards a shadowed alley, a veil of safety - for now.

The protocol in the new world is simple, a select group of elites hold a leash on what's left of the population. The population - known as the ‘ordinary’ - exchange resources to survive and share stories to keep their sanity present to quieten the chatter in their skulls.

Or so the elites think that’s how they preserve their sanity.

An illness plagued the world years ago where an unknown force would creep into a person’s thoughts and quietly nestle itself amongst the other regular, normal thoughts.

When the time came, this force was relentless and unforgiving to its victim. Much like an animal that was cornered and frightened, it mauled at the vulnerable thoughts and tore at them only to take their place, ultimately piloting the victims mind.

The experience is unique from person to person, the elites have been selected by the unknown force to lead the population below them.

It’s difficult to tell who’s an elite and who’s an ordinary - but not impossible.

It’s said if you want to physically spot an elite, you have to look closely at the iris.

A dark, fluid-like pattern would present itself in the iris, revealing the unknown force for a split second and then sharply concealing itself; it doesn’t like to be seen.

Lyra was shoulder to shoulder with her father, his commands bellowed through a silenced, frightened city. She examined his authority briefly, visually absorbing the way a leader should carry themselves.

Lyra adjusted her shoulders and fixed her spine straight, mimicking his stance.

Her eyes then darted across the sea of soldiers below them, they synchronously obeyed each command and did so with a vigorous passion, their sharp steps thundered as their feet hit the earth with their heads held high.

She was set to take over as chief commander in a matter of weeks now, her father would move up the ranks and be seated with the head elites.

“Prepare base two to move into the nineteenth ordinary section of the city, block off the water supply until you do what needs to be done.” her father calculatedly ordered.

“Yes, sir.” Lyra responded quickly and sharply.

Her boots carved a print into the ground beneath her as she hastily made her way to base two, this was her first time leading soldiers on her own.

Any nervousness or panic was suppressed expeditiously by the force that piloted her mind.

Lyra, like her father, was selected to be an elite. The unknown force pivots elites to their highest potential, elevating their brain capacity - but of course with such privileges come grand consequences.

Their ability to feel even a spot of love, a fragment of joy, or even a trace of fear is completely obliterated.

Making them extremely powerful.

Lyra commanded the soldiers, her stance was strong and her voice was intentionally thundering, mimicking her fathers leadership.

The soldiers moved into the nineteenth section where the ordinary resided, the mildew and toxic waste circled around in Lyra’s nostrils as she watched the ordinary scramble away from the soldiers.

“Cease movement, soldiers.” Lyra boomed, they were where they needed to be, now they needed to finish the job.

The ordinary were developing methods to suppress the unknown force and block out the inner torment, however, the elites found out about this and decided that it wasn’t for the best.

The soldiers reached the water supply which they polluted with a dark liquid that infected the entire canal within seconds.

Soldiers curtained the entire city in black smoke that was inevitably inhaled by the ordinary, it was a concentrated gas with only 7% unknown force, just enough to keep the ordinary tormented and controlled by the chatter in their skulls.

The elites were completely immune to this gas, it was a part of them.

Lyra commanded the soldiers to move out, their job was done.

She then felt something fall at her feet, her eyes breaking their concentration from the soldiers to a small, golden object being curtained by blades of grass.

Lyra examined her surroundings, the soldiers were moving out smoothly, it was only then when she saw an elderly ordinary in the crowd stare at her with a sense of knowing.

Lyra swiftly palmed away at the blades of grass, the greenery beneath her blossomed open, only to reveal a golden heart shaped locket.

“This is our only chance.”

“Allit, please!” Dannel, begged his sister.

“No! She needs to know.” Allit forced herself through the crowd of people with a golden locket tightly protected within her fist.

There, Allit spotted the soon to be chief commander at the top of a cliff overlooking the soldiers and their movement. Allit battled through the sea of people just to get closer to her, this is her chance.

“Allit!” Dannel cried once more.

With all the strength she could gather, her arm swung over, she loosened her grip on the locket, her fingertips gently brushed against the golden casing that her son had lost his life for.

The golden locket flew through the infected air, Allit held her breath and waited for it to land, what felt like years was merely a second.

The ordinary were able to suppress the unknown force by creating a curative that temporarily blocked the ability of control to the unknown force by coating a sentimental object in an exceptional ash.

This ash has other-wordly properties, upon contact with this ash the individual immediately feels a fierce burst of energy strike through them in which they rapidly reminisce about a significant event that occurred in their lineage.

This experience is known as anchoring, it pulls the victims original thoughts and feelings back - it brings them back - by forcing a significant memory that hints at their purpose in this life.

Lyra cautiously reached out her hand to examine the locket further, upon touching the locket she immediately shot her head back and felt an unimaginable pulse of energy strike through her.

His back threw itself against a wet brick wall as he slid down with his knees tucked protectively to his chest. Alabaster untangled his arms, his palm blossomed open, revealing the cure for the chaos around them discreetly placed in a heart shaped locket.

He hugged it closely to his chest, the feeling of heartache and victory was piercing and persistent because of the sacrifice they both made for her.

A slight tug pulled at his heart strings as he was reminded of the creation Ellie and he had made.

This world is dominated by the elites, the ordinary were poor folk that survived and fought for their lives, Alabaster wanted to create a brighter tomorrow for her.

The only way to do that is sitting right in the palm of his hand.

The unshakeable motivation to protect his daughter stitched his heart together even if the pain of losing Ellie hemmed itself into the scar.

“I’m coming, Lyra.”