Shooting Star

Chapter 1

New Radiance Medical Center was very packed today. Amidst the warm LED lights and beige colored walls of the facility, plastered with posters and advertisements of many treatments, conditions, and the occasional hotlines, chaos perfectly mixed with order as the nurses, doctors, and aids scrambled to help a wide variety of patients. One could hear the frantic scurrying of shoes squeaking as they slid along the cleanly polished tile floors during their destination to the various rooms where their patients awaited. The air smelled of rubbing alcohol, medicine, disinfectant, and latex gloves— there was no reason for it to be so strong, but that was just how it was here. Sometimes yells would echo through the air, originating from the front door, and the doctors would bring a stretcher and as much equipment as they could to save yet another life. There were a lot more people compared to the other day. That only made the situation even more frustrating, as it was starting to look like a steep decline in injured people.

This center had a special purpose, far beyond the typical aid of your usual hospital. To this place, it was another day, another round of healing the people hurt by Wolverine Army. Victims were the only clientele New Radiance had; whenever they were unfortunate enough to be caught in their grasp and live to tell the tale, they would come here, where it was well-known that survivors would not be reported to the army— in a mainstream hospital, they would have been doomed. New Radiance was created a few years ago, so it's still relatively new, but almost overnight, it became an underground medical unit where survivors considered it a safe haven. No one besides survivors and their loved ones knew of this place, and it was for the best. While they may be scarred, thankfully, these people managed to escape with their lives, at the very least, and as long as New Radiance was around, they will continue to do so. That's what Carter thought, anyway.

Patching the wounds of an older gentleman laying in his clean, white hospital bed, the man thanked the blonde haired nurse for her aid. "I don't know if I could have made it out of this without you," he replied with a bittersweet smile, the warmth of the evening sun peaking through the window shining down on his face. His wounds were serious, but he will make it out okay. Thank God... Carter Lament smiled warmly at the man she patched up. Though he would need to recover for many months, it was still better than nothing. As long as the soldiers didn't find him attempting to leave the country again, that is. Or find him, in general. "No problem," she answered, wrapping the last of her band-aids around the man's bloodied leg, "though you will have to lie low for a while. This medical center will be a good place to rest until you can seek a proper asylum."

However, the older gentleman had not the slightest idea what his future looked like when he would eventually be strong enough to walk free. Instead, he was thinking of all that led up to him being here, and asked Carter, with a look of sorrow in his weary eyes, "Why is this happening to us? Why are we treated like this?" He didn't know what compelled him to ask this to a young woman that had no other view of the world other than what she witnessed on the news and at her job, but perhaps he needed an answer from anyone at this point. She could only answer what everyone else said about the situation: "Because anything he does, we have to accept."

The country was fine until General Gregory Wolverine began his dictatorship. Once that happened, it was as if time had stopped, and the citizens of the country were living the same hell over and over like a bad dream. As long as people did not defy him, everything was fine. As long as propaganda kept spreading, glorifying his rule, and people accepted it as the undeniable truth, then people continued to live comfortable lives. Though, Wolverine Army is known for pushing even the people that comply into terrible fates. Every other day, there's a public execution of some unfortunate soul that attempts to leave the country to seek asylum, or people caught questioning the morality of his dictatorship. In many cases, multiple "traitors," as he puts it, are executed en masse. Plus, if you were particularly in a bad place, you could be chosen to go to that place instead, and a whole new hell awaits you.