celestial vengeance

|chapter one| - diana

vicissitude (noun): a change or variation occurring in the course of something

Diana had decided her name reminded her of the food set out in front of her. Not her actual name at least, but the numbers of her tag: shadow 1037454, resembled the ones on the various pouches containing dried meat, fruits, and water- each labeled with a number similar to the one inscribed on her shoulder blade.

    Her musings were cut short as more bags were tossed onto the table, the dull stench of medicinal ointment escaped the fabric and burned her nostrils as she looked up at the familiar face. A tall woman with black hair separated into numerous plaits stood at the opposite end of the table. Naomi. Diana looked at her, silently questioning her arrival, but Naomi shook her head, only offering a smile as a greeting. Naomi didn't say a word. Not since Diana had met her all those years ago, with only rumors of a fire and lost child offering any explanation for her silence. Naomi took a seat across from her, taking some of the bags and copying Diana's movements as they wove threads through the openings of the bags, knotting the ends. For the next few hours, they continued this task, the feeble gleam from sunrise soon changing to the bright light from the midday sun. Reaching for another crate, Diana's actions were stopped when a soldier entered the room, the dark brown uniform and clipped hair giving away his role. He pointed towards her, "The Director wants to see you."

    Diana nodded, leaving Naomi and peeling back the threadbare curtain. The soldier had disappeared, but the path to the Director's tent was one Diana had memorized a long time ago.

The camps were loud now, more and more people appearing as the day continued. The sounds of weapons and training could be heard above everything else, the sounds stemming from the endless training in the fighting pits scattered across the ground. Towards the camp center lay the marketplace, small children sat behind each stall, their parents away with other responsibilities. The Director's office soon came into view, a tent slightly taller than the others, shiny metal stilts holding the dark blue fabric.

    The Director was a tall woman, with icy blue eyes and silver hair woven into a knot at the nape of her neck. She stood to welcome Diana as she approached, offering a firm handshake as the two delved into hushed whispers. Hours passed as the two leaned on either ends of a table, blueprints and sketches strewn on the tabletop.

    The mission at hand was simple: infiltrate the Cabinet working as a servant to Theodore Gagnon, known as the Prime's most trusted cabinet member. Every alternate day at midnight, they were to meet at the checkpoint, an archway deep in the garden behind Gagnon's servant quarters, to report any information. Learning more about Gagnon meant getting closer to the Prime, and that meant getting closer to winning the revolution.   

    She had been given little time to pack, her bag consisting of food and servant's garments. Moments later the sound of a motor drew nearer, a humvee came into view, the olive-green vehicle taking her as close as they could to Gagnon's Estate, without drawing suspicion.

There had been a slight drizzle while Diana was in the Director's office, and as the humvee started up again, it turned into a steady downpour. The rain washed over the dry landscape, as the dry and cracked grounds turned into a red-tinged slush. The area was barren, the camps essentially having been built on wastelands in order to avoid the eye of the Prime; yet she found herself missing the familiarity of the place, as they entered what appeared to be a deserted town. The humvee had dropped her off in front of a worn apartment complex. The doors were warped, and shutters hung loosely from the sides of windows, tan curtains flowing in the breeze.

As soon as the vehicle pulled away, she spotted a slight flash from a window. Third story up, fourth door to the right. Stepping onto the cement porch, she entered the building and climbed the water-worn stairs to the given location.