Dimension of Perfection (And It's Flaws)

Chapter-9-There is Always a Wrong Answer

I look upon the Contents page, and I skim through the extensive list of rules.

I decide to go to page 10, and flick through the previous pages to arrive at rule one:

'All Crime is Banned'

Huh, I don't think you can just enforce that, but what do I know.

Following along down to another text box, I continue reading.

‘All Crimes are Punishable by death, or worse. There are no exceptions, thankfully. Our gracious leader knew much better than to let the scum of our planet escape.’

‘As a first rule, this would obviously be an important one.’

I look at the picture featured on the right side, and it’s a clipart picture of a court hearing, with the defendant being sentenced to death by the judge.

A little dark for what I think is a children’s book, but whatever.

I look beneath the picture and a substantial list of words appears below the heading ‘Crimes to Avoid (Abridged).’

I slide my finger down the catalog, and read the entries as I go.

‘Petty Theft, Tax Evasion, Bribery, Public Indecency, Sex Work (Of all Kinds), Imitating an Authority figure.’

They all seem pretty normal right now, well except for the Sex Work one, but I’m sure that’s perfectly explainable.

I turn the page once again and arrive at the heading 'All Royalty is to be Dissolved.'

'After the heroic siege of Sciend, our wonderful leader declared it illegal to seek a position of power in a monarchy, democracy, dictatorship, and in all other alternative societal structures.'

'Undesirable code 7, was one of these. It died in the Liberation.'

The picture next to this text box seems to be a family photo of the Gardt family, the ones in charge of the Gardens and the Popit Academy.

The caption beneath it says: 'Undesirable 7 and Undesirable 8 in 2009 BR.'

I look down to another text box after scratching my snout, and resume reading.

'Titles from the previous '8 Powers' are also illegal and punishable with death. Members from the past system are all dead, and no trace of them has been found in our land.'

There are yet, more pictures of various figures that I somewhat recognise.

Some I know from blurry glances at newspapers, or news articles that I scroll past ignorantly, but there's one figure I remember well.

By a wanted sign above it, the caption says:

'Undesirable 3 in 2011 BR, Once 'President', and Now, Forgotten scum.'

Staring at the Picture, I can't believe who it is.

Donald Doubtworthy.

I hover over the picture, ignoring everything else, and kinda just let it sink in.

He's dead, isn't he?

I don't think they'd use 'Forgotten scum' lightly.

Still a little in shock, I brush past the other pictures of the former leaders, and go to the next page as my mouth hangs open.

The next page is titled 'Endorsement of Undesirable Actions or Resentment of AniaN is illegal with extreme consequences.'

'Any and all ridicule is illegal under AniaN rule. Those who detest against this rule are included. As well, Undesirables are the Work of the fiendish and gruesome Negativitron, and must not be sided with under any circumstance.'

All this is starting more and more to sound like what 4663 was talking about, all these things about the Negativitron, and the 'Sieges.'

I continue on to the adjacent page next, and find yet another title wow this is getting repetitive writing Hector turning pages.

'Attempting to Escape AniaN as an  Undesirable will Worsen the severity of Punishment.'

The next text box explains this point more.

'Many Undesirables have attempted and failed to identify as our people and to hide in remote communities as fakes. If the Undesirable is not listed as detained in our systems, AniaN will do all and anything in it's power to locate and neutralize the Undesirable.'

‘One certain instance of this occurring is with Undesirable 267, once an infamous crime boss throughout South-Western Mavopolis. It’s alias changed after being attacked by special forces, and the Undesirable fled into the rolling hills of Prutisia; hidden in a village in Da Vinci Estate. Our officers located the Undesirable in 2021 PR, trying to hide it’s identity with some sort of device, now going by the name ‘John’.’

‘The Punishment issued toward the so-called ‘Mr. Cameroon’ is classified, but discovery of an Undesirable in hiding may include the execution of any family members, no matter their standing in society.’

That last part is horrible. I can’t even believe what I’m reading.

“THIS HAS TO BE A DREAM!” I scream, out loud as more passing people whip around, annoyed that the quiet atmosphere (that had permeated previously) had to be ruined.

I flick to the next page, and swiftly skim over the titles as I continue on and on in disbelief.

‘No Body Deformations,’

‘Any crime labels one as an Undesirable forever,’

‘No Leaving the Planet without explicit governmental permission,’

Frantically going through the pages, my hand grips each page stronger than the last, and as I reach page 67, my claws rip the paper directly out of the spine, as I fall backwards with the torn words still caught in my hands.

I look up at the page that’s stuck on my nails, and another ridiculous rule is presented to me yet again.

‘Music such as Rap, Metal, and anything made with anger in mind, IS BANNED.’

In frustration I clumsily chuck the paper to my side, having to retry several times due to it’s weightlessness. It finally falls free, and I angrily grunt as I look back down at the book, that now appears as if nuclear war has just ended on top of it.

I’ve got my answers, but for what?

I’m not dreaming, that’s been proven.

Just to make sure, I slap myself hard in the face, with the sound of the impact reverberating around the tunnels.

The sting on my skin makes me shiver in terror.

No, I am definitely not dreaming.
I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT IS GOING ON. WHY AM I HERE. WHAT IS MY PURPOSE?!?! JUST TO SUFFER?!

I hang my head in my hands, and my wings droop down helplessly while my eyeliner splodges out of order and down my face.

A good while passes of me just thinking about everything that led up to this.

Wednesday, I kept my routine of ‘buying’ some liquor at the shop, and walking down that same alley, and looking up at the abandoned building, remaining untouched for most of my life.

Tuesday, I went to the Space Bass, and fiddled with the instruments left lying around from the Concert on Monday.

Monday, you would’ve though I’d be at the concert, but I got thrown out after I kicked someone in the ass because of the hype and delirium around the beat drop.

Sunday, well, I don’t even remember. I think I got into a fight at the Club, because usually I come home not remembering anything from someone smacking me in the noggin.

Saturday was actually really fun. I followed some teenagers around the Mid-West, and we all threw eggs at people’s homes, and then run away as the old b*astards got their weapons out.

I can almost hear the footsteps right now, pit-pattering on the stone floor in a big long hallway, and getting closer to me.

It’s actually really strange, I can actually hear it in the room with me, which is odd. I’ve never been able to do that before.

Wait.