Exiles: The Unity Program

Chapter 6

It didn't take long to come across another hovercraft, a shorter distance from the second one then that had been from theirs. The new one was coated far worse in grime and dust and muck. It was so thick, that even scraping at it didn't do anything.

"How many groups have come out this way?" The brunette, who Seeaphine now knew as Liora spoke softly.

A whisper would be too hard to hear behind the masks, so it was good enough to be one. No one else said a word as they walked around the hovercraft. This time, they didn't even try to guess if there was any supplies or food within.

Besides, if there was anything within, it had to be expired by now.

Seraphine's stomach growled, a slight pain starting to grow around her belly button from hunger. Even in solitaire she didn't go without food despite it being dumped on the ground. She was even beginning to feel a bit lightheaded too. Was this normal with hunger?
Seraphine didn't dare ask. She side eyed the few from the lower sectors of the city. She'd heard stories about how they could go a day or two without eating if it absolutely came down to it. That their rations were so low that sometimes it was a necessity just to avoid going weeks without food. But those were stories, rumors. They couldn't possibly be true. Though, it wasn't like anyone had ever denied them to her. But Seraphine didn't know anyone who had personally witnessed the injustice either so how could they deny?
She held her tongue from saying anything. Because if it was even remotely true, it could cause some bitterment that she didn't want to feel.

Her mom had always said she was extra sensitive to other people's feelings and had to be extra careful because of it.

As the sky began to darken the beeping of their masks became unbearable, refusing to let them ignore the sounds, the building finally drew into focus. Seraphine eyed it warily as it grew in formation, her mind buzzing in effort to keep track of her surroundings in fear that the incessant beeping of the masks would draw the warped wildlife to them.

It grew taller the closer the group got. And just like the megacities, it was metal and shimmered in the dim light that poked at it. Except where the cities had new buildings, this one had spots of rust dotting around it. These windows were either boarded up, broken with pieces of jagged glass sticking up, closed with spiderweb cracks, or just completely empty.

It felt so wrong to even be in front of it.

Seraphine had grown up in the museums. The earliest she could recall was when she was at least five years of age and her mother had taken her to one about the ice age. With wooly mammoth and giant sloths and cave art replicas. It was on her top five favorites, but not her absolute favorite.

No, her favorite was the underground one. Where only the elite members of Theta had access and by default; their families. Every time Seraphine got to visit it in secrecy, she could feel the disobedient crawling over her skin and relished in it.

It was a magical place, even to the day. It had been so long since she'd stepped foot down there and was desperate to see her favorite place again. But it was a forbidden place and not exactly accessible when one was locked up in solitaire in The Hold.

The Museum of Collective Memory lingered in Seraphine's mind like an echo, vivid yet untouchable. Closing her eyes, she could just imagine the dimly lit corridors winding through displays of forgotten things—paintings, sculptures, old photographs, relics of human history that had somehow slipped past The Order's grasp. It had been a sanctuary for her, a place that felt alive with voices that defied silence, even if only in whispers.

She could recall the way her footsteps echoed against the concrete floors, how the air held a faint scent of dust and preservation fluid. Her favorite exhibit was a wall of defaced posters, each one bearing the slogans and symbols of old resistance movements. She could still see the bold strokes of paint, the smudged fingerprints of artists who had left a part of themselves there. Next to it hung a faded mural, a chaotic burst of color and defiance, with half-erased faces staring out as if daring anyone to forget them.

In another hall, music would drift through invisible speakers—quiet melodies from another time, looping through songs that spoke of rebellion, heartbreak, hope. She would stand in the shadows and listen, letting the sounds wrap around her, feeling the weight of the past in every note. It felt like breathing in another world, one that had dared to imagine something beyond those walls.

But it had now been so long since she'd been there. The Museum was too dangerous to reach now, too heavily monitored by The Order's patrols since they'd found out. She could only hold onto the memory, clutch it like a lifeline, desperate for the feeling that had once made her feel alive, made her feel whole. The sterile corridors of the megacity felt all the more suffocating without that reminder of what humanity had once been—and what it could be again.

The group stopped feet in front of the tired looking building, bent slightly from weather erosion and age combined. It looked so sad from where they stood, small against its towering figure.

"Is this it?" Lina asked sullenly, sounding way more disappointed then probably should've been the case.
Seraphine delete agreed with that though.

By how The Order had made it sound, this place was supposed to be a beauty awaiting them. Somewhere they'd find comfort and a place to lay their head and fill up their stomachs. Instead, it gave off the throbbing push that it didn't want them here and they should all turn around and dare to face the wasteland instead of crossing that threshold.

"This is it," a male voice lulled as he stepped out of the shadowy doorway. "You're the last to arrive. Welcome to The Outpost," he greeted and stepped aside to let them in.

They looked at each other hesitantly. The guy in front of them wore clothes neither of them were used to. His were icy blue and pale lavender, with the sleeves adoring a sheen of holographic emblems that shimmered when he moved beneath the low light that still shone.

"Erebus, right?" He asked when none of them moved. "We've been waiting for you."

"We?" Marcus finally interjected, the question hanging low in the air.

The incessant beeping of the masks sounded louder than ever before in Seraphine's ear.

"We," he nodded and motioned at the dark doorway. "I'm from Arcadia. We have Helios, Bastion, Nautilus, and Astraea here as well."

"All the megacities," Priya chimed in and the boy nodded. "We weren't told it would be all."

"Neither were any of the rest of us," he said. "Come in, before dark really falls. You don't want to be out here when that happens."

Seraphine glances around at the slowly darkening world that swirled around them. She could feel the eyes on their group, waiting for when they were so wrapped in the cloak of black to attack. Dissecting the mutated creatures was one thing. They were harmless when their life was taken from them. But alive, she knew they would be no match. Especially when their air was running low and they hadn't drank or eaten anything all day. They were as good as dead if they kept lingering.

So Seraphine took the first brave step and another before she was at the threshold. Hesitating for a moment, she didn't dare look back before plunging herself into the darkness.

Flames flickered at the edge of her eyesight, telling her the path to take that others would be. A scuttling sound to her left made her shoulders tense and Seraphine instantly looked in the direction, but she couldn't see anything. Not right now anyway. Not that she wanted to either.

Rubbing at her arms, she scooted toward the dancing light spilling from a doorway. The closer she drew, the better she could hear the low voice chattering within.
But before she could enter, Seraphine drew to a stop. She felt the emptiness carve a hole inside of her. Glancing down at her grey mess of a sack she wore, she felt self-conscious. Before she'd been thrust into The Hold, Seraphine had understood who she was. Now, she wasn't so sure. They'd stripped her of her identity and even now, Seraphine knew she'd never just get it back. Not without serious work. And how was she supposed to do that out here, where any and everything was out of their reach?

"Hi, I'm Nyxen," a girl greeted, grabbing Serpahine's attention from herself. "You coming in?"

Seraphine nodded nimbly and forced one foot in front of the other, knowing that if she just stayed out she was as good as dead at that point.