The North Gate

The North Gate is not like the rest of Silverside, it's a fortress of black steel and jagged wire. It sits on the edge of the city and borders the Dead Zone. This is where the Vanguard soldiers live.

I walk toward the entrance, my new ID card clutched in my hand. The sun is starting to dip, casting long, orange streaks across the concrete. I can feel the weight of my movements changing. I am not a Librarian anymore. I have to walk with a heavy heel, my shoulders squared, my gaze fixed. Every person I pass is a potential observer.

At the checkpoint, two soldiers stand guard. They aren't like the citizens of the city.. they are sharp, scanning for any sign of a Static twitch or a faltering step.

I hand over my card. One of them swipes it, the machine letting out a crisp beep.

"Initiate 909," he says, his voice like dry. "Late arrivals lose their evening meal. You have ten minutes to find Barrack 4. Move."

I don't say thank you. A soldier doesn't thank a superior for an order. I just nod once and break into a jog.

Inside Barrack 4, the air is thick with the sound of many other girls moving in unison. They are all wearing the same black uniform. Some are sitting on their narrow cots, staring at the floor. Others are cleaning their boots with a rhythmic, hypnotic focus.

I find my bunk. It's nothing more than a thin mattress and a single wool blanket. I throw my small bag onto the bed and sit down.

"You're the last one," a voice says from the bunk next to mine.

I look up. The girl sitting there is small, with hair cropped so close to her scalp you can see the faint scar from her Sync needle. Her Pulse-Gate is a steady, perfect blue.

"I'm 908, Mara" she says. "I used to be a musician.. the tech says.. but it doesnt matter. We're the 900-series now."

I look at her, and for a second, I want to ask her if she remembers anything. I want to ask if she has a mother she still dreams about. But I catch myself.

Rule No. One: Never seek a connection.

"I'm 909, Serene" I say, my voice flat.

"You look... different," Mara whispers, leaning in. "Your eyes. They don't look like the others."

My heart stops. I can feel the sweat prickling at the back of my neck. I've been here for twenty minutes and I'm already being watched. I have to fix it. Now.

"I'm searching for my rifle," I snap, making my voice cold and harsh. "And I'm searching for the person who is going to stop talking so I can prep for the training."

She flinches, the light in her eyes dimming as she turns back to her boots. It hurts to be cruel to someone who is just as much a victim as I am, but in this room, pity is a death sentence.

Suddenly, the heavy iron doors at the end of the hall slam open. The sound echoes like a gunshot. All the girls stand up at once. I scramble to my feet, my heart hammering against my ribs.

A group of officers walks in, but one man leads them. His dark hair is cut short textured Ivy League, he's wearing a black tactical military uniform. He doesn't look at us like we are people. He looks at us like we are a machine that needs to be trained and bent till our breaking points.

My breath hitches. I know that face.

It's.... Ayran

He walks down the center of the room and stops in the middle of the barracks, his hands clasped behind his back.

"I am Commander Ayran," he says.. His voice isn't loud, but it carries to every corner of the room. "The city gave you a Sync. They gave you a purpose. But I am the one who will give you a life. Most of you will fail. Most of you will be re-calibrated before the month is over."

He starts to walk again, his eyes scanning the rows of girls. He is getting closer to my bunk. I stare at the wall opposite me, focusing on a single crack in the stone.

"But for the few who survive," he continues, his voice now right in front of me. "You will be the ones who stand at the edge of this city. You will be the ones who see what lies in the Mist."

He stops. I can feel the heat radiating from him. I can smell the faint, sharp scent of charcoal.

He stands in front of me for a beat too long. I can feel his gaze on me. I don't move. I don't breathe. I keep my eyes on the wall.

"Initiate 909" he says softly.

My stomach drops. My pulse thunders in my ears, so loud I'm sure he can hear it.

I wonder if he sees the resemblance of Kian in the shape of my jaw or my nose.

"Look at me," he commands.

I have no choice. I turn my head, my neck stiff. I don't look at his eyes. I look at the silver eagle pin on his collar.

Ayran says nothing. He simply stares at me, his expression unreadable. He lingers there for a second, his dark eyes narrowing as if he is trying to solve a puzzle that doesn't quite fit. He looks at the way I hold my shoulders, the way I refuse to flinch. Something flickers across his face, not a smile, but a strange shadow of confusion, as if he recognizes a melody but can't remember the name of the song.

Then, without a word, he turns on his boots and marches out of the barracks, the doors slamming shut behind him.