Clarity and the boy nicknamed "Cypher" walked together through a corridor that seemed to stretch endlessly. Clarity walked quietly, eyes downcast, clutching the clothes in his hands, his face a portrait of sorrow.
The boy took a deep breath, trying to break the long silence. "I’m sixteen. How old are you?"
Clarity stopped, lifting his eyes slowly. He whispered, "Sorry... were you talking to me?"
"Yes, I asked your age. I'm sixteen."
"Ah... I just turned eighteen."
"Your name is Clarity, right?"
"Yes."
"It's a beautiful name," the boy smiled faintly. "I have a strange one. I was born on the second anniversary of Victory Day, and my father was one of the commanders who led the country then, so he named me 'Eleven'—the eleventh of April." His smile widened. "I know it’s weird, but I prefer you call me by my name."
Clarity stopped, turned toward him, and whispered, "I won't. I won't call you that." He resumed walking.
Eleven looked flustered but followed in silence. Is his name really that strange? he wondered.
They stopped at Eve’s office. Clarity knocked and entered after hearing a response. Eve approached them with a bright smile. "Welcome, Cyphers!"
Clarity’s tone was serious. "Did I say I would become... a 'Cypher,' or whatever this is?"
"As I told you, Clarity, if you want to pay for your mother’s treatment, you must share your assets. You said you didn't have any! I offered to treat her for free, but you refused. I’ve given you a chance; I can hire you here, and I will consider your wages as payment for her care."
"So... I have no other choice?"
"No. This is an unmissable opportunity, Clarity. It’s a rare position offered only by our institution! Eleven can explain the nature of the work." She handed Clarity a paper. "Fill this out and sign here."
Well, it’s not like I have another option, Clarity thought. I don’t know what this work is, but it’s the only way to help my mother.
He took the paper, sat on the sofa, and finished filling it out before handing it back to Eve.
Eve smiled calmly. "Welcome to my institution. I’m Eve Konar, and I’m twenty-three."
Clarity’s eyes widened in surprise.
"Surprised?" she continued with a smile. "I’m older than you. You probably thought I was younger, didn't you?"
"I thought you were twenty-seven or twenty-eight, so yes, I'm a bit surprised."
Eve raised an eyebrow in annoyance and turned back to her desk. "Since I am older than you and I am your manager from this moment on, you will treat me accordingly!"
Jake had almost finished cleaning the storage room—or so he thought—only to be surprised by more ash scattered over the cluttered boxes. A boy approached him and whispered, "It’s Apollo. He asked me to dump this bag of ash here, and he was watching me, so I did it! I’m sorry... Commander."
Jake took a deep breath, trying to keep his cool. "Are you Daniel? The new kid?"
Daniel, a boy with black hair, tan skin, and green eyes, who looked about fifteen, replied, "Yes."
"I am no longer the commander here," Jake said. "Don't call me that again."
"I know," Daniel said. "But still... let me help you. Think of it as an apology."
Jake handed him a broom and smiled faintly. "Let’s get to it, then."
Clarity entered the room with Eleven. Clarity sat on the bed while Eleven remained standing. "This will be your room. I have a similar one."
"Are we living here? All day?"
"Yes. If you want to go home, you can. I’m an orphan, and my house was confiscated somehow, so I live here thanks to Miss Eve."
"I don't have a home, so I’m grateful to her too."
"Clarity, these clothes are what we wear during work; they’re designed by Miss Eve. You can rest now. In the evening, I’ll come get you. You’ll put them on, and then I’ll explain what we actually do."
"Alright, thank you."
"I’ll be going now."
Clarity stood and walked toward Eleven. "I told you I wouldn't call you by your name. The thing is... my father died on the eighth anniversary of the Great Victory. I don't really like that date. And my father became crippled after the war; he was a soldier then."
"Ah, I’m sorry to hear that."
"I’ll call you 'Finn,'" Clarity said with a faint smile. "It suits you. Or should I say 'Nine'... 'Eight'?"
Eleven smiled faintly in confusion.
"You didn't like any of those? Fine, I’ll call you 'Finn'—consider it a shortcut of your name."
"Fine, that’s better... I’m leaving now."
Jake and Daniel finished cleaning and sat on the floor after Daniel brought some food. Daniel handed Jake a piece of bread. "I know you haven't eaten since yesterday."
"You know Apollo will punish you if he sees you here!" Jake said.
"Yes, I know. That’s why he shouldn't see me."
In the storage room, Daniel handed Jake another piece of bread. "Maybe you don't remember me, Commander Jake, but I was one of the slaves you liberated from Watson’s control. I came to work here for two reasons: I need money to support my family, and the other reason is that you are here. I trust that the group is striving for a noble goal. Anyone who liberated me from slavery and that tyrant’s control and gave me absolute freedom couldn't be bad... despite what I’ve heard. I will only believe what I see!"
"The group is definitely striving for a noble goal; that’s what I believe, too. But the bad actions and that reputation... they come from specific people who belong to our group, so it affects us all—or the 'gang,' as you call it."
"Who named the gang the 'Red Mist'?"
"The city residents. The Boss never told us our group's name... he only asked us to follow him toward change."
Daniel took a deep breath, his tone serious. "Commander... Apollo... I saw him carrying a canister containing fuel. I saw him take it into the storage room and close the door behind him. Could that be useful to you?"
"Did you see him ignite it?"
"No... I didn't go into the storage room then, but I definitely saw him carrying fuel with a lit cigarette in his mouth."
"You will tell the Boss that when he returns here. You will tell him what you saw."
"If it helps you, I will. I’ll tell him."
"Who will you tell?"
The voice echoed through the storage room. Daniel’s eyes widened as he whispered, "Apollo."