The peace shattered.
An incessant vibration drilled through the silence, radiating from the communicator.
Throwing the sheet away, Noah lunged, slamming his palm down to kill the noise. But his aim wasn't accurate, as his hand felt mostly cold from metal. The device skittered across the metal. It clipped the edge of the wall-mounted table and hit the floor with a sickening sharp crack.
"Shit!"
His heart hammered as he watched it going for another tip. Scrambling from the mattress, he snatched the device before it could tumble again.
He stood frozen, eyes darting to the other corner of the bunker. Two beds occupied most of the place, so he didn't have to look far. The bed stayed silent.
Seeing the still bed, a shaky breath of relief escaped him, but it quickly soured as he looked down. A spiderweb of cracks mapped the screen.
Goddamn it, that was the only thing left unbroken. But then his mind caught the date. A twisted smirk formed on his lips.
'What a shitty way to start a shitty day,' he thought. Actually, it was a shitty start to another shitty day, but Noah couldn't blame himself; he had just woken up.
"Must be dreaming," shaking his head, he glanced one last time at the delicate figure before turning back and heading to the bathroom.
It was nothing but a smaller space, cramped on all sides, situated on the way to the main door.
As he entered, his eyes caught his reflection in the cracked mirror, and he immediately regretted it. Two misfortunes the moment he woke up.
"Wow," suddenly, he started to feel bad for the world.
What was reflected back were dull dark strands of hair sagging over his face. Perhaps it was because he had just woken up, but he couldn't find a single excuse for his blemished skin stretched tight over a prominent skeletal frame. Pale, sickly, and haunted.
And on top of that, his hair wasn't long enough to shroud those dead eyes. That only satisfied him more, though.
Who could believe he had just turned twenty today?
"Son of a bitch," as he spoke, his reflection hissed back in a silent, mocking mimicry that even pulled some hair on his own body on end.
'Fantastic,' he smirked. Splashing some water to remove his grogginess, he wiped his face with his sleeve, laying another layer of filth, and didn't linger.
There was no point in doing extra; his life was going to be the same.
He grabbed his patched jacket and snatched his ID silently. Taking a few steps ahead, he stopped only to glance at the table beside another bed. A paper box sat there neatly next to a communicator—better than the one inside his pocket. He nodded and left.
As the door shut behind him, his whole demeanor changed.
His face slackened, eyes widened, and one corner of his dry lips pulled up at an unusually high angle. The expression felt unnatural, even to himself, but that was the point.
Around him, long narrow corridors of the compound stretched. More rats like him were emerging from their holes as the earsplitting alloy doors were opening and shutting.
Most were better than him in shape and size, while there was no comparison with the rest. But their eyes were the same, hungry, tracking the movements of hands and pockets.
A woman with sunken eyes even turned to him. Messy hair and tattered clothes, with an unusually clean one wrapped around her neck. His body shivered as his eyes met hers.
'Oh, fuck!'
But instead of backing off, his mouth opened. Grinding his teeth, he gave her scarf his own glare. It didn't take long for her to clutch the filthy cloth tighter around her neck, walking away.
'Yeah, go die, you creep,' he thought. He wasn't a newbie anymore, for balls' sake.
In the Extraction Zone of the city, infested by rodents as the rent was cheap, a heavy pocket was either a sign of power or a death warrant. And Noah had shredded his pockets a long time ago.
Watching the crazy woman go, he tried to push his door open forcibly, but it remained stubbornly unyielding.
'Good enough.'
Only then did he force his legs to move, leaving the compound, navigating the dark alley, his boots skidding over slick patches of god-knows-what until he blended into the flow of the main road.
This part of the city rarely slept and was never lit up.
Noah, ignoring all the familiar sharp vibrations like an earthquake, deeply sucked the soot-filled air in before pulling out his communicator. His thumb traced the jagged fracture as it buzzed under his finger.
"Well, well, well—aren't you a tough bastard?" He grinned.
But as if to mock his optimism, the screen flared to life. A notification blinked through the cracks.
Tina: Happy Birthday, Noah.
For a second, the roar of the city went silent as his mask almost dropped. He stared at it for a second longer than necessary before locking the screen off, turning towards the road.
"She just doesn't know when to stop." His face turned gloomy.
That was the third now. God save the world—if they exist, that was. Well, the world had their own gods, actually.
The city rushed over him. Crystal-powered automobiles whirred past in a blur of humming static. Some were clean and polished, while others were just cargo haulers, massive transport vehicles.
Occasionally, his gaze caught on the massive display panels overhead. They showed radiant figures, tall and clad in gleaming gear etched with the sigil of the burning bird.
The Awakened.
They were gods in human skin, beautiful and terrifying. Noah looked past them, his eyes catching on a single figure that stood radiant among them. A baseball cap hid her hair, but he didn't need to see it to know it was the color of moonlight and silver.
"Picture doesn't do her justice," he murmured, his expression becoming decent for the sake of the figure, Athena, the goddess of war.
Suddenly, as he was in a momentary daze, a high-pitched hum shrieked in his ear. Something hard grazed his shoulder at the unusually high momentum.
Noah stumbled, his weak frame unable to absorb the impact. He skewed sideways, boots skidding toward the curb. A hoverboard shot past him in a blur.
"Asshole!" Noah barked. A hoverboard was rare in this part of the city, but in his foul mood, the curse slipped out, or maybe he intentionally didn't stop. But—
The humming stopped.
And seeing the figure, Noah's heart stopped too.
'Please, don't make it four,' he pleaded as the blonde rider hopped off, the board bobbing impatiently.
The guy was neat, well-fed, and towered over him. He turned around slowly, a predatory glint in his eyes.
"What did you say?"
'Fuck! He is handsome.' Noah cursed, but this time, the words stayed locked behind his teeth.
The pain in his shoulder vanished, replaced by the cold, sharp adrenaline of a man who knew exactly how much a broken rib cost. He raised his hands instantly, palms open.
"Nothing, man. Just saying... you're looking great. Cool."
Those words peeled him from inside as the man sneered.
For a moment, he thought of cursing him back, but the man stepped closer. Noah swallowed, looking up.
"Dipshit!"
"Y—yep! That's me." He forced a smile. It felt ingratiating and pathetic, but it was better than losing teeth.
The guy seemed satisfied by the humiliation. He turned away, mounting his board.
'What a nice guy,' Noah thought, his heart finally slowing. He turned to flee, sweat pooling at the nape of his neck.
But before he could take a single step, a flash of white light blinded him, suddenly robbing him of his vision. A sound—feminine, alluring, and impossibly clear—echoed directly inside his skull.
[Congratulations!]
"The fuck!"
Noah's body jerked back in shock. His heel caught on an uneven patch of pavement. He staggered, arms flailing, and slammed straight into the broad back of the man who had just spared him.
"You!"
A hand like a vise twisted into Noah's collar, hoisting him up. He couldn't even see the man's rage; a translucent, floating screen that had manifested out of thin air obscured his vision.
"The fuck did you say? You want to die, dipshit?"
Noah didn't answer; the outcome was going to be the same with him answering, if not worse, but—
He was staring at the text floating in his vision, glowing with a soft, indifferent light. A fist suddenly streaked through the screen, the glowing letters flickering like a glitching hologram as the blow struck his face.
Not the fucking face—he worked really hard on it.
Suddenly, the city did light up… with countless stars.
Hitting the ground, his palms tore against the grit of the pavement, moving away from the man, but the direction was wrong—no, it was just his world spinning. Something warm and metallic-tasting poured over his lips, dripping onto the legs he was grabbing.
Shouts blurred into a low, underwater hum. Someone was laughing. A heavy boot connected with his side, and Noah felt his ribs groan and snap.
He pressed a shaking hand to his face. When he pulled it away, it was a visceral, dripping red.
His nose was a ruin, damn it.
His chest was on fire. He was being broken again in the dirt off a main road while the city moved on around him.
And yet, hovering in the center of his blurred vision, were the words that refused to fade away.
[CONGRATULATIONS! YOU HAVE AWAKENED.]