Chapter 9
Damon opened his eyes slowly. His head was ringing a little bit and his vision was a bit blurry. He noticed two sets of legs standing in front of him. Although it was still a blur, he could tell. He groaned as he shook his head, trying to get a hold of himself and his surroundings.
"Alright, get up. It's just a little gas," one of the persons standing in front of him muttered as they helped him up to his feet.
"You look like you've been through hell and back," the person said mockingly as she exchanged a little laughter with her companion.
Damon's vision finally returned, and standing in front of him were two matrons, but they didn't look like the regular matrons he saw everyday. Their dressing was different. They wore a red blazer rather than black, and their hair was loose, not tied to a bun like the others.
He kind of had to admit to himself, these ones were better looking and prettier than he expected, and for some reason, a whole lot nicer.
"Farm Labourer No. 352," the one standing in front of him began, "welcome to the Dome."
She had a smirk on her face after she said that. Damon instinctively looked above him, and his jaw nearly dropped. He was inside The Dome.
Up above him were little spaceships flying around, little spaceships he didn't even know existed until now. Just a little farther in front of where he stood was a railing that went to the other side of the dome. It transported farm produces to and fro; it also seemed to lead outside the dome.
Damon was still in awe, taking his time to process, when all of a sudden, one of the little spaceships crashed into… nothing. It just exploded, and in that instant, the dome appeared, electricity surging through the entire place. After a few seconds, it disappeared. The fact that it was invisible made it deadly. This place was what seemed to be a futuristic city. Compared to the slums where he grew up in, this place was on a whole other level. But that shock on his face was instantly replaced with sadness. He knew what Slumborns had to have gone through for a place like this to exist.
The Females were certainly incapable of achieving something like this on their own. It was fair to assume this was done by Males, through the usual brutal experience.
"Well, don't just stand there. Come on, we have a lot to do," the matron said as she gestured him to walk. And he did.
"If I may ask, where are you taking me?" Damon asked as he took a side glance behind the woman.
"You'll find out soon enough. Just do well not to ask a lot of questions when we get there."
Damon continued walking regardless. He didn't say much, but he had a lot going on in his head. One of them being: why was he here? He knew nothing good came from this.
After a while of walking, they came up to the front door of the mansion. Damon's breath hitched, not because of the pressure of being called into the Dome, but because he was standing in front of The House of Daxin, his birthplace, his home.
***
The Males living in the slums didn't just come from nowhere; they came from somewhere. Some of them are offsprings from the matrons, the overseers, the councillors. Even the Matriarchs bore male children.
At birth, the males are discarded into the slums, while the female child is left to grow in wealth and abundance. This was how the world worked. Males were sentenced to the slums long before they were born, forced to live a life of pain, strife, and oppression. Nobody really cared; it was the world order.
In Damon's case, he didn't just come from any house or any family. He was an offspring from the House of Daxin. His mother was none other than the leader of the house, Alisha Daxin. The irony being that he's worked for his family for years as their Farm Labourer, the same family who discarded him at birth. But it wasn't what bothered him, as it was the same for all the males in Astra, even his brother, Sage. What bothered him was why he was here.
The door opened, and Damon stepped in, taking in the grand luxury of the house. The place was made of literal gold. The steps encased in gold and marble, the walls made of pure gold as well.
Damon walked further in with the two matrons following behind him. But then his eyes caught something: he wasn't the only Slumborn in the hall. He froze on his tracks, and the matron behind him seemed to have stumbled behind him.
"Oi, why'd you stop? Keep going, eh? Meet your friends," she said. But Damon didn't move. He turned around and faced her. Without fear, he spoke.
"What is going on? Why are we here?" he asked. She looked at him dead in the eyes. One would think they were engaged in a staring contest, but Damon knew better than to keep at it for long. He broke the eye contact and kept moving. Once he got to a certain distance, the other Slumborns in the room saw him, but they didn't look as surprised to see him as he was to see them.
"You guys should stay put. Soon enough, the Lady of House Daxin will see you," the matron said with a loud voice as she turned around to leave, her subordinate following. The doors were shut, and now it was just Damon and four other Slumborns in the hall.
"What is your name?" one of them asked as he walked up to Damon.
"F-L N–" he was cut short before he could finish.
"I meant your name, not that shitty tag assigned to you," the man said as he stepped closer to Damon.
"Damon."
"Well, Damon," he began, "I'm very sorry for your loss."
"What are you talking about? Who died?" Damon asked.
"You did," he said with a smirk. "You died the moment you step foot in The Dome…"