3/. Chapter Three: Monster
In an isolated corner, where the giant steel wall of the Upper Class District meets the river, there was a dirty outlet for the district's wastewater.
"This is it," said Blade.
As Blade and Nayer approached the mouth of a sewer pipe at least two meters in diameter. Its copper walls were saturated with moisture, and mold crept out to pour itself into the river, like a timeline of years of neglect, plus thick green fog billowing from it.
They both took out special gas masks and put them on silently. Their eyes were covered with thin, barely visible lenses that adhered directly to the pupil to protect them from the acidic fumes leaking from the remnants of air purification machines spewing their toxins into the drainage pipes.
The two entered deep into the dark passage, their footsteps echoing the sound of squelching mold, mingling with the hum of stagnant water and the city's deep groan. The smell was lethal, but the masks mitigated its effect.
At some point along the way, Blade stopped suddenly. Nayer looked at him curiously from behind her lens and saw his hand reaching towards a slightly protruding copper brick among the eroded gray bricks. He pressed it firmly.
Click. A faint mechanical sound, followed by the opening of a side wall in a way barely noticeable except for the moving shadows.
They entered the new passage together. It was narrow, no more than two meters high and a meter wide. Its walls were bare and dark as a tomb. The door closed automatically behind them, and a pipe above their heads released water that washed them completely and removed the mold stuck to their feet. It was followed by fresh air that expelled the foul air and evaporated the water from their bodies, then came a scented vapor with a light fragrance... its smell familiar to Nayer; it was similar to the energy cigarettes, but purer and colder, as if the cigarette itself had been iced.
It wasn't just an air freshener, but a sterilizing substance that purified the body inside and out, as if preparing the visitor for a place that did not tolerate contamination.
After the vapor subsided, Blade took a plastic card from his jacket pocket. He directed it towards the faint red light of a small lamp in the wall, barely noticeable due to the darkness. Blade swiped the card.
A door opened before them. They crossed it together, and when the door closed behind them, Nayer stood still and slowly removed the mask from her face. She breathed in clean, cold, refreshing air, even though it was different from the air she was used to breathing in the other two tiers; it was like leaving a cow shed and going to the sea to enjoy the breeze. Yet, her expression didn't change. She just looked around.
The passage had changed. It was now brightly lit by a long ceiling lamp running the length of the corridor, its pure white light illuminating the path with a distinctive aura, while the whitish-blue walls were works of art, with floral patterns and roses drawn in sky-blue ink that sometimes met an orange color resembling a sunset, as if the wall was telling the story of a forgotten paradise.
The scene was breathtaking... but Nayer's reaction was as it always was: steady and elegant. And it wasn't because she had seen such a place before, but because she knew they were now in a trap.
She said in a flat tone: "What is this?"
Blade wanted to joke, so he replied like a deep philosopher, putting his hand on his chin: "This is the difference. While the children of the Marginal Tier are sent to clean the sewers for a sip of water and food scraps, the children of the Upper Class are sent to dust the purification machines located somewhere here in these passages." Blade turned to her and said with a smile, "But despite all this luxury... if a slight malfunction occurs in their machines? Everything will explode. And the entire city, with everyone in it, will be erased."
Nayer only nodded.
While Blade tried to lighten the suffocating,strange atmosphere of this place again, "Ask. This is your chance, because once we set off, there won't be time for it."
Nayer pointed to the card: "Do you know why Paul had these things?" She paused for a moment, knowing the answer to her question was no, so she added in a neutral tone: "What about the dragon? It's always been said that the dragon is just an ancient myth. Nowadays, people barely believe meat or animals exist, and I only believe it because I find no evidence to disprove it."
Blade smiled and scratched the back of his head: "Even energy wasn't real until it appeared... Wait, you believe people's tales and doubt me?"
Nayer avoided Blade's question and replied calmly: "I heard they appeared from experiments on humans, to face the horrors."
"Perhaps to face horrors we haven't seen before, but now we must meet the City Lord." Blade nodded, ignoring her; he knew that delving into things would make their meeting unpleasant.
"Let's create chaos that forces him to send his personal guards, and through them we can meet him," Nayer replied, following the strange trajectory of their conversation. "And... do you trust the City Lord?"
"Let's forget about trust for now. The alternative plan is to search for the mythical dragon. But for now, let's find the purification machines and blow them up. The City Lord will come running to us." Blade mocked, while Nayer just fell silent; she wanted a good adventure and to meet a real dragon, but there were a thousand ways to meet the City Lord.
"What's the goal of this strange charade?" Nayer asked.
"For you, it's a charade, but don't worry, everything will become clear to you later."
---
At the same time, inside the luxurious palace in the Upper Class District, a man in his fifties sat on his high chair covered in dark leather, resembling a throne more than an ordinary chair. Behind the chair, instead of a wall, there was glass that skillfully reflected the shimmering city lights from outside, pouring them into the dark throne room and the main staircase. His fancy crystal glass was half full of a shiny yellow liquid, placed on a table carved like a rose; its delicate crystal veins held the table up, and the golden trunk and leaves had a luxurious style, while the colored petals—the outer ones were flat and the inner ones vertical but close together to keep anything placed on them stable.
The City Lord was barely visible due to the shadow of the throne he sat on, while his bluish-green eyes, half-closed, contemplated two women standing before him.
The first lady was elegant, calm, indifferent, wearing simple but perfect clothes that hid all her details, as if she was standing there out of compliance, not desire.
The other was an ordinary teenager, wearing dirty leather clothes, though clearly she had cared for them remarkably well. A small tear in her leather jacket sleeve revealed a tattoo of a red, blackened flower. Yes, she was the teenager who had been getting tattooed in the garage.
And suddenly, a sharp alarm shattered the silence within the palace.
The lady was startled and began looking around with instinctive anxiety.
But the City Lord remained rigid, as if the sound was merely a musical note he knew.
Even the teenager was unaffected; her life in the marginal neighborhoods was torture, a sound like this was nothing to her.
"Tsk, is this a candidate for the guard?" the City Lord mocked; his eyes on the lady were losing their sparkle, so he turned to the teenager. He examined her thoroughly and ordered her to approach him. She complied.
"The clothes, why haven't you changed them?" said the City Lord, ignoring the lady's fear.
"I have no money, and you haven't accepted me into your guard yet. So I didn't request guard uniforms," the teenager answered firmly.
"You marginals are always wonderful, especially the tattooed ones." The City Lord was happy, smiling openly at the teenager without reservation. "If it weren't for the laws stating that marginals cannot hold power, all my personal guards would be tattooed."
"Aren't you the strongest here?" the teenager asked curiously. Having been born without reservations, she didn't know her question could lead to immediate execution; even the lady behind her tensed up at her boldness.
"Lovely, lovely. Although you're stupid enough not to understand my meaning, that boldness is what makes you strong at this age. As for intellect, you're still young." The City Lord was delighted, deciding secretly to end his tests; the teenager had met his required criteria. But he didn't forget to answer her kindly: "First, my previous words were an invitation for you to become my personal guard from now on, but secretly. And yes, I am the strongest here, but if I break the laws, they will..."
And as the City Lord was explaining himself, the entrance of one of the personal guards through the throne room door without permission interrupted him; a man in his forties, broad-shouldered, well-built, with thick fiery hair and an emotionless face.
"Sir..." he said calmly, and although he was more than fifty meters from the throne, his voice was audible: "First, all the purification machines below the city have been destroyed." He fell silent, waiting for the City Lord's orders.
The lady trembled. Her pale face lost all color, as if her soul had been drained. She was no longer that confident woman but an old woman who had lost half her youth at once.
The teenager didn't even turn to see the intruder; she remained steady, her focus on everyone in the throne room.
The City Lord didn't move, he just raised an eyebrow and said in a wonderfully surprised tone, looking at the teenager as if she were his daughter: "You've exceeded my standards. You are one of the best."
Hearing the City Lord's words, her expression changed slightly to suspicion; it was impossible to hire someone from the Marginal Tier, but he had accepted her. Plus, he wasn't like the nobles of the Upper Class; he too spoke without reservation, saying whatever he wanted.
The City Lord looked at the guard; the mockery in his words was clear when he said: "Even if the report's messenger is an idiot, there's no need for you to be one too."
The guard bowed slowly: "I adhere to the facts, sir. Most likely... only the pipes were disconnected. I don't believe anyone can destroy the purification machines."
The City Lord chuckled slowly, as if mocking the idea of death itself: "Disconnected pipes? I like that lie. But the truth is more attractive." He stood up and continued, moving around his throne room: "Everyone who works for me, from maintenance workers to storage guards and you. I trust them unusually well. The pipes would never be disconnected, and the machines cannot be destroyed."
Then he continued in a low voice, as if whispering to himself: "What about the second joke?"
"And the last one, sir," said the guard calmly. "The surveillance cameras captured this scene under the purification station. In the Covenant Prison."
The guard threw a small ball, and when it stopped moving, a beam shot out, illuminating the throne room and revealing the golden pillars of the throne hall and the diamond decorations in the shape of roses. At that moment, the teenager turned to satisfy her curiosity. She saw a near-real, silent scene showing a whitish-blue passage with bluish-reddish decorations, similar to the passages behind the drainage pipe.
The scene showed three guards running, and when they reached the middle of the passage visible in the scene, they exploded, covering half the visible passage in blood. The City Lord signaled the guard to stop the scene and stared at the teenager.
The teenager didn't know the scene had stopped, so she continued watching with her usual calm. Then she heard speech to her left. She looked and saw the lady collapsing, terror on her face, but she knew the sound wasn't from her, so she continued watching to see the City Lord staring at her with admiration.
"I'm sorry if my words were crude," said the City Lord calmly, and continued: "But did you hear what I said?"
"Yes, you said 'monster'. I think you meant me."