The Glock had no external safety. Even so, I preferred to disassemble it and take an essential part for reassembly. The big guy would be fine — he might just need to fix his nose. I felt no guilt at all.
The woman remained still, in shock, gathering courage only to ask who I was — as if I would answer. Human beings are curious. Faced with the inexplicable, they still expect an explanation.
As I walked, I thought only of some random joke while heading toward the car and drove away. I drove for forty minutes until I got home.
I crossed the wide yard, scattered with old, moldy toys, and when I opened the door, three small Shih Tzus rushed at me.
"Good evening, Sam, Clover, and Alex. Unfortunately, your mother will arrive later. If you want to wait, feel free. I'm going to sleep."
I walked through the house to a room I knew well. The door was simple, marked by time. I knew the meaning of every scratch — especially the five horizontal lines on the doorframe, gradually rising to the height of my stomach.
I ran my hand over the last mark.
"I miss you."
Few things I do lack purpose. That was an exception. Some memories should not be erased.
The bedroom was simple: a bed and a small wardrobe. I took off my clothes and placed them in the basket beside the other three outfits I owned. It was enough.
I lay down in my underwear. The three dogs barked, asking to climb up. I noticed the door was open, got up, closed it, placed them on the bed, and fell asleep with headphones in my ears.
"Knock, knock."
The tapping was soft, but it had an unmistakable rhythm. One dog woke up, then another, then a third. With all three, the barking finally overpowered the music playing in my headphones.
I got up and walked to the kitchen, eyes half-closed, like someone who knows every step in the dark.
"The coffee is ready. We need to talk."
Helena's serious voice dispelled any remaining trace of sleep.
I tried to reconstruct the previous night.
"Damn."
The smell of bacon and eggs filled the room.
"Bacon and eggs?"
"Don't change the subject. Someone knocked a guy out yesterday. And do you know what they're saying?"
"What?" I feigned ignorance.
"That the person responsible had a Lancer."
"That's crazy. Then it wasn't me."
"Leo. Look outside."
I approached the window. There was only one car on the street.
Mine.
"If you're talking about the Evo…"
"Don't play dumb. It's the same car."
"It's not. Mine has sixteen valves, a turbo…"
"Leo." She sighed. "How many times have I told you not to pick fights? You can't. That's the deal. Do you know what Mom had to do to keep you unnoticed?"
I knew.
My sister wasn't academically brilliant, but she was exceptional at surviving — and she did it for both of us, just like our mother.
"I understand. It wasn't my intention."
"Anyway… that's not what this is about. I was ordered to report."
The words landed like a gunshot.
"What do you mean? The last group was sent less than three weeks ago. What about the other colonies?"
"They need to replace losses. The new territory is causing problems. The next batch has already been decided. Just like Dad and Mom… it's my turn."
"No."
I was never one to confront her. But something burned inside me.
"Brother, I…"
Her words broke apart. Tears came before the rest of the sentence. She ran and hugged me.
"I hope you manage to enjoy life. Find someone and…"
Her arms wrapped around me. Mine took time to respond. It was hard to return that.
Even so, I knew what I needed to do.
I raised my hands to the side of her neck and pressed precisely, enough to interrupt the flow for a few seconds.
She collapsed.
"What are you doing?" she asked, dazed.
"You're all I have. I'll go in your place."
"Please, don't."
The tears did not stop me.
I went to the bedroom and gathered my clothes — two outfits, counting what I was wearing. When I returned, she was still on the floor, crying.
"Why?"
Good question.
I never knew how to answer much in life. I was always someone out of place, without a clear direction — just reacting.
I approached and removed her dog tag. Small, made of thin steel. Engraved on it: C+.
That tag defined our social value. A hierarchy disguised as merit. Deep down, no one was truly important.
"Sister, keep mine. Mom would kill us if I didn't do this. And I'll take your phone. Thank you for everything. Even though I am the way I am… I love you. Take care of the dogs. And my car. Don't forget the car."
I grabbed the sandwich on the table. The first bite brought the memory of consistency — something common in my life. I divided the rest into three parts and tossed them to the dogs.
I walked to the door.
"Brother!"
I didn't look back.
And I left.
Her scream only made me quicken my pace. I got into my sister's car — a large SUV of an irrelevant brand — and cast one last look at the house where I had always lived. Then I accelerated.
Rationally, I was the older one. I simply couldn't accept the idea of seeing her sent to the Oasis. Everyone who went there never returned. If they told me the Oasis was a human meat grinder, I would believe it without hesitation.
The colony where we lived had a semi-arid, almost countryside climate. Even though I had never left it, it was considered irrelevant compared to other colonies. As I drove along the only road leading out, I passed low buildings and scattered houses. It took me almost an hour to reach the main highway and find other vehicles similar to mine.
In the sky, flying cars crossed the horizon before disappearing. I wasn't startled. I knew what that meant — I just never got used to it. Even in the colony there were the wealthy outsiders who liked to enter the colonies to have fun or simply conduct some kind of illicit business. They had a specific name, but I preferred to simplify it: Nobles.
Twenty minutes later, I arrived at something that resembled an outpost. Some men wore military uniforms. They were the border guardians — known for being strict, sometimes cruel. Since I had never tried to leave the colony, I had always seen them merely as employees carrying out orders.
"Sir, what are you doing here?"
"My sister was selected. I'm here to replace her."
"Oh… that's rare. Dam, come here. We have a substitute."
A man farther away dismissed the vehicle he was assisting and approached.
"Damn… that's really rare. Hold on, I'll get the analyzer."
He returned with a small, sophisticated-looking device.
"Give me your hand."
He grabbed my hand and pressed the device against my finger. A slight puncture.
Error.
"Strange… the system didn't find anything. What's the degree of kinship with the selected one?"
"Brother."
"Age?"
"Thirty-six."
"Hmm… still no record."
"What's strange about it?" the other one asked, leaning in to see the screen.
"No classification shows up. Show me your dog tag."
I lifted the chain from my neck. He examined it carefully.
"Holy shit… C+. I thought only big shots had a grade like that. Sorry, friend. You can pass."
I moved forward as the two exchanged glances.
"Did you see his tag? I've never seen one that high on a mere colonist."
"Shut up, Dam. Get back to work."
The road gave way to desert. At a certain point, the cars simply disappeared on the horizon, like mirages swallowed by the light.
When my turn came, I felt my body grow lighter. The scenery changed abruptly.
I looked back.
A colossal dome covered what had once been the desert road. In the sky, near the dome, a number appeared.
"22… so we're 22."
I had always been curious about that. My sister and I used to bet on which number we would be.
"I guess I won, sis."
I said it quietly. I was almost certain we would be below 100.
__________________________________________________
While Leo silently gloated over finally beating his sister, Helena began to regain movement. Still lying on the kitchen floor, her tears had dried, but the anger remained.
"Damn it… why did he do that? Idiot brother…"
With effort, she stood up and rubbed the dog tag he had left for her. The scratched and faded E- letter gave way not to a letter, but to a number — just a number: 8.
"Foolish brother… please survive."
___________________________________________________
"Boy, how long are you going to stand in front of the door?"
"Sorry… it's just that…"
I was still fascinated by the building in front of me. After all, it easily pierced through the clouds, vanishing into the sky.
"This hick must be from the farms. Let's go, Daddy."
I stepped inside and moved aside to let a pot-bellied man and a black-haired young woman with a cold, distant expression pass.
Nobles.
I recognized it by the subtle contempt in the word "farms." To them, anyone from the colony was merely replacement stock for the Oasis — like cattle or chicken. Losses always had to be replaced. The Oasis system didn't care about quality; quantity was enough. And we, from the colonies, were the solution.
Those who lived outside the domes always seemed rushed. Their clothes were extravagant and, curiously, uncomfortable. What truly took my breath away was the architecture: everything megalomaniacal, excessive, unnecessary — and yet, fascinating.
"All summoned individuals, report to the main hall in ten minutes."
This time, I paid attention. That was why I had driven for nearly four hours.
Upon entering, the building seemed even larger inside. The ceiling easily surpassed twenty meters. I didn't know exactly where the main hall was, but the cluster of people of different ethnicities in the center of the lobby was a good clue.
I walked toward the group.
Around us, large square structures housed men and women in exotic garments — varying in shape, color, and material.
"Hey, you… Hey!"
A man in a military uniform approached, and I nearly jumped.
"Sorry. I'm looking for the summoned."
He looked me up and down. When he noticed my simple clothes, he relaxed.
"You must be from the colonies. Join the group up front. You'll be called in shortly. Everything will be explained."
I walked over to the group.
As soon as I approached, I felt the stares.
They were sizing me up.
I didn't quite understand why — but I accepted the game and returned the gesture in kind.
"What are you looking at, you pervert?"
The voice belonged to the same girl who had passed earlier with the pot-bellied man. She looked younger than me — maybe around twenty.
Before I could respond, another female voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Young ones, apologies for the delay. We may proceed."
The woman approaching had a serious expression and a long scar across her face — something that, paradoxically, made her presence even more imposing. Her body conveyed strength. Even in loose pants, the muscles in her legs and buttocks were evident. Her firm silhouette, combined with her upright posture, gave her a rare, almost intimidating beauty.
Her indigo hair drew attention — too intense to seem artificial, though genetic modifications had been common for decades. Even so, I couldn't help but think that investing in something like that seemed like an unnecessary luxury.
"All of you were selected to maintain the minimum human presence in the Oasis. I know you've heard many stories — some good, others not so much. But believe me: nothing you've heard compares to reality. The extraordinary always escapes imagination.
I'm here to help you become better than I am.
This scar is proof of the risks you'll face inside."
I tried to remember if I had ever heard anything truly positive about the Oasis, but gave up. No one from Colony 22 who went to the Oasis ever came back. It was hard to see this order as anything other than a sentence.
"Very well. Before we continue, does anyone have any questions or requests?"
The silence was absolute.
"I want to remind you that today is the last time you'll have this freedom for a long time… No one? Excellent. Then let's go."