Chapter Text

Year 296

-Day 0-

-Apartment 13-

Marfusha

The alarm of a clock goes off. Not the usual one, which is provided to every place of residence. But my personal clock. Not loud, but enough to wake me.

It goes off, as usual, a few hours before wake-up time. Given my occupation, I need to get to work before everyone wakes up.

Awakening to the noise, I reach over and silence it, and begin my usual routine. Heading to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

The toothbrush bristles are frayed, and the toothpaste is bland.

I stare into the mirror, take in my features... rather unimpressive. Brown hair, red eyes. Not really tall, but not super short.

I'm wearing the same rationed outfit I've always worn.

Gray dress. Brown leggings.

I brush my hair as I exit the bathroom. I feel the long strands of my hair separate before draping uniformly down my back once again.

The brush is old, and some parts are broken off. There are chips in the plastic, and the paint has been scraped off.

I move into the 'kitchen', which is, in actuality, a gray concrete counter against the wall. I make a sandwich.

Bread, cheese, and 'meat'. The usual.

Then I make another: rye bread, turkey, and cheddar.

Snezhinka's favorite.

I look over my shoulder, towards her bed, against the other side of the wall. She managed to sleep soundly through my alarm.

I love my sister. More than anything. Or anyone.

She's all the family I have left, all the family I want.

I couldn't imagine my life without her.

... I wish I could just stay home. But I shouldn't complain. My job isn't bad.

I head towards the door, put on my gray shoes, and grab my gun. A Ka42. The people's pistol.

I leave, taking a final peek back towards Snezhinka.

(She'll be fine. I'll be back.

As long as I do my job, our life remains like this. Quiet. Peaceful.)

So I leave, close the door behind me, and make my trek to 13th Street.

-Kazormia-

-East District-

I look around.

Take it in.

No one else is awake right now. The streets are empty. I can see this country for what it is.

Gray.

Everywhere you look, there's just concrete, some of which is cracking and overgrown, and other places are covered by graffiti.

Those untouched have awful paint jobs from the government. 

But one thing really catches my eye.

There's an orange glow emanating from everything: street lights, piping, neon signs, vending machines.

Apparently, this is some new power source they're working on, heat generated through electricity, used as an energy source for practically everything.  

They say that it's a much safer and cleaner source of energy...

(Whatever, it's not my job to worry about.

I need to get to work.)

...

... ...

-13th Street-

I arrive at my job, a bakery. Feeling myself relax subconsciously, I walk up the wooden steps.

13th Street Nosecone Bakery is much nicer than most of Kazormia; its wooden accents aren't much, but they're appreciated. 

I don't really care about looks that much, though, as long as what I'm doing has meaning, I'd be content.

Still, it is rather quaint.

I clock in, and the day goes by. I take the initiative, head into the back, and start preparing some bread and pastries.

I hear the door ring a bell as it swings open, and my boss walks in. "Hey Marfusha, early as always." 

"Uh huh."

"I suppose that's a good thing. Wish I was like that." They turn on the necessary equipment as they move past me. Practically sliding across the building.

"Yeah, but... I think you're already doing enough, though."

Their expression shifts, a spark dying. "Heh. Nobody's doing enough, Marfusha."

"... I guess not."

"This great country of ours will always need more."

"I suppose so."

"... well then, let's kick into gear. People want some bread!"

They flip the open sign, and we get into motion. 

I've always liked my boss. They know how to motivate people. They give so much meaning to work. 

It's infectious. It makes me feel like... like what I'm doing matters. 

As time passes, customers come in, and I take their orders.

It's nice. Watching as they receive the food that they might've been saving for weeks to get. It's nice to see them happy. If only for this moment. 

whatever little meaning it has.

At least I can say I'm glad with what I provide.

Finally, the orders fizzle out, and it's time to head home.

"Alright," I stretch, pulling my arms up behind my head. "I'm clocking out."

"Yep, good work today, see you next shift." They don't bother to glance at me, merely cleaning something.

I felt like saying something... but I decided just to walk out.

...

... ...

... ... ...

-Apartment 13-

I finally get to go home and spend the final hours of my day relaxing. And as usual, I open the door to my favorite sight.

"Welcome back, Marfusha!" She runs at me, arms open, capturing me in a hug. "How was your day?" She looks up at me, her red eyes shining, sweet as ever.

Despite us sharing the same eye and hair color, she's always seemed so much... softer. Maybe it's cause her hair is short...

Snezhinka is only three years younger than me. Technically old enough to start doing labor now. But she doesn't work mainly because I don't want her to.

Only I need to work for us to be fine. I make more than enough... well, slightly, more than enough, but still. We're more well off than most, so there's really no reason for her to get involved.

Besides, she should be able to focus on schoolwork; I'd hate to overwhelm her with responsibilities.

"My day was fine."

"Anything interesting happen?"

"Just the usual."

"Okay then. What do you want to do today?"

"Hmm... why don't we go visit the shooting range today?"

"Yay! I'd love to."

"Ok then, let's go."

...

-Sport shooting range-

I've made it a habit to go to the firing range more than others do. I guess... I don't really have a reason why. I just have.

It feels like I should...

I've started bringing Snezhinka recently. 

She started secondary school 3 years ago, so she's had plenty of experience with guns already. I just figured she should be... better than others.

For a few reasons.

Once we approach the target practice area, I take out my gun, A Ka42, the people's pistol.

Everyone has used one.

Everyone owns one.

Given our universal conscription law, it's part of our education.

Though most major members of the military now use Gauss weapons. This traditional gunpowder handgun is decent. Seven-round magazine, Accurate, good firepower, but it's still just a handgun. Only really meant to be a fallback. 

But I don't own anything else.

Kazormia doesn't typically hand out equipment, and I see no reason to get something more substantial. There's no point. Besides, it's comfortable.

I remember taking it apart and putting it back together. I know every inch of this weapon.

I stare at it, resting in my hand.

I take in its familiar weight.

The cold metal.

This device is capable of taking a life. Easily.

I aim down the sights, directing my shot towards the "head" of the target.

-Bang!-

A shot rings out, a casing clattering to the floor.

The sound echoes through the building.

A target crumbles, then is replaced.

I hand the gun to Snezhinka.

She does the same.

-Bang!-

She barely hits the center of the chest.

Good enough, and I'm sure she'll get better.

Besides, only I really need to be good with a gun.

I let her fire some more shots, and eventually we move on.

We head home, not much else to do.

-Apartment 13-

I lie on my bed, simply being there.

Snezhinka is reading a picture book, being mostly quiet.

(... Quiet...

I like my life right now; it's peaceful...

But this country... part of me is getting worried about the news...

But it's not my job to think about. I don't get to change what happens.

I'll just do my job, as best I can.)

And with that. We go to bed.

Ready to begin the same routine tomorrow...

...

... ...

... ... ...

-Day 1-

My alarm goes off. I wake up. Prepare for my day. Snezhinka woke up from my alarm this time. I tell her just to try to sleep.

But...

All of a sudden...

-Knock!-

Five raps at the door.

Snezhinka gets out of bed. She wants to know what's happening. I tell her to wait. 

I approach the door myself.

I creak it open, finding three men at my door.

Two guards, clad in brown. 

And a man in a suit between them.

He simply hands me a letter.

I skim it.

I've been drafted.

I'll be a 'Gate guard'; apparently, it's a new position being created, adjacent to the national army.

"You start today, we expect you to be at District 13 within three hours. That is all. Thank you for your service to this great country. And remember, this is a gracious opportunity given by our supreme leader."

"Understood, sir..."

The men leave.

Snezhinka is scared... "Marfusha?... what's happening?"

"I-... I need to go, to serve our country."

"But... what about the bakery?"

"This is more important."

"But... what if... what if you get hurt?" She's getting upset.

I pat her on the head and reassure her, "Snezhinka, I'll only be gone for a while, don't worry, I'll be back. Then, we'll go back to normal. But this... this is more important, it's for our... great country..."

She doesn't really seem to buy it. "... You...  promise, you'll be okay?"

"Promise."

"Okay... see you soon, Marfusha."

She flashes me a smile on my way out.

(She'll be fine. We've only ever needed each other. And we will have each other. I'll come back. And we'll be happy.

I'll do the job, and I'll do it well.

I'll do my best. I need to. I don't want to die, after all.)

...

... ...

... ... ...

-Dormitory-

Once I reach my assigned location, I find someone outside the dormitory—a man in uniform, brown with gold accents, checking my personal document.

"Passive attitude, brown hair, red eyes..." As he's half-heartedly rattling off the details, he leans in to make sure I'm the person in the picture, then returns to reading. "Works as a bakery clerk for the Nosecone Bakery on Thirteenth Street. Entered Rosnui Agricultural High School on 295... this sounds about right?"

"Yes, sir." 

With my response, he lost interest, finally performing the practiced motion of grabbing a room key for me. "Head on in then."

"Of course, sir," I mumble out the usual response, take the key, and walk right past him.

...

"Here it is. Room 13." I unlock the door and enter my room.

It's a rather grimy place, consisting primarily of mossy concrete, held up by rusting copper support beams. Tons of announcement speakers dotting the room, hung by exposed wires on every beam, pipe, or light.

Near the door, there's a phone. (Maybe I should call home with that...) An automat machine to serve rationed meals, next to it is a mini fridge with one drink in it.

There's a bunk-bed in the middle of the room, against the wall. (Don't know why it's not a regular bed, I'm the only one here.) A TV is placed at its side, facing the bed. It broadcasts the news as usual, alongside a speaker wrapped around a beam beside the bed. Endlessly spouting the 'natural' way to act. 

Finally, in the back, there's a clothesline to hang up my clothes, as well as a vaguely functional washing machine... 

The usual Kazormian room, really.

-Knock!-

"I'm coming in!"

My thoughts are interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by a curt entrance.

As she enters, I take in her appearance. Seemingly, she's roughly my age. She has long blonde hair tied into pigtails that flow down her chest and light red eyes. 

"You must be Ms. Marfusha, who was just assigned today."

Immediately, I note that she is undoubtedly not as bored as the last guy. So she's probably a newbie. She gives a complementary bow, and with that, she begins what I assume is the usual spiel.

"I'll be your supervisor here. My job is to make every incompetent low-rank person more useful to our country. You'll be a gate guard, as I'm sure you've been informed."

(She speaks with a particular tone, firm and stoic, like it's routine. She seems well composed. But it betrays her somehow... This is something I'd expect from one of the guys outside.

She's probably just over-compensating.)

"Just stand in front of Gate 13, and attack anything on sight, no matter what it is. Nothing coming in has good intentions, so don't hesitate. You'll just be dealing with the stragglers who have slipped past the front lines, so it should be simple."

"Alright, I look forward to working with you," I speak in an admittedly robotic tone, tacking on a slight bow.

"Oh, uh..." The Inspector seems a little surprised for some reason, averting her gaze and losing her rhythm. "Well, I look forward to it as well..." She fumbles a bow.

(Well, I guess I was right about the newbie part.)

I stare at her in silence, waiting for her to make her exit. But she seems to get a little flustered from my staring, blushing before abruptly making for the door.

"Well then, I'll be on my way! Good luck with your work here!" She slams the door behind her in her rush...

Shrugging, I move on to organizing the rationed clothes I brought. It's all the same outfit, of course, a black and gray dress with brown leggings. The Inspector was wearing the same thing, so I guess it's common throughout the whole country.

Before long, though, I hear someone running outside the door... All of a sudden, the Inspector rushes back in, panting a little.

"S-sorry to barge in, I..." She pauses, averting her gaze once again, but this time... maybe out of guilt? Her tone is much less... forced. She hands me my appointment letter, bowing in apology." I-I forgot to give you this."

I take the letter, maybe a little too frimly.

"I'll be on my way. Um... officially this time." She says kind of awkwardly, before returning to her original tone. "Your shift starts in an hour. I'll check in every ten days. See you then, soldier."

"Understood," I respond, staring at the paper.

She creaks open the door, but pauses on her way out.

"Also... I humbly apologize for my failure to deliver the letter and, consequently, for not properly fulfilling my duty here. I shall better myself before our next meeting." She gives a salute and vanishes behind the metal door.

With that, she's gone. Though that apology felt unnecessary, I suspect it wasn't really meant for me.

(... Maybe it wasn't overcompensation; guess she felt more...

Pressured.

Practiced. Makes sense, she is in charge here...

She should be practiced... she needs to be.

I shouldn't think about it. Not my job.)

I open the letter.

From today onwards,

Please defend our border gates.

We promise you raises and bonuses

if you can prevent damage.

If the gate suffers more than 50% damage,

Repair fees will be deducted from your salary.

We wish you much success.

(Makes sense, results determine salary... as long as I'm good enough, it'll be fine....

Just kill anything on sight, it's easy. I've shot a gun before; we all have. This is no different; all I need to do is guard a gate.)

...

... ...

-Outside the Wall-

-Gate 13: Main Entrance-

Once I left my room, I took the outfit assigned to me and put it on when I got to the Wall.

It's a brown-and-gold coat with a pouch and some belts, speckled with the black-and-red highlights from the random technology attached. Some kind of gate guard uniform, I suspect.

There's a strange, long strap of red fabric hanging off the back, the look of a chaotic sine wave engraved in yellow, and ending in a belt connector. I think I've seen this on some soldier's uniform before, but I have no clue what it is.

(I... I think it's glowing slightly...

Whatever.)

Once I'm dressed, I stand outside the gate. My handgun is ready. Attention is dedicated to defending the gate behind me.

...

And yet nothing. Nobody has approached yet. I guess there aren't many stragglers. (That's good.)

The wall is massive, though for some reason it's only about a story tall. However, its length is hard to overstate, as it's built to surround the entire country. (To keep us all safe, I'm sure....)

The Gate itself is a mess of glowing technology and dull metal. Along with barbed wire installed on top, accompanied by a few announcement speakers.

There are a bunch of tiny lamp posts in front, all currently off.

(This has to be way too many lamps, there's like eight just in front of me. Plus, they are barely off the ground, just placing a lantern down would be a more efficient use of resources...)

-Beep Beep Beep-

My thoughts are interrupted by the flashing lights on and around the Gate, a minor alarm blaring alongside them.

I scan the horizon and spot something approaching... It's kind of a letdown, honestly.

Approaching is a robot of some kind, about my height. It's bipedal, rectangular-shaped, has decent-looking dark, metal armor, and some sort of gun installed on the front.

Regardless, I prepare for combat, and I make sure my handgun is loaded as I inch closer. The mech merely continues at a static pace towards the gate. 

-Bang!-

I fire until the magazine is empty. It's severely damaged, but it still operates normally. More interestingly, it isn't retaliating, simply walking. In fact, it walks right past me.

As I reload, it goes straight to the gate and starts firing. Not that it does much damage. I quickly finish it off with a second magazine.

Suddenly,

An explosion goes off, engulfing and almost entirely vaporizing the mech. (I guess they don't want us studying the leftovers...

Well... I guess my shift is over. Seems like this'll be simple enough.)

...

... ...

... ... ...

-Dormitory-

-Room 13-

Payslip

Pay - Base pay 18 - Perfect Defense Bonus 1

Deductions - Gate repair 0 - Income tax 3 - Pension 1 - Unemployment 0 - Resident Tax 1 - Rent 6 - Utility Costs 2 -Telephone Bill 1

Total Tax -15

Total Salary  4

(Not quite as good as the bakery, but this is for my country, I suppose, so I should be proud...)

The speaker crackles on as the TV continues its relentless regurgitation of the news.

• *pledge your body to your country!*
  

• ""We've recently made good ground against the alliance! During a raid on...""

• *Remember that working for your country is more honorable than working for yourself!*

(Be proud of what I'm doing... because my country deserves my effort... I guess that makes sense, that's just how things are.

That's what I need to do.

I need to do my best, to give myself to the country...

After all, I don't want to die.)