It was morning.
Extract is not one blessed with the grace of a sun or moon. It is simply bright by morning and dark by night, with illusory few bright dots in the sky that play pretend as the sun, moon, and stars.
Awoken by the bright yellow beams that shone through the windows, Deon left his bed to prepare for the day ahead.
The apartment was more than pleasant. Simple by the seams of it, but luxurious for its Zone D locale—even this fairly sized unit would fetch quite a high sum.
The design was fairly simple, although the arrangement was quite odd and quirky, likely due to the previous tenant's whims. The odd bit was that a person entering the apartment would sooner be greeted with a bedroom rather than a living room. Just a little further to the right of the bed was the door out. To the left, a fairly large curtained window.
It was far from a studio, however, with a decently sized balcony running along the side of the living room and a kitchen running along the other side. The bedroom and living room joined together seamlessly, with the only indication of separation being a wooden frame that ran for no more than a quarter of the stretch between the two doors. On the right of the frame was the door to the apartment, and to the left, the door to the washroom.
*Knock knock knock.*
"You'd better be ready." The warning echoed through the walls, permeating the door. And normally, rightfully, it would have rung wise and true.
Today, however, was not one of those days. Today was a special day—not one for laziness and lethargy.
"I'd better not need to remind you what day it is today!" Fiona yelled from across the door, clearly already in a foul mood.
*Clack.*
"No, you need not..." spoke Deon, dressed and ready as he swung the door open. A rare bright smile lit his face—childhood innocence and excitement. "...today, I become a hunter."
A cab idled for the two downstairs. The city gleamed with a bright golden glow for him today. All was sunshine and rainbows, even as the clouds grew thicker and the world around grew more grey than thought possible.
The cab sped through the lanes, the driver hell-bent on a timely arrival.
"Here we are... The Awakeners Institute of Vrath," the driver gleefully broke the silence. "Should reach about 30 minutes ahead of the appointed schedule, too," he spoke proudly, cutting through the traffic.
And what a marvelous structure it was—a masterpiece of architectural creativity. It was not a building. It was a temple, designed like one. A place of worship holier than the grandest cathedrals, emanating an aura of resilience and glory.
Words failed its divinity. Every curve breathed obsessive care. A horizontal lotus bud—petals frozen mid-bloom, gleaming white, tilted just shy of opening. Half-emerged from earth, like it belonged there.
"I was a photographer once. There's this crazy angle to the building—from the hill on the north in the morning, when the water fountains are off, and the water in the artificial pond behind is completely still. Get your camera low enough to the ground, and it reflects the building with such perfection—it's like, ah, symmetry. You get to see the other half of the lotus. Should have just retired then and there..." the driver rambled, no longer facing the stress of a timely arrival.
"It's beautiful indeed... especially the other half remains in the ground... kind of symbolic. Half the applicants die during their awakening, after all. Bet the architect thought of that, too, when building this masterpiece. The basement is basically a mortuary—designed to be just that, half lying across the ground. Genius," Fiona commented.
"Oh, for fuck's sake, the success rate is 64.4%," Deon snapped at the remark clearly aimed at his high spirits and jovial mood. "How is that half?"
"Hahah," the driver chuckled.
"For fuck's sake? Who willingly climbs into a pod they might never walk out of? You're literally stepping into the jaws of death!" Fiona snapped back. "Tch. Don't know how you convinced Father."
"I was born with a peculiarity, so my odds go up 25%—closer to 90%!" Deon argued.
"You can't be serious—that's your argument? Can't believe you're actually going through with this. This is lunacy..." Fiona grumbled, giving up.
"Well, if I can't be a hunter, I'd rather be dead anyway, so it works out great, I'd say, perfect math," came Deon's heavy response.
"Haha, Had the same fire when I was younger. I just didn't have the resources to even try. It's admirable—the younger generation still wants to pursue being hunters. I understand it grows out of fashion these days..." the driver grinned.
"Don't encourage him," Fiona grumbled from the other end of the back seat.
To Be Continued==>