District 1.4.7.3
Once known as the city of Gaio, its name was erased after the Third World War, known by the masses as the Great War.
The new world government, aiming for unity, claimed, "Names gave individuality," thus the use of numbers to identify geographical areas.
In an empty alley of the district, space seemed to warp, barely visible sparks of lightning spontaneously sparkling.
Wind surged towards the warp in space, dust and litter flying into it, then...
A blinding bolt struck, a figure emerging from the warped space.
Boris Atem, the lieutenant commander of the world government.
The surging wind halted, calm settling as if nothing had happened in the first place.
"Argh..." He shook his head, quickly taking a military nutrient bar from his pocket.
"This warp gate needs some adjustments," he winced, dissatisfied with the effects of the teleportation device, a privilege only granted to higher military personnel like himself.
"So, where am I?" The side effects elevated, he inquired, checking his surroundings only to find himself in an alleyway.
He had wanted to appear in the mayor's backyard or somewhere closer, but an unknown alleyway was the best the warp device could do.
"Sigh, the coordinates also suck. Well, whatever." He walked out of the alleyway, frowning in annoyance.
This wasn't the time to brood; he had better things to do, and quickly.
This was District 1.4.7.3, his new station, and though his subordinates were yet to get here, he wanted to survey the place first, maybe do one or two things before they arrived.
His boredom driving him
A leader decided to actually take the lead.
He strode out of the alleyway, walking with the majesty of a soldier even though he was dressed like a civilian.
"Whoa, where's this cold wind from?"
He passed by a pedestrian, who shivered as goosebumps rose at the invisible wind, his instincts on high alert from the bear of a man that had passed by.
District 1.4.7.3, soon to experience new winds.
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"E... I... Eff..."
"Huh?" The young lad opened his eyes, stirred awake by the strange sounds.
Struck by the bright lights in the room, he involuntarily shut his eyes, the sudden action not going unnoticed by those who sat beside him.
"Luke, you're awake..." Another voice, high-pitched and clearly familiar, sounded in his ears.
"Asya?!" he wondered, opening his eyes ever so slightly, his gaze meeting the tear-filled eyes of his sister.
"Luke... Sob!!" She bawled her eyes out, resisting the urge to hug him.
As a medical personnel herself, she knew it might open his wounds and thus abstained from it.
"You're awake... We will talk when you get back home," a beautiful black-haired woman said by the side, her face like a painting, a cold painting, as she, despite having her son wake up from a three-week coma, did not show any emotion.
After saying those words, she left the room, not even allowing the boy to say his piece.
The doctor, whose voice had stirred Luke awake earlier, also followed behind her, leaving Luke and his sister alone.
"Don't mind her. You know she cares," Asya tried to comfort her brother, Luke only forcing a smile.
Luckily, due to the anesthesia, he felt little to no pain, such gestures would have caused him discomfort otherwise.
"How long was I out?" he asked.
Unable to move his neck, he looked at his body.
From the full-body cast, he was sure they had tried to kill him.
"Three weeks, five days, thirteen hours, thirty minutes..." She paused, looking at her watch. "Twenty-nine seconds," she added with a teasing smile.
Luke couldn't help but roll his eyes; his sister had always been a bit over the top.
But...
He smiled slightly. She truly cared for him to keep track of him to this extent.
"Wasn't it a light beating? How come I was unconscious for that long?" he decided to ignore his sister antics and ask.
"Well, you know who..." she whispered, Luke's pupils dilating as he realized who she was talking about.
Their mother, though she behaved cold, was too overprotective.
"How is the girl?" he asked, deliberately changing the topic from his mother.
Asya, ever so observant, noticed but didn't say anything, aware of the tension between the two.
She decided to respect his wishes.
"She's alright. She's been coming here for a while now, though she didn't get the chance to meet you considering you're a mummy," she teased playfully, poking at his cast.
"Thank God I didn't get beaten for nothing. And what of those guys..." he asked, his tone sharp.
They were a cruel bunch, to try and kidnap and beat him to this extent.
This was the first time he had been beaten to such a degree.
"Mom took care of them. I don't know where they are..." Asya shrugged.
She had wanted a piece of them, but their mom had gotten her network to handle it.
She was sure they were dead, or at least wished they were.
Their mother had her ways.
"She really did..." Luke thought but quickly shook his head; it was too late for her to behave as if she cared.
"Is the new Novus Heroes in?" he asked about his favorite show, once again changing the subject from his mother.
The two continued to converse about the littlest things, a conversation between a brother and a sister who actually got along.
The brother was covered in bandages, his right leg hanging, his face bandaged.
The sister, beautiful, a younger reflection of her mother, diamond-faced, emerald eyes, and long reddish-brown hair like Luke's.
They looked like a mummy and an Egyptian princess.
...
"...I gotta go. I'll be back to check on you tomorrow..." She stood from her chair, a smile plastered on her face.
"Thanks, Asya..." he thanked her, truly grateful for her small talk.
In the family of three, she was the only one who seemed to care.
Their mother had closed her heart to the world after their father's death, at least that was how Luke saw it.
Asya waved her hand as she stepped out, closing the door behind her.
"I'm really lucky she came to this world before me..." He smiled, glad he had someone to talk to, someone who truly loved him without conditions.
Satisfied, his eyes closed as he tried to get a bit of rest.
"Can I come in?"
A hoarse, intimidating voice sounded behind the door, jolting him out of his drowsiness.
The voice was unfamiliar, but considering this was a hospital, it could be a doctor or someone along those lines.
With that thought in mind, "Yes, you may," he allowed the person in.
Stepping through the door was Boris, the stench of blood heavy around him.
"Hey, little hero..."
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A/N
4/4