Clouds converged in the sky as the sun stood high; the bell tower's ringing knell would've signalled noon, but only a memory would be heard in its stead.
The decrepit building had long since fallen, crumbled under the weather and ages.
Silenced is its golden shell, which spoke of the time and foretold ordeals.
Important was the ringer, who was never known by one name, but whose purpose had always remained the same.
Immortalised, they were, for their identity never changed—Martyrs fighting for more than what they're worth.
...
Granted shade by the darkening clouds, Ruth and Rene traverse the stone-paved streets.
Ordinary houses surrounded them.
Remnants of daily life could be seen in the mouldy signs above doors, rusted bikes forgotten on the side of the road, and
Their progress was slow—Ruth's gauze-packed injury bled, while Rene was carrying a limp body on his back.
"Anapaou can be divided into five districts; the northern and eastern ports make up two districts. Those are likely where other survivors of the fleet will wash ashore. That also means those scumbags are likely surrounding those districts en masse."
Rene was recalling Ruth's words as they trudged through alleyways.
"Market District, Housing District, and... the Militia District. Our best option is the Market District; a cellar would be most preferable to camp out. Since we know of an outpost within the south of the Market District, we'll head the other way."
And surely, they did find suitable refuge.
Rene forced open a door, entering the backroom of a liquor store, quickly assessing, "No one is in here."
Ignoring the cabinets and shelves, Rene eventually approached a set of closed, dark wooden doors embedded into the ground.
He kneeled to pry the cellar doors; a mere padlock kept the doors shut, one which he tore apart with ease.
The wooden cellar doors groaned as they moved for the first time since abandonment.
An intense, musty smell blasted across Rene's face, not that it affected him.
Taking a careful step, Rene planted his boot on the first stone step, descending into the cellar.
It was dark at the bottom, where a faint pita-pat echoed in the space. Even in the dark, Rene could make out what was within the Cellar.
Wooden shelves lined with barrels and bottles, a vent dripping with condensation in one of the corners, and a cabinet against the wall.
"It's clear down here."
Rene called out. As he placed the limp body on the cellar ground, Ruth also descended the stairs, instructing,
"Secure the doors leading to the backrooms."
...
Both the back door and the door leading to the store's front were barricaded by the heavy wooden shelves upstairs.
Ruth's Comm. Device was the only source of light in the cellar. The stale air was far from comfortable, but it was tolerable.
The overall atmosphere wasn't better than that of the one-story home they had occupied before, but the safety was reassuring.
Rene sat over the limp body, the woman from the fountain with a distinct tattoo on her throat,
"This is one of Jean's Cleaners... Rose..."
He scrutinised the limp woman, Rose's body, seeing no injuries on her face or clothing, even her hair wasn't terrible dishevilled—like Ruth's.
"The cause of her unconscious state could be a result of internal failure. It may also be a result of a programming error..." Ruth quietly analysed, leaning back against the stairs.
"We have to wake her up, no? It would prove beneficial when we retaliate against Pandemonium, right?"
"..." Ruth didn't reply immediately, sitting in contemplation.
She turned off her Comm. Device, the red glow fading into total darkness, conserving its battery.
"It is more in our favour to leave her behind."
"Leave her behind?" Rene was puzzled, raising a brow towards the woman on the stairs.
"There's little chance we can awaken her, and considering her unusual and unexplainable state of unconsciousness, there is no guarantee that she will be functional.
"Most likely, she will be dead weight."
Ruth's blunt words held no remorse.
"Though I should clarify, I intend to use her as a diversion. A lure for the scum of pandemonium."
"Isn't that a little too cruel...? At the very least, we can try to awaken her."
"I can't assess her condition; it would be difficult to awaken her blindly," Ruth couldn't see in the dark, but her gaze met Rene's eyes anyway.
"This shouldn't be a concern for you, Captain Rene. This 'Rose' is a Cleaner assigned under Captain Jean's unit. She is not your responsibility; her state should not be your worry."
Without a proper rebuttal, Rene went silent for a moment, but unexplainable and conflicting thoughts sparked in his mind, urging him to speak,
"But... do we have to use her as a diversion? We can't just 'leave her behind' here and come back for her later?"
"That would be of no use to us.
"She will be serving a purpose, even while unconscious, as a diversion, a bell ringer, if you will. Just as we were lured to the location of a Cleaner, Pandemonium won't overlook a cleaner themselves.
"We are lucky to have even found her unmarred by scummy hands, as suspicious as that is."
"Serving a purpose..." Rene murmured, eyes downcast towards the unconscious Rose.
"Must I remind you? The purpose of our fleet was to reclaim Zenith.
"Our fleet, 'A New Tomorrow', had failed, but we continue. She failed her greater purpose, but she can serve a lesser purpose. She can aid our chances of survival and of fulfilling our original purpose; she is contributing to a greater purpose. That's all that matters.
"Of course, you and I aren't exceptions. Our lives are for one greater purpose, too, and we may die for this greater purpose. You understand that, no?"
Ruth concluded, her tone indicating that she'd no longer entertain this discussion.
And what she said was true, Rene understood, how utterly one-dimensional his life was.
Even as those 'sparks' in his mind wanted to deny such a thought, he couldn't refuse them.
"I understand, Overseer."
"Good."
Both voices had concluded in agreement, their arguments falling into silence—near silence, as Ruth's shallow breaths filled the dark cellar.
Ruth leaned on her side, feeling the pain gently receding from her abdomen.
"Uh... Overseer..." Rene called out with an awkward tone.
"What is it?"
But what answered her was not Rene's voice, but a soft rustling, and a faint whir, prompting Ruth to turn her Comm. Device back on to shine the light before her.
The once-unconscious Rose had sat up, whose right eye darted to the source of the red light.
"You..."