Chapter 1. A bad dream

<<Are You Really Okay? - Sleep Token>>

"Shh, hush my love, stay hidden and don't make a sound."

The body of the small girl shook as she lay curled up at the bottom of the small cupboard under the stairs. She watched through the slats, her vision blurred with tears as her mother's body was painted in crimson and darkness. The fear gripped her heart in a vice as she watched with her hands pressed firmly against her mouth to stop from crying out. Glowing eyes met hers through the cracks, as the faint sound of a whimper escaped from her lips.

Love's eyes flew open. Her breath was coming in gasps and a thin sheet of cold sweat coated her forehead.

She shuddered as she struggled to calm her breathing. The memories of her mother's death swirled through her head like poison as her heart beat rapidly.

'I'm so tired of these dreams'

She pushed the palms of her hands against her eyes until she saw stars and flung out an arm groping for the communicator she had left on the metal nightstand.

05:14

Groaning, she turned over wincing at the dim early morning light streaming through the gaps in the metal shutters.

Now 25, Love Aikawa, had spent the past 18 years pulled in different directions. From foster care to foster care to more foster care, she had eventually landed in a small military compound located in one of the outer zones for a full mandatory military service and education. Currently, she and her roommate and colleague Elora, were part of unit 4-7, an assigned military posting within Zone 8 of the city outskirts.

They worked for meagre credits in a small community outpost. Her role focused on the handling of the minor outbreaks of in-fighting, vandalism and theft by human residents of the outer zone, as well as defence against any breaches to the city walls encompassing the border of their zone. Zones 4-9 were commonly referred to as the outskirts as they encircled the safer, cleaner and more affluent hub of central London.

Residing in Zone 8 as a lower class citizen, Love shared a small run-down apartment space with her closest friend and colleague within the military service field, Elora Todesco. Elora was evacuated from the past territory of Italy, after intense flooding across the Mediterranean led to the death of her parents. She was petite, with short chestnut brown hair and warm brown eyes that shined with good humour and intelligence. She was the first friend Love could call her own and often found herself indulging her many whims.

This was how she now found herself anxiously anticipating their evening plans behind the inner city barriers of Zone 2.

Rolling out of bed Love stood up and sighed, studying her reflection in the cracked bedroom mirror. She noted her pale complexion and the dull tired look in her grey eyes. A few layers of make-up would help to mask most of the results of her restless nights, her long black hair would also need to be strategically styled.

'I should really take a page from Elora's book and just cut it off.' She pondered, twirling her broken ends with a frown.

The unhealthy pallor to her skin, weak damaged nails and listless hair were a product of the environment within the outer zones. Despite the availability of air filtration systems, both in residential units, and as portable face masks, the air was still toxic.

Outside of the walls of the city, the harsh environment meant a slow and painful death from lung disease or cancer after only a moderate amount of exposure.

The outskirts therefore, were seen as a safer and better alternative to life outside of the walls, with the partially detoxified air only causing minor side effects, such as general listlessness, poor immune systems and stunted growth. As someone who previously lived within the inner zones where the air was cleaner and housed within a gigantic dome of steel and technical ingenuity, Love was taller than the majority of her peers, but experienced the hardships of outskirt life all the same.

Food and clean water was often scarce, so that even with their regular pay through their military postings, she and her ever jocular roommate often took on gruelling side missions at the extremities of the outer zones to cover their living expenses and additional equipment.

Keeping their bodies healthy was a must for survival, drilled into their minds from an early age, and so each morning Love dutifully moved through her familiar routine for which they had set aside a sizable area in the basement of their ground floor apartment.

Love had spent far longer inside the military compound than was typical, after she was discovered roaming the streets and was subsequently taken in by a certain sympathetic Commander of the 7th Base. After which she was gruellingly taught every means of self defence that he was able to drill into her young mind. This persisted for the better part of 8 years.

But the Commander was old for a human of the outskirts and had passed away a year earlier at the age of 68. Although not without leaving Love with enough credits to keep her and Elora comfortable, a ground floor apartment of their own, and lastly…

Love sighed wistfully as she placed her hand on the last gift that the Commander had left her. Her favourite weapon. She smiled at it slightly, bathed in nostalgia, and then placed it back against the wall, reaching instead for a simulation gun and headset.

**