The History That Repeated Itself

As promised, Alex ventured into the Scabs area, led by a Scab who arrived early the following day to escort him. Lydia and the family couldn't join him today; each had their own duties. Jeb needed to return to guard the treasure cove while Lydia and Linda were volunteering as teachers and caretakers at the local school.

As they walked through the district, Alex noticed its peculiarities. Many parts looked like abandoned city areas, creating a maze of disused buildings. Crumbling facades of old shops and apartments loomed on either side of narrow, winding streets. Rusting metal signs clung to their mounts, advertising businesses that had long since closed. Vines and wildflowers claimed the cracked sidewalks, adding an eerie beauty to the desolation.

Graffiti covered every available surface, some artistic and poignant, telling stories of the district's past, while other parts were mere scribbles of rebellion. Broken windows and doors hung askew, revealing darkened interiors filled with shadows and memories. A once-grand theatre, its marquee letters missing or askew, stood as a silent sentinel of a bygone era, its entrance choked with weeds.

It struck Alex as a massive waste of space. In the Empaths' section, families like Lydia's were cramped into tiny, improvised homes, while here lay vast expanses ripe for use. The contrast was stark and unsettling.

"Why does no one use these areas in the district?" Alex asked, curiosity piqued by the vast emptiness.

The guide paused, a sombre expression crossing her face. "Well, as you can see, these areas are the remnants of the collapsed world. The original city that was once here was hit hard when the first few conflicts broke out, and the damage was so extensive that rebuilding became nearly impossible. Besides, we lack the tools and resources to reconstruct them in the first place."

Alex nodded, "It seems like such a waste," he murmured.

"It does," the guide agreed. "But, you know, we make do with what we have. Find ways to thrive amidst the ruins. That's the way of life for us Scabs."

The guide turned to Alex with a smile. "I just realised I haven't introduced myself. My name is Mira. I've lived with the Scabs my whole life. I work for Elder Wendigo as her assistant."

"Nice to meet you, Mira. I'm Alex," he replied, offering a hand.

Mira shook it firmly. "It's quite an honour to be personally invited by Elder Wendigo. She doesn't extend invitations lightly."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Really? I didn't realise it was such a big deal. It seemed so natural for her when she invited me."

"Oh, it is," Mira nodded. "Elder Wendigo is highly respected here, even outside the Scabs community. She sees potential in people, and if she's invited you to her home personally, it means that she sees something special in you. Few get this chance."

Alex felt a mix of pride and curiosity. "Well, I look forward to meeting her again and learning more about your community."

Mira smiled, her eyes twinkling. "I think you'll find the Scabs full of surprises. Between you and me, I think we're a strange bunch of people. But we're good people."

They walked a bit further until Mira stopped and turned to Alex with a grin. "We've reached the Scabbard."

Alex looked around, taking in the sight. Makeshift homes and workshops created from salvaged materials sprawled before him, forming a unique tapestry of creativity and survival. People moved about, busy with their tasks, but many paused to glance at the newcomer with curious eyes.

"Welcome to our home," Mira said proudly. "This is the heart of the Scabs, the Scabbard. It's where we transform what we find in the Outer and the stuff the city discards into something valuable."

As they continued deeper into the Scabbard, Alex felt a growing sense of anticipation, eager to uncover this remarkable place's secrets and Elder Wendigo's wisdom.

Reaching a relatively well-built home, Mira approached the door and knocked gently. Almost immediately, it swung open to reveal Elder Wendigo in her eerie form, her presence commanding and mysterious.

"Madam," Mira greeted, bowing her head slightly. "I have brought Alex from the Empaths as instructed."

Elder Wendigo nodded, her eyes shifting to Alex with a mix of curiosity and approval. "Thank you, Mira." She then turned her attention to Alex, her gaze intense but kind. "Welcome, Alex. Please, come in."

Stepping inside, Alex was struck by the eclectic interior. The home was filled with strange objects of all shapes and sizes, resembling a collector's trove of oddities. He recognised many items: a dusty world globe, old world maps framed on the walls, and an assortment of faulty-looking digital devices, including televisions with broken screens and radios with missing speakers.

"Make yourself comfortable," Elder Wendigo said, gesturing towards the living room.

Understanding her unspoken command, Mira disappeared into the kitchen to prepare tea. Elder Wendigo led Alex to a cosy seating area with an elaborate setup clearly intended for a lengthy conversation. Alex sat down in a cushioned chair that seemed prepared just for him while Elder Wendigo adjusted herself on a uniquely ornate couch that suited her form.

As Alex settled into his seat, he observed the room's unique details. Shelves lined with books, jars filled with curious specimens, and antique trinkets spoke of a deep and varied history. The atmosphere was thick, with stories waiting to be told, and the lit fireplace beside him added a comfortable warmth, perfect and optimal for some storytelling.

Mira soon returned, carrying a tray with a steaming teapot and delicate cups. She set it on the coffee table between them and poured the tea with practised elegance before slipping out of the room, leaving them in privacy.

Elder Wendigo took a sip of her tea, her movements deliberate and graceful. She then fixed her gaze on Alex. "So, Alex, what are you most interested in learning about today?"

Alex took a moment to gather his thoughts, appreciating her question. "Well," he began, "I'm not really sure where to begin asking either. But I'm currently most curious about the place we live in now. About the city, about the district, I know nothing about this place."

Elder Wendigo's eyes sparkled with a hint of amusement. "Heh heh, then let me start from the very beginning, then."

---

In the ancient annals of time, when the world government emerged, society underwent a profound transformation. Ascension, the new global authority, decreed an end to the use of the gene manipulation serum and banned all further human enhancement experiments. Survivors of the previous chaos, especially those who endured the horrors of the GAP, welcomed this law with open arms.

Peace settled over the world, and humanity began the grand task of rebuilding. The scars of past conflicts started to fade as people united in a common purpose. Together, they constructed the first neo-city, Pandora, a marvel of innovation and harmony.

Towering spires of glass and steel gleamed under the sun, while verdant parks and serene plazas offered places of respite and reflection. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and industry as communities flourished, cultures blended, and new art forms blossomed. Hope and cooperation became the new currency of this era, symbolised by the vibrant festivals and public gatherings that celebrated their shared future.

But this newfound tranquillity was fleeting. Before long, old fears resurfaced. Those untouched by the genetic experiments viewed the mutants with suspicion, seeing them as potential threats to society. Whispered schemes of elimination began to circulate.

In time, a faction of scientists, driven by their disdain for mutants, discovered a means to augment themselves with technology, sparking the cybernetic craze. Initially, the world government condemned these advancements. However, corruption wormed its way into the heart of Ascension, and the prohibition on human experimentation was rescinded.

This reversal ignited fierce resistance from the mutants, who had learned from history's harsh lessons. They protested peacefully, but their pleas were ignored. The obsession with cybernetic enhancements grew rampant among the ruling elite, who soon mandated these upgrades for all citizens, arguing it was essential to prevent past tragedies.

The mutants refused to comply. Some chose to rebel, aspiring to be the heroes who would avert humanity's repeated folly. But this time, their resistance was crushed. The world government had secretly developed cybernetic soldiers, far more powerful than any mutant. The rebellion was used as a pretext to exile the dissenting mutants, banishing them to the desolate wilderness known as the Outer.

Those mutants who did not rebel were ostracised and confined to the harsh Genesis District, forcibly segregated from the rest of society. Meanwhile, the cybernetic craze consumed the city, slowly transforming its citizens into ruthless cyborgs. The mutants who resisted such enhancements were branded with a derogatory term: the Flawed.

As centuries passed, new cities rose across the globe, but Pandora remained neglected. Today, it stands as the only bastion of the Flawed, a place where they are scorned, mistreated, and left to fend for themselves. The saga of Pandora and its Flawed inhabitants serves as a sombre reminder of humanity's cyclical nature of fear and oppression...

---

As Elder Wendigo concluded her tale of world history and revealed the true nature of the Flawed, a wave of sadness and worry washed over Alex. He recalled the optimistic faces of all those he had met, now seeing the hidden layer of oppression that underpinned their lives. The stark contrast between their outward positivity and the harsh reality of their existence struck him deeply.