The cold wind numbed the skin of my fingertips as I took shallow, unsteady breaths. 

Two weeks. It'd been two weeks since Dad and Kora died, and I still hadn't found another place to stay. The cops took one glance at me — some small six-year-old with tattered clothes and no home — and figured I wasn’t worth spending time on. 

Before the president decided to punish law enforcement — and that didn't mean just police — for taking the citizens' side in this rebellion, we used to get a lot more help. I could have gotten more help, if this didn't happen.

But it did. And I was just some tiny, fragile kid. 

So what could I do?

My stomach growled, a light tingling sensation starting up in my throat, enough to sting. I needed food — badly.

Right now, I stood amidst a cold, dark ghost town strewn with dead bodies and crimson bloodstains. The massacre happened a week ago, but to me, it was yesterday. I hadn't seen another live soul in days — not since one of the citizens broke out of their home and pulled everyone into a riot against the Patrollers who enforced the Lockdowns in the first place.

I guess that, on one hand, it didn't matter. We'd all die of starvation and dehydration  from having our fridges locked up soon enough, so this place would have been turned into a gory graveyard anyway,

On the other hand… I wished none of this would have happened at all. What did Codex want with these Exelonians? Why did we have to go and stir all this trouble? Why did we have to go and attack them? When they first migrated to Codex, they weren't hurting anyone with their powers. They wanted shelter and food and jobs. They wanted what their home country didn't have. 

So why did we make this their new hell? Why did we have to go and attack them the minute they stepped in? If we didn't, they wouldn't have fought back, and we wouldn't be in this on-and-off war with them. Yeah, sure, we tried 'made peace' with them at some point, but now that there was this new president with a grudge, all of that just went to waste. The hate just kept coming back. 

And now, this wasn't just the Exelonians' hell. This was all of ours. 

I swallowed down the lump forming in my throat and turn around. Running around in my brain wouldn't do much. I needed food, water, shelter. The easiest way to do that was… get to another district. Wasn't there a nice lady somewhere? Iris's family friend? Mrs. Margaret? She only had Hazel to take care of, so there could have been space for me. She would let me in.

She would've been the best person to stay with right now —

“RALE HARROWS!”

Almost screaming at the sudden uproar, I swiveled around, coming face-to-face with the sight of a hooded man far away from here.

Rale Harrows? That was Rale Harrows? I was seeing the guy himself, in the flesh? Why — how was he here? How did he break out of the Exelonian jail?

The man sprinted across the road, chased by a bunch of ExoGuards. I hadn't seen them since the last of the Exelonians were rounded up.

Wait a moment — those weren't Exoguards. Why were they wearing purple instead of black and blue? What was with this weird "POWERGEN" logo on their shirts?

The ExoGuards — well, that wasn't what they were, but I didn't know what else to call them — tailed Rale from a house on the right to another on the left. But Rale widened the gap between the guards, swiftly leaping  over the dead bodies of Patrollers and citizens beneath his feet, while his pursuers steered and stumbled around them. They flailed their guns, shooting aimlessly at their target.

But one blonde woman sped up, copying Rale’s exact moves. With just a flick of her arm and perfect aim, she pulled the trigger on her weapon.

BOOM!

CRACK!

A scream tore from Rale’s throat as the two bullets ripped right through his shoulder in two different spots. Even from here, I could see the deep wound with blood oozing out, like a gory stream. 

Somehow, after all of today’s vicious murders, I barely flinched at the sight. No disgust sprouted in my chest. I didn't cringe or gulp down vomit or look away. I just stared in interest — 'bad' interest, but still. 

Rale crumpled to the ground as the woman bolted forward, pulling out two glowing purple handcuffs from her belt. 

In a split second, he was all cuffed up again, with a rope tied around his neck. 

"The target has been captured," she called. "Return him back to the prison. I don't know how the hell he escaped…." 

Spitting on Rale's head, she tugged him across the floor by his throat, and even from a distance, I could hear her words, laced with sheer vehemence.

"Vile bastard."

With a jolt, my eyes snapped open and. Slimy cold sweat slicked my forehead. I slowly shoved off my blanket and sat up, gazing into the darkness of my room.

“Stupid dreams again." I sighed.

Flopping back onto the mattress again, I stared up at the ceiling. It was always like this, every time I slept. Random memories resurfaced, but one detail or another was twisted. In this case, my brain replaced the ExoGuards I actually saw with PowerGen guards. Not that terrifying, compared to all the other horrors my mind stirred up.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

My head snapped up, eyes catching onto the green numbers displayed on the digital clock sitting atop my nightstand. It was half past eight, so… only had 30 minutes to get ready. 

I groaned. 

Week six of being in PowerGen. Yay. Amazing. I wasn’t tired or suffering from this at all.

Nope. 

Definitely. Not. 

PowerGen's schedule stand was located right by the registration booth, and it was more crowded than usual today. The lady at the stand typed my name into her computer and printed out my schedule in a flash.

 As I walked away, studying the sheet of laminated  paper in my hand, something caught my eye. Bewildered, I did a double-take on one of the events listed after lunch.

This… This was… new? What was PowerGen doing this for?

I stuck the small sheet in the zip-up pocket of my sweatpants before proceeding down the hallway I came from. My chest tightened with worry. 

New things didn't happen very often in PowerGen — or, at least they hadn't so far. But this was the first odd change, and something about it made me horribly uncomfortable.

The cafeteria was drastically different compared to my first day here. Over the weeks, PowerGen had gathered up thirty-five superhumans in total. Now there was chatter in the room rather than dead silence or glares from Adalynne, who started to lay off on me — although I still spotted her shouting at Cillian during breakfast (like right now; her shrill voice stuck out amongst the chatter in, although I couldn't make out what exactly she was saying.)

No matter how many people there were, though, you'd hear them all complain about one thing: PowerGen. About its unfair treatment and tedious routines that sucked the life out of you. Half the people in here didn't even look like they had a soul anymore.