Hope opened the door to the roof and a rush of mist greeted him with its cool touch. His hair flowed gently as he looked up and viewed the silvery dawn with last night's fog lifting up to the peaks of distant high-rise buildings.
The long night had passed, and it was time to journey again. He had more of a direction and description this time to find Sector Two.
But the only variable that needed awakening was the boy.
"..."
Hope recalled that in the middle of the night, the boy had woken up:
The boy at first twitched himself awake, eyes blinking to see through the darkness of the staircase they were in. A mix of fear, confusion, and worry formed on his face as he tried to recall what happened that night.
If he could recall anything at all.
But the boy started breathing heavily as if he had run a mile or so, looking around in a hurried manner in search for something.
After groping around in the darkness, he accidentally had grabbed onto Hope's boot.
His eyes finally made out the silhouette of Hope's form.
Hope remained silent to observe what kind of reaction the boy would have when he woke up, his own eyes already long adjusting to the darkness.
But that silence only added to the boy's confusion and fear when he realized that he was not alone.
And perhaps, held as a prisoner.
As they locked on each other's gazes, the boy let out a scream.
A shrill cry pierced Hope's ears as the noise bounced off the tight corridor they were in and rattled his hearing. He instantly covered the boy's mouth and forced sleep upon him, watching the process of the boy freezing one second and then collapsing the next.
"Sigh..."
Hope let out a sigh as he stood out on the roof.
He had to find some way to approach the boy when he wakes up.
Or maybe he could keep him asleep till they reach the next settlement.
That was an option as well.
Hope scanned the area of the roof and noticed a tall crane built in the far-right corner. He walked towards it and started to climb up its skeletal structure, feeling the damp cold metal under his palms.
The fog may not have completely disappeared, but it was high enough for Hope to be able to see most of his surroundings.
As Hope paused at a certain point, he looked back and took in the view of the cityscape.
There were many small concrete buildings in Sector One's territory, probably because it was the outermost part of the city.
But further in the distance down South, there was a gradual height in the buildings as they stretched further deeper into the city. Lesser was the buildings made of concrete but, instead, shelled glass panels which gave off a silvery light from the washed rising sun. Some collapsed onto or through each other and acted like forced bridges. Metal splintered out of their torn side, and their shattered walls numbered like empty eye-like windows.
But scattered around the wreckage—like found polished bullets amongst dirty ones—were high-rise glistening buildings that contradicted the natural laws of man.
The main reason for this place's given name: Mirror City.
'How the hell did they pull that off...'
Hope tightened his grip as a cold wind started to blow past him.
Before him passed down the cluttered streets of car, broken concrete and cracked asphalt, and over the short huddled roofs and chipped ledges, a mold of twisting glass towers stood in sheer contrast against all the other inflexible glass structures.
Their bodies seemed as if an outer being with a molten hand had grabbed their peaks and pulled them towards the sky.
Others were folded into a glass dome or had tighter twisting torsos that one could see its webbed infrastructure.
Smooth surfaces decorated some, or a net type-like glass layer wrapped others.
But one of the most improbable appearances was the city's center tower itself.
Far in the distance, was a behemoth structure in which a quarter of itself disappeared into the high fog. Hope wasn't sure how to describe it, but he had heard others compare it to its appearance like three tight crystals grown out of the earth.
Of course, who knew what the hell crystals were. But Hope supposed he could take their word for it.
But its great size reflected all the greenery, ruins, thin vapors on its surface. The biggest mirror in the city.
And of course, there was the vehement nature growth that blossomed at the heart of it all.
It made the outskirts of the city appear as a mockery of its true power.
Buildings and greenery intertwined with trees and plants growing through, over and around structures. Plants that Hope knew no name of feathered and busheled out the cracks and windows.
But putting aside all of that scenery, Hope caught sight of the closest glass dome building:
At first it looked like a shell with curved flicked edges, almost like a hat from where it sat upon. The building beneath was of stone with small four columns flanking presumably the entrance. Its bottom half though couldn't be seen, but no doubt that was the location the man named 'Marcus' had mentioned.
"Uhhhh...."
Hope turned his head, looking down at the roof's entrance, and noticed the small movement of the boy's head bobbing.
Ah. Was he waking up?
Hope climbed down the crane, but as his foot touched the floor, he noticed the boy crawling out the door with a dazed look.
The boy scrambled to his feet, tripping back against the wall. His eyes lost as he took in the whole different setting he was in.
After a few seconds of absorbing the area, his eyes finally fell on Hope.
Gasp!
The boy collapsed back against the wall, dropping onto the floor. He reached behind him for his pocketknife, but of course Hope had already looted that.
Hope remained still as the look of surprise and horror bloomed on the boy's face.
Maybe Hope should wait till the shock passes.
So he did.
"..."
"..."
Hope sighed and turned to walk away.
Where? He did not know.
But...
"W-wait!"
Hope paused in his tracks and looked over his shoulder.
The boy rubbed his eyes as he climbed back onto his feet.
"U-umm..."
Hope tilted his head as he waited for the boy to articulate himself.
He knew that he had changed out of his blood-stained clothes and rid most of the rotten smell, but his body underneath all that remained invisibly filthy with blotches of brown and black across his skin. The purple bruises were faded, although he couldn't imagine how it was a few days prior.
But despite the hidden mess and the new change of clothes, his face and hair expressed enough of his uncleanness.
"Name, kid."
It seemed the boy needed some direction.
The boy perked up.
"A-Adam."
"Do you remember what happened last night, Adam?"
"Err..."
The boy, Adam, looked down and his eyes trembled as he tried to recall the memories of that dark cold night.
But it seemed he failed to do so. Because for each passing second, his face was becoming more distraught and confused as if he were looking through a haze film.
Perhaps Hope should spark something.
"Your father. Do you know what happened to him?"
"...!"
Adam's eyes snapped back to his.
"M-my dad..." His face started to crumple. "Ah...My dad...he...d-d.."
"Died? Yes."
Hope turned to completely face the boy with his hands in his pockets to show no harm.
Denial expressed in Adam's eyes as Hope confirmed the truth.
Probably didn't have a mother as well.
Many kids lost their parents throughout the years. Parents had lost their children as well.
Whether it was from the Spell, from survival, or the dwindled number of supplies, or the fierce competitive nature for superiority, the result was all the same. The curse of death never left anyone's door no matter what walls they trapped themselves in or what promises were made to ease their nightmares.
"..."
Which seemed to be the norm now so nothing out of the ordinary.
Hope shrugged. "I found you. You got knocked out after being chased by some men I think from your settlement."
"Ah!" His mouth gaped open. "Y-yes that happened..."
Hope sighed and walked towards the boy. The poor boy tensed up, but to his surprise Hope passed him.
"Look, kid. I'm heading to Sector Two. So, if things are bad just as you remembered they are in Sector One, you can stick by me."
Hope bent down and slung the backpack over his shoulder along with his new rifle. It was good to have a weapon again. Although, maybe having a firearm would draw too much attention.
At that moment, both Hope and Adam's heads perked up at the sound of popping gunfire in the distance.
Hope narrowed his eyes as he stared off into the distance.
It was hard to pinpoint exactly where the noise came from, but he knew at least it didn't occur around this territory.
But how much area did the monsters cover in this whole city?
Hope looked back at the boy who was fidgeting with his fingers.
"I..." he mumbled. "I guess...I can come..."
Hope blinked.
'Huh. Its like that saying: finding a lost puppy.'
Of course, he'd never exactly seen one. But big sad eyes, young face, tousled brown hair would have to fit that description.
"Alright. But I got-" Hope paused. "...one request from you...Ok, kid?"
The boy straightened himself up a bit more.
Hope pointed at him. "You. Stay close." He then pointed at himself. "And don't take your focus completely off me."
Hope didn't know what would happen if this boy, or Adam he called himself, looked away for too long. Or if he got too distracted. This boy seemed to struggle enough with holding eye contact for too long.
Did Hope have to engage in conversation to keep the memory of himself alive?
When did his Flaw take into effect? Was it gradual? Was it instant?
Hope could assume how it would definitively work, but he had to assume his own limits as well.
If this boy stuck to him like glue, then maybe entering through the next settlement wouldn't be too much of a problem. Having a pitiful target by his side was easier to welcome with open arms rather than a random teenaged boy from the street with a gun and a face that looked like it went through a bloody battle.
"You got it?"
The boy nodded.
Hope paused as he looked up and down at the boy. He reached up into his chest rig and took out a pocketknife.
"Catch."
The boy's small thin arms braced themselves up and clumsily caught the metal object between his hands.
He looked down at it, recognizing its frame, unfolded the knife and traced along the blade. The knife that he apparently had stolen from one of the men.
A capable thief then.
"You need at least something to protect yourself." Hope paused. "You dropped it that night too."
When the boy looked up, he saw Hope walking away down the steps.
Seconds later, Hope could hear his steps shuffling after him.
After they walked down several stories, Hope slung the rifle off his shoulder and carefully peered out the door's exit. His eyes scanned the ruins and the rustic cars for any movement. Then he counted the seconds.
But silence followed.
Well, minus the whispering voices.
"Uh...sir...?"
Hope frowned as he led them both out onto the street.
"Yeah?"
"You didn't tell me...uh..who you are?"
Hope thought for a moment how he should answer.
"Just a simple soldier."
"A soldier...?"
Hope heard the boy's step shift awkwardly behind him.
"You scared of them or something?"
"Ah...well." There was a pause. "They're not exactly friendly around here you know."
No. Hope didn't know.
But not that Hope was going to defend himself and say he was any different either.
He probably wasn't.
Hope then led them left down another street.
"My dad..." The boy began to speak in a weak manner. "We planned actually to head to the next settlement..."
"Ah."
'How convenient.'
"Of course, we didn't get that far but...I-I mean it's quite a distance away and...not easily accessible..."
Hope continued looking straight ahead.
He wondered what that guy 'Greg' was up to now. How was his reaction about the carnage when he woke up? That would have been quite a sight.
Hope would have wanted to see it, but of course he had other priorities.
"Let me guess. After the gate opened all hell broke loose?"
"Yeah something like that..."
"Monsters common in this area?"
"Ummm....sometimes. Usually Sector Two stops them since they go through that way."
"Seems like Sector Two carries big responsibilities."
"I guess? My dad told me it's a haven." The boy's voice seemed to now carry a tune. "He said that they hang lights all over their ceiling. That they have gardens on their walls and plenty of water."
"A made-up story is what it sounds like. How does he know?"
"Unlucky people got separated after that day. No where else to turn to but our settlement."
Hope climbed over the hood of a car and stretched his hand back. He felt the small hand of a child grabbing hold as he pulled and assisted the boy up.
Small.
Thin.
Starved.
He was sure he was around twelve or thirteen years old, and yet his stature seemed shriveled.
Hope paused as he reached from behind and rummaged for something in the backpack.
"Here."
He then tossed what presumably looked like days old cooked meat at the boy. At least it tasted like it.
Hope had already taken a few bites himself from the other rations he found inside during the night.
The boy caught it, taking in the sight of the meal in his hands, and then bit hungrily into it. It started with small bites, but that process was happening all too fast as he gobbled one piece and instantly gobbled for another. And another. And another.
Soon, his teeth moved faster than his throat could.
"Tsk."
Hope clicked his tongue as he lightly knocked on Adam's head.
"Slow down, kid. Don't want to get indigestion."
Adam paused, then forced self-restraint as he chewed slower to better swallow and savor his meal.
Cooked meat was better than raw meat after all.
Adam looked up at him then quickly looked away. Huh. Hope wondered why. It didn't seem like a simple avoidance.
Not his problem though, right?
As long as he kept engaged with the boy then that was enough before his Flaw could really be taken into effect.
At least he hoped. It would be an inconvenience if the boy randomly forgot about him one instance and started to bolt away because the sight of a stranger.
He was still a stranger in a way.
Hope walked off the car, turned around to help the boy as well after he consumed his meal, then lead them back down the street again.
The streets were filled with a cold silence that felt abnormally uncomfortable. No signs of moving shadows, or the scratching of a fiendish monster below, or the hissing of any passing creature. In an area where there were so many spots to hide in, Hope had the gun readied in his hands as he scanned the shattered windows and dark narrow alleys.
Threads of fog drooped down from above and trailed down like ghostly whispers. Hope wasn't sure if nature naturally did that sort of development, but it didn't evoke a threatening presence.
But it gave Hope the thought if there were any flying Nightmare Creatures hidden in the sky.
He had never encountered them before, nor did he recall anything of similar talk in his memories. But the idea of fighting monsters from above...
Hope glared up at the sky. 'You better not be planning something you annoying fu-'
"Uh...soldier? Sir?"
"Yeah?"
"What's your name?"
'Ah...'
Hope let the silence prolong for a bit. "It's Hope." He answered.
"..."
"..."
"Hope...?"
"Yeah, kid. I know."
"N-no! I mean- It's a little-"
"Ridiculous."
"That's not...it's a lovely name."
'Hope...what a lovely name...'
Hope flinched as his mother's voice abruptly echoed after the boy's comment.
A once distant voice, a memory that was shoved in the deepest part of his mind prior to his Nightmare, spoke like a clear chime. Thanks to the damn curse, it didn't have that much restraint to express itself in his ear.
With that fact, Hope could confirm the exact tune his mother carried. From when he was born, to the lullabies of late summer nights, to the last goodbyes before bedtime, her voice spoke clearly to him without the effect of questionable recollection.
A strange feeling tugged on Hope's chest. A sensation like a dying cold flame—small and bright—kindled inside as his mother's whispers started to cluster.
Hope tried to ignore it.
Distraction. He needed a distraction.
"I suppose it is..." Hope finally said through gritted teeth.
An awkward silence followed.
The boy cleared his throat. "My dad says mum named me after Adam in the Bible."
"Adam?"
Hope could hear the boy kicking stones.
"Yeah. First man to be created."
"Named you that because you're firstborn?"
"Uhh....Maybe?"
Hope turned his head to say something else to the boy, but then paused in his tracks when he saw the boy's flushed face and tear-stained cheeks.
"..."
Hope turned away.
'Mm...'
What was the average time for someone to finish grieving?
Out on the field, one didn't have that luxury. But for this boy, it wasn't something that a kid his age could adjust to easily. Hope could see that a part of the boy knew that he should, but his heart, the ruler of emotions, had won over that decision.
"Hey."
The boy, Adam, rubbed his eyes with his sleeve as he continued avoiding Hope's gaze.
"You want to live, don't you?"
"Huh? Ah yes...?"
Hope watched as Adam fidgeted with his fingers as if clinging or caressing onto an invisible hem.
Was that some sort of soothing practice?
No. Besides that, how does one exactly comfort another in grief?
Hope inverted the grip on his rifle and rested it on top of his shoulder.
"Sigh...It's an ugly world, kid. An ugly constant battle we all have to face. Especially beyond the walls. Or maybe even further in, who knows. Maybe that haven isn't all it's made out to be either."
Hope lightly knocked on Adam's head again. In which caused him to finally look up and bravely meet his gaze.
"You up for it?"
"I..." Adam licked his lips. "Do I have a choice?"
'He's aware.'
"I suppose not. But you can choose who to do it with. So. Until then-"
Hope gestured to Adam's bulging pocket where he kept the small spear point knife.
"-you're a soldier. Soldiers fight for the world and against the world. Your dad told you stories, right? Doesn't seem bad to live out one yourself and tell the tale."
Some emotion that seemed to be a reading of understanding passed Adam's face.
Not that Hope exactly believed the last of his words himself.
He already knew that many failed to live out their lives like those fabled Awakened—especially that Immortal Flame guy—but at the cost of their strength, sanity, and life. Those soldiers he would overhear exchanging stories whom all read from overseas or in cities were disillusioned with the possibility of their character evolving into some extraordinary hero.
But reality—cold and cruel as it was—did not provide those milestones to everyone.
Or maybe it did, and everyone was just a failure.
But those lucky few, Awakened mostly, and the untold stories lost throughout the Quadrants, did live out their heroic tales.
Hope supposed that some of them truly didn't plan for that type of fame.
Maybe the boy was the same.
It was a reach. A big 'if' even.
But such lies if told enough become truths.
As Adam stood dumbfounded, Hope positioned the rifle in his hands again before turning to walk away.
After seven paces, he heard the boy trailing after.