Chapter II:

A body slammed into him, causing him to trip. He caught himself before he dropped, out of luck. He looked up, but the crowd around him was a jumbled mess. It was impossible to find out who pushed him.

He scowled.

Summer was ending, and autumn was rolling in with cold dread. Despite the cloudless, shinning sun beating down upon the earth, winds and weather were trapped within chill. Shivering, the teen pulled his white coat around him. One of the long sleeves dropped, revealing the S on his wrist.

Eyes squinted against the sun, he growled.

Pulling the sleeve up again, he pushed through the large crowd. Shouting, murmuring, bustling voices. The sun rained heat onto his snow colored hair, yet his body was cold. The two extremes were uncomfortable within the morning light. As refuges crowded together, he grimaced. Get this over with!

He hated being with them. These people. Their kind. Yet, he had the same needs as them. Thus, he had to suffer.

“Attention!”

He looked up. Through the blinding sunlight he saw a official standing on a stage. His silhouette was black against the blinding light.

“Your rations are to be handed out as usual. Go in your line of number.”

He frowned again, Well, we’re all being treated like animals here. So…

Even then, a fight broke out. “I need this double ration! Please!”

“Sir, you know regulations.”

“I have not eaten in days! Give it to me!”

Through the forest of people, the short teen heard a fist fight broke out. He scoffed.

It doesn’t change a thing about them!

The going was slow. More fights broke out between a single mother and a man squabbling to snatch bread from her hands. Bread was all they had. His stomach growled as the smell of the bread entered his nostrils. Even when it was stale, in his state, he felt hunger burning in his stomach.

Forgotten leftovers for forgotten leftovers…

Eventually, it was his turn. The number of people has dropped, most leaving to eat elsewhere. The dirt ground was bare and stretched under the sun, finally warming the yard. After so long, he reached out with a bony yet toned arm to a single, pathetic loaf of bread.

To have to rely on them for sustenance!

Suddenly, a hand latched onto his shoulder. He gasped, he was thrown back by a middle-aged man. He growled, “Me first, synthetic!”

The S on his wrist.

He seethed with gritted teeth, “It’s my turn.”

The man rolled his eyes, “Humans first!”

That familiar rage burned within him.

He stepped forward, daring to step past the man. As he reached for him again, the synthetic swatted his hand away. He never looked at him eyeing his bread. You don’t own me!

“Hey!”

He turned around, ducking from the punch the man would be throwing. Expertly poised, the synthetic threw a hard punch at the man’s chest. He flew back, thudding against the ground. Dust and dirt floated in a cloud as he coughed. The remaining people watched as the boy’s eyes widened. His face churned from pale white to forge red.

“I am free, scum! You humans think you own us! We’re cattle for your slaughter!” He kicked the ground, sending more dirt up. Fists clenched, he raised his arm to the sky. “Well, not me! We are no longer slaves! I am Clandestine, and I will avenge your wrongs, savages!”

As the man attempted to stand up, Clandestine spit on his face, kicking him to the ground again. Then he turned, grabbed his bread from the stunned giver, and stalked towards the archway leading towards the town. On the way, he saw a woman with two loaves. He swiped one straight from her hand and bit into it as he left the area stunned.