Prototype Dorian

9.

Four days before the Selection

When I peel my eyes away from the enchanting world of colors, I am met with Morgan's deep brown eyes. Unwavering and intense, as if they are staring into my soul.

Heat crawls up my neck. I avert my head and clear my throat. "W- What?"

"I never knew someone like you would find Ground Earth to be beautiful."

"Why wouldn't I? I've never seen anything like this."

"I thought you'd prefer your safe little bubble up there." Morgan jerks their head towards the Tower.

I crane my neck to look back at it. A never-ending wall looms over me, so tall that it disappears into the clouds. I can't see what's up there, just like how I couldn't see what was down here. Everything I have spent my life pining after—the stars, the shuttles, NovaTopia—is hidden behind those wisps of vapor. Meanwhile, the world here is permanently in the Tower's shadow.

"You can't even see NovaTopia from here," I croak.

"People here would rather not see it," Morgan says.

"You two alright?" Ryan calls. While Morgan and I are talking, he has walked further in front and is now walking back to us. His concerned eyes dart between us. "You seem drained, Sánchez. You should hydrate. Oh, right, I forgot to remind you two that there aren't free drinking stations around Ground Earth. You'd have to buy drinking water. Here." He takes a card out of his wallet and hands it to Morgan. "Buy a bottle later."

"Thank you, General Lorensky."

Ryan turns to me and smirks. "And Lara, you seem more well-adjusted than I thought you would be."

"This is nice so far," I admit.

"Good. I'm glad." His smile softens. "Anyway, I'll have to leave now. It shouldn't be too hard finding a mechanic in the land of cyberlimbs, so I'll just leave that to you, Sánchez. Remember to use the device I gave you if you're in danger."

"You're leaving us already?"

"I have to, or you'll be associated with me and things will get nasty for you."

As if on cue, a random passerby yells, "Hey, NovaTopian dog! Leave us the fuck alone!" She finishes her taunt by gesturing both her middle fingers at Ryan.

"See? Exhibit A," Ryan says nonchalantly. He points at the NovaTopian logo on his uniform. "They always get mad when they see this."

The person who provoked him is still glaring daggers at Ryan even as she struts away. The hatred radiating from her punches me in my gut, and memories from yesterday—has it only been a day since the attack?—rushes into my mind.

"A lot of them won't hesitate to kill you if they find out you're from the Tower," was what Ryan said. I need to remember that.

"So anyway, I'll get going now." He combs his fingers through his curly hair. "Stay safe, you two. Take care of each other."

With that, he disappears, leaving us stranded in a crowded street amidst the jumbled buildings.

God, I hate his Gift and how it makes it so easy for him to leave.

I let out an annoyed huff of air, blowing at the strand of hair on my face. "So, uh, where should we go?"

Morgan saunters forward without answering. I follow behind them, weaving through the flood of people coming between us.

Ground Earth is a lot busier than the Tower; I've never been so close to this many people at once before. The more I look around, the more I realize that most Ground Earth dwellers have cyberlimbs and synthetic eyes. This must be what Ryan meant when he called this place 'the land of cyberlimbs'. Maybe, when Ariandelle was complaining about people on Ground Earth being 'mutants', she didn't mean mutations and third arms. Maybe she meant artificial body parts.