“Stop right there!”
The towering trees of the forest blocked the bright rays of the sun.
“Call for reinforcements!”
A child ran with all their might. Despite their heaving breaths and aching body, they refused to stop.
Thump.
“Chase after it!”
They quickly climbed the imposing wall at the borders of the woodland.
Thud.
“Number 1267, get back here!”
They saw a single figure walking idly by the barren alleyway they ended up in.
SWISH.
A bony hand grabbed the passerby. It belonged to a child no younger than the age of 10. The shaking limb tightly grasped at the arm in its grip.
“Peas hep m.” Broken English was heard.
The woman looked at the trembling small kid, an image of the past somewhat overlapping with it.

“No, no take!” The child struggled against the hold the soldiers had on their arms.
“They’re the authorities, sweetie. You don’t have to worry.”

In just a blink of an eye, Vesta had already carried the younger one and covered them with her coat. “You don’t have to worry. I’ll keep you safe.”
“This time for sure.”
The moon was the only witness to the two bodies running into the night.

It was always peaceful in the Chrea City, that’s what Vesta had known, what she’d been taught all her life. It was always that way. There were few disputes and conflicts. It was always thriving and bustling and harmonious.
The alleyway was oftentimes included in Vesta’s daily route. It was a place where she could get away from the stifling pressure of interacting with other people. One day, she chanced upon a young girl. A young, sickly, little girl, huddled against the wall that separates the city from the outside world. When Vesta was a kid, she frequently dreamed of the vast area beyond this barricade that confined them in this small little region. However, memories of numerous warnings from the government and the news of missing people terrified her into going out, her imagination only serving to be the only vision she has of the unknown.
The child is one such example. She was a contrasting and conspicuous detail of the picturesque image the whole city paints. And that child reached out to her with her grubby, bony hands, begging to be saved. Vesta comforted, promising safety and happiness, yet she ignored the signs and called. She called for someone to help. She called for the authorities. She called for anyone, anyone to take the mantle, the responsibility, away from her. She gave the reins to the suspicious soldiers that arrived. She disregarded the pleas that spilled from the child’s lips.

“They’re the authorities, sweetie. You don’t have to worry.”

Vesta Claire was a selfish coward. And as time chipped away at the glittering facade of what she had known her entire life and revealed the grotesque monstrosity hiding underneath, she vowed to never be one again.

Unknown to most, darkness prevailed in the underbelly of Chrea city. After only suspecting the authorities did Vesta find out about it. Countless covert investigations led to one singular truth: the government maintains its control over Chrea through the management of information in the media and the abduction of people from rebellious forces or ghettos for lab experiments and coercive labor.
Vesta ran through the backstreets. Even with the light weight of the child, she could feel her arms and legs aching. She decided resolutely that she can’t bring the child to her apartment. There were too many cameras and people, and both were what they were avoiding in the first place.
Veritas.
It’s risky seeking help from that organization. She’s just a new and untrustworthy member. There’s a high chance they’ll turn them away. But it’s the only choice she has. It’s the only hope they have. Making sure no one was following her, she turned around a sharp right and a brick wall greeted her.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. I’m not taking you back. I’m not giving you back. You’re going to stay here with me, and I’ll have my friends take care of us, okay?” Vesta quietly said. The child clutched her tighter and nodded against her shoulder.
She knocked three times on the wall, muttering a quick “Veritas” after. A moment passed, and then they were pulled in.

“How is he?” Vesta stood up hastily as the doctor entered the room.
“He’s malnourished and dehydrated. He has some lacerations on his back, and superficial cuts on both feet.” Dr. Threy didn’t look up from his clipboard. “Although, there’s a drug in his system. It’s likely a trace of what we’re looking for, the SDR02.”
“Where did you even find him?” Rhian spoke up from the side.
“The alley. He jumped over the wall and I was the only one there so he came to me for help.”
“Are you sure he’s even innocent? What if he’s a spy or something?” Jeric crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at the newcomer.
“He’s innocent. I’m sure of it. He has a tattoo and everything. He-” Vesta’s voice trembled. “He- I can feel it. He has a tattooed number on his nape. He has the drug as well. He’s definitely from the concentration camps outside the wall.”
“Please! Your so-called senses can’t even be trusted. Look how the previous one turned out!”
“Stop bringing that up!” Vesta yelled back, her frame shaking. “I know! I know I was pathetic! I can’t change that… I can never change that…”
Determined eyes shone brightly in the dim room.
“But I will change the system. I will break down that wall. I will save them. I will destroy this government. No matter what it takes. And all of you… And Veritas can’t stop me. Even if it costs me my life.”
And if… And when all of that was finished, Vesta Clair wondered if she could hope to be forgiven, even just a little bit, by the little girl she had forsaken.