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Chapter 1: A Breath of Dead Air

I step out of the train station, admiring the new city I had been relocated to. The air was thick with smoke and gas, the sky a dark, moody hue - a typical appearance for an industrial city. 'Industrial City 17' read the sign at the station. I step out onto the faded and slick cobblestone street, continuing to eye my surroundings as I take a left and spot a checkpoint. I step through, and find myself in the city's plaza, with a tall building on each side of the street, one reading "Terminal" while the other read "Civil Workers' Administration". Down the street, I spot a small, conjoined building with two signs on them: "FOTO" and "CHANGE". I think back to when I was brought into the residential district of City seventeen, the air wasn't so clouded by smoke, and you could see the sun shine onto the pavement of its plaza. "Hmm....Seems the only thing that's changed is the layout..." I mutter to myself as I continue to wander, "and the sky is darker...." Another citizen would look on, puzzled at my visage, but decided against a confrontation, continuing on his way.

I step through the checkpoint on the right of the Nexus, continuing left. Upon walking through the somewhat short tunnel, I see a white container that had filled with rainwater, and stare into the surprisingly clean water, looking at my appearance.The year was long before I was relocated, and this showed in my reflection. By now I had lost any pink in my hair, replaced with a coal-black color. My deathly pale skin tone had slowly grown lighter in color and my lightning-shaped scar had started to protrude more visibly. My eyes appeared bloodshot, with the crimson irises blending into the veins. My garb was stained with blood and bits of Combine supplement goop spotted my chest. The same stained trail covered my front, though now it was a dark brownish color. I think back to the words I heard when I first awoke in that train station.

"This is what they call a gift nowadays..." I utter softly to myself; the irony hitting me like a truck. Zombification a gift, ridiculous. I then turn on my heel, spinning swiftly and stepping away from the container. A patrol was coming down the street, so I did my best to hide my disfigured visage. It seemed to have worked, either that or they didn't care, as they walk down the street having idle conversation with one another. "<:: Did you hear about the kid roaming the sewers? ::>" One asked the other. "<:: No," replies the other, "I thought all the children were amputated after the war. ::>" "<:: Evidently not, cuz' a little kid was just skipping around the sewers, little smile on her face, at least till' she saw one of us. ::>" "<:: Damn. I feel bad for whoever had to put em' down. ::>" "<:: Yeah. Her red gown got a darker shade that night. ::>" The unit sighs as he then says "<:: My feet are killing me. ::>"

The other unit shrugs as they continue moving, laughing softly under their voice coders. Poor kid, I'd thought. It's a shame what happened to the world for children to be gunned down on sight. Damn the Combine. I start down the street, wiping my face briefly. After a while, I make my way back into the plaza. New clothes are in order, I say to myself as I step towards the adjacent shops. One of them had a clerk handing a bright blue jumpsuit top to one of the citizens, and I smile briefly at the sight before stepping in myself. If I could blush, surely I would be as the eyes around the room darted toward me, like lasers at the back of my head, I could feel their gaze. I take a deep, albeit essentially pointless breath, and step to the line which had been formed at the counter.

"Next!" Calls the clerk in a bright tone. I finally step to the counter, smiling softly at the man behind the counter. "Wow you look like shit, what happened to you?" He asks. Kind of rude, but he may not have meant it. "Oh, just life not exactly going my way," I reply, more of a literal sentence than metaphorical, given my state of physical health being nil. "I see that. So what can I get ya?" The clerk asks, leaning onto the counter. "Oh, uh, how much would a new jumpsuit altogether cost?" "Around 110 tokens, depending on what ya want." "Could I get a short sleeve and jeans then?" "Yeah sure, let me check if we got those." He pushes away from the counter, moving into the back of the shop most likely to check the stock. He returns with a bright new short sleeve jumpsuit shirt and a pair of jeans, setting them neatly onto the counter. "That'll be a hundred, ma'am." I smile briefly and reach into my pocket, mentally counting the tokens and bills in my pocket, before pulling it out, checking the amount. "Perfect," I blurt with a chuckle before setting it down on the counter. "Thank you very much, mister," I say before taking up the clothing, walking out soon after.

I make a dash to the apartments. I knew there was a laundry room at the lobby floor, and hoped I'd be able to switch out into my new clothes. "<:: Hey! No running! ::>" shouts a unit from behind me, and I skid to a halt at the shout. "Sorry!" I call back before starting to walk again. I could use an apartment to be honest, I thought quietly to myself, don't they assign apartments to everyone? Curiously enough, a unit was just stepping out of the apartments, their stun baton in hand as they looked about. I couldn't tell if they were male or female, they had a slim build but were standing perfectly straight, contrary to the previous units I saw, which had a thicker build. They all sounded the same regardless, their vocoders masking their identities.

"Excuse me," I call as I step to the unit. They turned their head to me with a blank gaze - I guess the face plate doesn't move, huh? "<:: what is it? ::>"

"Uh, I was wondering if I could be assigned an apartment?" "<:: Name and number. ::>" "My name is Katherine Jefferson, and my number is-" "<:: I know you, back from City 45 huh? ::>" "Y-yeah, how did-" "<:: You were just one of the few I remember, something about some false accusation with no evidence. Here, follow me. ::>"

I nod briefly as the unit steps in, holstering their stun baton and pulling out what seemed to be a PDA of sorts - a data pad. They tapped the screen a few times and nodded before slipping it back onto their belt, a hook keeping it from sliding any farther down. I didn't think I would have someone from the MpF recognise me, to be honest. It was sort of nice. I barely remember my CID either way, so it saved me time. The unit guides me up a couple floors, stopping at a doorway, with its door flung open. "<:: This one looks empty," the unit says as he reaches into a pocket on his vest, "I'll assign you this one. ::>" I nod briefly, glad to have gotten a room quickly enough. He pulls out what seems to be an uncut key, closing the door and slowly pressing the key into the lock. It melded itself into the shape of the lock before my eyes, though I didn't feel the need to sigh in wonder as he pulled the key out, handing it to me. I just wanted a place to rest, even if I couldn't quite feel fatigue. The unit opens the door once more, allowing me entry. "<:: Best of luck to you in Industrial City 17, Miss Jefferson. ::>" And with that, the unit closed the door.