#writingforever

Now, lying awake on a bed that was nothing more than a stack of paper-thin blankets on the floor with another blanket on top, she could finally take in her surroundings. The room was dim, dark and certainly lacking in what one would call basic hospitality, with only a set of torches on the walls providing any light, and the overall grim atmosphere of being locked inside a tiny, underground room would have done little to help a patient emotionally or mentally. The room stank of antiseptic, rotting flesh, and just a hint of vomit. Not that Alesha would have complained; this was the best that 'commoners' like themselves could ever hope to afford. It was certainly better than her old house, which didn't even have a front door. Out of the corner of her eye, through her limp and dangling hair, she could make out several figures hidden in shadows; other patients in worse conditions than her own, but they had been silent so far, not even a cough. Alesha wondered if they were dead.

Lastly, there was Galfe himself, who was awaiting an answer from Alesha with more patience than the Holy Goddess herself.

"Well? Do you? I should let you know that I've never slept with your mother or anything, so I was not around for long while visiting either."

Alesha didn't believe him.

"You keep bringing her up, though, as if she meant something important. " she pointed out.

"I'm terribly sorry that she's no longer with us," Galfe hung his head, so that Alesha could not see the expression he might have been wearing, and his words did not seem to carry any genuine sadness. In fact, the entire time he spoke, except for a handful of times, this man named Galfe seemed very difficult to pinpoint what his exact feelings were. Yet somehow, he gave the impression of being ultimately trustworthy all the same. "...How did she die?"

"She was murdered by one of her customers."

"Do you know who it was? His name?"

"D...Donovan, I think...He wanted more, but didn't have the cash..." Alesha did not like to have to think about it. She had only managed to witness the incident near its end, but out of fear for her own life, she did not pursue the criminal, and the Twitchers did not seem interested in her plight, only with hindering her. Galfe raised his head again.

"I'll look into it. As I've said before, I was close with your mother, and I've met you before, but back then you were either just a pudgy little baby or a shy toddler. Still, I was able to recognize you when I saw you earlier today, running through the city streets and those Twitchers hovering over your back. Speaking of that..."

It was Alesha's turn to hang her head in an act of shame.

"It was my fault, because I hadn't been careful enough."

"Doing what?"

Alesha felt the words form like a lump in her throat, before she finally spilled it out, "For trying to climb over the wall."

Galfe's eyebrows raised only a modicum higher than they already were, like they had been perpetually hovering.

"So you thought you could make it over to the other side with your wits and your gut?"

"It was worth a try, wasn't it? What hope did I have staying here?"

"The wall is over 50 feet high, and even if you could get yourself a strong grip on the stones, you would not be able to simply drop from the other side. You'd be spotted before you could finish climbing down into Utopion. You could easily bruise yourself or fall off and land on your break, risking the chance of breaking your spine, which the good doctor would not be able to repair as easily as your cut feet."

"It was...it was..." Alesha held onto her tongue, trembling a little as she began to realize how foolish her entire plan of escape had been from the very start. She had dug her fingers deep into the cracks of ancient brick-work, the same with her bare feet, moving herself slowly one at a time toward the top of the wall, which was akin to climbing the stairway to heaven itself. She'd never even considered the Twitchers that wandered on patrol in her part of town and they spotted her, long before she could ever brag she'd gotten 'far enough'. The Twitchers followed her, and she started to run, and she saw Galfe out of the corner of her eye, shouting for her to run.

Galfe nodded. "Yes, I remember seeing you there on the wall. I just wanted to hear you say for yourself what you were doing there. What you did was reckless."

"I'm sorry." Alesha didn't know what drove her to apologize to a man she hardly knew.

"However, I can help you. Get to the other side, I mean."

"What?" Alesha stared, her mouth slightly ajar, unable to believe what she'd heard, half-assuming it was some sort of sick joke made at her expense.

"Think of it as a way for me to repay your mother for all of her help over the years. She always told me that she had wanted a better life for you, Alesha."

No commoner, unless they had special permission from a higher authority, was allowed to pass through the steel gates at the center of the wall. It had been years since anyone had seen them open before. One had a better chance climbing over on their own, as Alesha had attempted, even though the chance of success was undeniably slim. Galfe was a charming fellow of a level unseen for the impressionable young teen, but how could he possibly follow through with such an outrageous promise? It would be easier offering an arm and a leg instead of freedom with odds like theirs.

"Alesha, I'll tell you more about all of this very soon, but it's best," Galfe glanced around, his eyes casting themselves over the other bed-ridden patients, "To wait right now."

"What?"

"Get some rest, and when your feet have healed, I'll take you back to the Glen to meet the others."

Alesha started to raise her voice. "Hold it!"

"What is it?"

"You...you..." Alesha stammered out just that one word over again, her mind racing to be faster than her mouth could be. She gripped the edges of her blanket tight enough to tear holes into it.

"What?"

"What proof do you have that I could get out of this hellhole? Why would you help me so much? I don't even know you...!"

"But you want to know who I am, don't you? Because I saved you, because I knew your mother, because I said I can get you to the other side of the wall."

Alesha stared, but said nothing, looking like she'd just been struck across the face.

"You'd already agreed to helping me, if you remember, and you know you have a debt to pay for me helping you as I've done at the cost of my own safety. I won't attempt to harm you if you resist, but it would be for your best interests if you followed me. I promise, I have no ill intentions; I will get you into Utopion, don't you dare question that. I have made that promise to everyone who has joined me in our cause and I do not intend to let anyone of them down. Do you understand, Alesha?"

Alesha could have snapped back, she could have asked him who he thought he was, in a world as cruel and unjust as theirs, that he believed he could change the caste system that had been in place far longer than Alesha herself had been alive. Her gratitude could not have been properly expressed in mere words, but letting herself get indebted to others would only lead to more hardships, she'd learned that in a lawless place like this. Her mother had been killed because she attempted to make a living off of others and she was only one woman against an entire society. Alesha could have said all of these things, but instead, she forced it all down into her core, and she simply nodded back. She was caught between her own feelings, not entirely sure if she was going to trust this man or not. Unfortunately, at the same time, Galfe had already trapped her. There was no real choice to make here, only acceptance.

"Okay."

"Okay, for true, this time?"

Bobbing her head dumbly, Alesha found herself mesmerized by the older man's eyes again; it was like staring into some sort of blood-red abyss...and then they became blue again, just like that.

"Good. I'm glad. I apologize for all of this, but your mother would have been happy that you made this decision." Galfe rose to his feet.

"Where are you going to go?"

"Home. You must stay and rest. I am going to send someone to pick you up, once the good doctor deems you healthy enough to leave. You'll be just fine here, Alesha."

"Why did you save me at all?" Alesha had to ask the final question that had been lingering on her mind, because if she had no say in whether she would participate in this man's plans or not, she wished to know what would have made her so important. Surely the relation with her mother was not the only thing that would have spurred Galfe into action. Galfe's eyes lingered on her for a few seconds.

"Why did I save you?"

"Yes!"

"Because there was no reason to just let you die for nothing. This place, it's cruel and unloving, a living hell we've been condemned to live in simply because we were born here and nothing else...but it doesn't HAVE to be that way." Galfe whispered.

Alesha suddenly felt the urge to touch him, to check that he was not some sort of figment from her dreams.

"I'll be going now."

Galfe disappeared soon after that, and Alesha was left alone in the dimly lit room with her own thoughts and fears. She curled up underneath the wafer-thin cover, trembling to herself under the fear of imagination, of what plans that Galfe could have for her. She believed, or she just desperately wanted to believe, that he was honest to his last word, and that he would get her to the other side of the wall. She had nothing else left for her outside of this make-shift infirmary, after all.

She heard a weak cough from across the room. It was a small relief that the other bodies keeping her company weren't all left postmortem.

Suddenly, it hit her just how tired she had been all this time, and her eyelids steadily began to grow heavier.

Alesha had been born under a tin-sheet roof and an unknown star. Her mother had raised her by herself, and she never spoke of her father, not that Alesha had ever desired to ask. She knew it must have seemed strange, but she had never deemed it necessary information. She was able to be born without a father, grow without a father, live without a father, and considering her mother's work practices, finding her father would have been far more trouble than it was worth. It was surprising enough to her that she didn't have a few dozen older siblings running around either.

Alesha was raised in a small hut, barely able to be considered a shack, but it was the best they could manage, and for a time, when she saw how many others were left homeless on the streets, she had been grateful to have a place to call her own. The commoners' section of the capital city was a literal labyrinth of densely packed brick buildings and long, tight alleyways that seemed more like lengthy trials of endurance than corridors to get from place to place. In conjunction with the geography, these alleys would raise like hills or become steep like pitfalls, and they wound and wrapped and twisted around so many buildings, time itself could have been standing still and you would never have known the difference. It could take hours of walking to reach the market-place, but it was worth it for many, as it was not only where the majority of business in the city took place but it was also freedom from the constant claustrophobic environment that usually surrounded them. The town center was a wide, open spot, and every day it was packed with crowds of people gathered around tiny stalls looking to purchase goods. It was said that many of the merchants came into the city from more rural parts of the country, but no one knew for sure aside from the vendors themselves. They hired townsfolk and offered them small sacks of gold in turn for their aid running the stalls. Jobs such as this helped spread the minimal wealth around just enough so that more and more people could buy the cheap commodities.

Commoners were not allowed to leave the city, yet these market men were given permission to enter every day. No one complained or questioned, they were just happy they could obtain food, clothing and other necessities for themselves whenever those items were scarce. There was a stream to provide water on the edge of the southern wall, but considering it passed through into Utopion, whether or not it was actually safe to drink was dubious. Pigs and chickens were provided by the grand city, a heavy-handed contribution to the society they'd otherwise forgotten, but only once a week, forcing the entire population to preserve as much as possible.

It was in the market square where something long absent in the peoples' lives could be dredged up from all of the mud and muck, something that could have been called 'happiness', 'excitement', 'intrigue', something to help stimulate their minds and expand their experiences. It was here at the market square that Alesha attended her equivalent of schooling as a young girl, where she first began to learn of the world. She learned about the world that sat just beyond a wall, but even now, it may as well have been sitting across the other end of a solar system.

Her tutor was a man named Sullivan. He was fairly young for his position, being only 26 when Alesha first met him as a child, but his knowledge was considered impressive enough for him to be able to uphold his title respectably, but also because no one else wanted to take on the job in the first place. He was not the first, nor was he the last, but to Alesha, he had been the only teacher she'd ever needed. He held his 'classes' in his one-room home on the second floor of a small building, inhabited by several single residents and families, that overlooked the market square. The good teacher was watched, like a prisoner surrounded with guards, by several over-protective parents throughout the lessons. However, their distrust was unfounded, as Sullivan never displayed or insinuated any unhealthy interest toward the children, his only desire to help them learn to be proper adults in an improper country.

Alesha heeded Sullivan's every word, soaking it in like a sponge as she sunk deeper and deeper into the ocean of knowledge, but it may have been because he was her first crush. Under his tutelage, she eventually came to understand that, in conclusion, she had been dealt an unfair hand in life. On the other side of the wall, inside skyscrapers constructed with beautiful white steel, there lived people who could eat the finest food and drink every day. There lived people who could watch the sun set and walk home that night without fear of being robbed or murdered for their shoes. There lived people who had real houses, real families, and mothers who did not have to whore themselves out every night.

She didn't want to have to live as a commoner or a low-life anymore after that, she wouldn't have been able to bear it when knowing what extraordinary treatment other people received. Years passed. Her mother was suddenly murdered by a drunk without enough gold to pay, her attempt to climb the wall for freedom was foiled by a band of malicious hunks of walking hunk, and now she was wrapped up in the schemes of a mysterious man who claimed to have been friends with her dearly departed parent, but Alesha herself hardly knew a thing about it. Her life was not exactly rolling in the direction she had hoped it would, and there was a good chance it could even be ended prematurely if she didn't take every step with the utmost caution. Alesha didn't know what to do anymore. Although she'd long since graduated from his classroom, her mind still drifted back to those days, because it was then where she had been her most innocent, with her mother alive and her meaningless crush, and she did not yet understand how cruel real life was.

Alesha opened her eyes, more than a little frustrated with herself to see the gray stonework of the infirmary ceiling once again. It had been several days since she had been confined to this place. The infirmary was actually a basement, and without any indications of day or night or even windows it felt like she had been lying in a void completely separate from time. Seconds, minutes, hours blended together, and it was beginning to drain her mentally. Her foot didn't throb anymore, although she had not tried walking on it yet, as the doctor seemed intent to keep her confined to bed as long as possible. Not even the other patients have shown any indication they were beyond some sort of perpetual vegetative state. One or two of them might have already been dead, judging by the smell. It was maddening and Alesha could not take much more of it. She contemplated breaking out on her own, when suddenly-

"Alesha,"

She immediately sprang up into a seated position. The door had opened, revealing both Doctor Klein-Sein and another figure standing behind him. The mysterious third party's face was clouded in the shadows cast by the torchlight.

"Alesha, are you feeling any better now?" the doctor spoke sweetly like he was addressing a toddler, as if it would make up for him locking her away in this terrible little prison for several days, only visiting occasionally to bring food and water. Even then, it had not been much, and he seemed wary of her all of the time. Alesha did not hate him, but she did not like him either.

Alesha nodded her head anyway.

"That's good. I'm going to undo the wrappings on your foot and examine it myself, and we'll see if you are ready to leave. This man says he's come here to pick you up. He said he knows the man who rescued you, Galfe."

Alesha stiffened. Doctor Klein-Sein and the other man stepped further into the room, so their faces could be properly illuminated. The stranger had short, scruffy blonde hair and a pair of old glasses slapped across his eyes, tied together with a thick piece of string that wrapped around his head. He addressed Alesha with a somber smile that gave a small glimpse to the upper half of his jaw, and he hardly looked a day older than when the teenager last spoke to him several years ago. He was no stranger at all. She could hardly believe it, and when her jaw dropped, he must have seen it in the dim lighting, because he reacted to it with a wider, cheerier grin.

"I hope my father hasn't given you too much trouble, Alesha; he really does mean well!" Sullivan said.

"Your father?" Alesha coughed, her voice cutting off with a sharp inhale as if she'd rubbed her throat raw with a thick sheet of sandpaper. She was realizing how weak her treatment had left her.

"Galfe. He's only trying to look out for you, as he does for everyone!" Sullivan let out a short burst of laughter before he extended his hand, saying, "He told me that you were interested in coming home with us?" Sullivan beamed with those white teeth, so perfectly aligned that they almost seemed inhuman. Nonetheless, it seemed like nothing more than the usual Sullivan to her, and she felt that familiar rapid pounding in her chest. She wouldn't say she admired him as much as she had when she'd, say, been just a child, but the least could be said that she felt for him something not easily explained as simple 'respect' either.

That, and Alesha could not have picked a better candidate for her 'adoption'. She may not have been able to put her full trust in the enigmatic Galfe just yet, but if her beloved teacher was his son, then maybe there was some truth to be found in his words after all. She took his hand and shook on it.

Before she was quickly whisked away to the Glen by Sullivan's lead, the doctor had granted Alesha the go-ahead, deeming her feet having healed to acceptable condition. However, as he watched her go, Doctor Klein-Sein made note that her wounds should not have healed as quickly as they did. In fact, while he had taken Galfe's and Sullivan's word alike that Alesha would be well enough to leave by now, he didn't actually believe it would have been true. He briefly wondered what the possible ramifications of this discovery could be, but then he dismissed it, deciding it was simply another trick on his aging mind, and that he could finally relax again with the girl gone, as he no longer needed to fear about Twitchers showing up at her doorstep every morning.

She swallowed a pitiful scream as she hit the ground. She felt the gash in her foot tear itself wider still. She tried to force it down again, the bubbling stream of pain that was crawling up the nerves of her leg and flowing into her brain. She climbed back onto her feet, and continued to move, but even an elderly man with a cane could have outran her; she was literally dragging herself along, holding onto the alleyway walls for support. By now, she could see the streams of sunlight shining through the opening, and she could nearly feel its warmth on her copper-tanned skin, to be able to wrap herself in its embrace would have been heavenly.

Behind her the scuttling sounds grew louder, nearer than ever.

She put all she had into one final sprint and then a desperate leap toward the light. She flew, only briefly, before gravity played its cruel trick on her again. She shut her eyes, to steel herself for whatever she was about to face next. She hit the ground on her belly, arms splayed in front of her. She could not hope to run any longer.

It had been hopeless for her to even try to escape, this thought ran itself through her mind just as her consciousness sank into darkness.

"Alesha."

Her eyes fluttered open. She was instantly struck with a vicious stab of pain from below, as if a hundred needles had been jammed deep into her feet. Her eyes had been shut for so long, everything was an indescribable blur, and a light brighter than the sun was blazing in her face, causing her bewildered eyes to start watering profusely. There was no way she could hope for her eyesight to properly adjust with so many tears in the way. She tried to lift her arms, but she found them to have apparently been tied down with leather straps, judging from the feel of the texture that was rubbing her skin raw.

"Alesha. Alesha, can you hear me? You appear to be awake now."

The voice was decidedly unfamiliar. She did not know what was going on. Was this going to be how she would be killed? Was this some kind of sick show for the elite? Was she going to be experimented on, turned into a cruel and horrible amalgamation of man and machine? Who was this person calling out to her, and the name he spoke...why did he know her name?

"Alesha, my name is Doctor Klein-Sein. I am going to be treating you tonight. Please, don't struggle. I am only trying to help you."

She took in a sharp inhale of breath.

"Your feet are badly injured. I am going to need to operate on them. I am sorry, but," the 'doctor' paused, "I did not have enough sedative to make it entirely impossible for you to feel pain. So, I will try and finish this procedure as quickly as possible, as long as you stay still enough as you feasibly can."

She, of course, ignored this stranger's instructions, and attempted to lash out at him with her feet, but they too were tied up to prevent much movement than helpless struggling, like a mackerel caught inside a fisherman's net. She did not understand what this doctor spoke about, nor did she wish to understand. It had to be a trick, all of it; last she remembered, she had collapsed, her energy spent, as the Twitchers descended upon her. He was speaking sweetly to trick her, to lull her into a false sense of security, and then cruelly play with her emotions by revealing his true intentions to make her his newest cybernetic puppet. She started to pant hard, and she still could not make out her surroundings through her hot tears.

"Please, I said, calm yourself! I'm not...I..." the doctor sighed, "Please! I don't want to hurt you any more than you already are! Dammit! Galfe, I need to speak with you about this girl!"

"Doctor, what is going on in here?" another voice entered from the left several seconds later.

She released a strangled gasp; this voice, it was one that she had heard before. She could never have forgotten it. It was the voice of the man who had first warned her to run away when the Twitchers came after her. Even then, she could have sworn she'd heard this voice at times long before earlier today, but no matter how much she racked her worthless, drug-addled brain at that moment, she found no answers.

"I'm sorry, Galfe, but even though I told her who I am and what I'm trying to do for her, she's still throwing a fit! I cannot operate on her wounds if she doesn't stop!"

"You're right. I'm the one who owes you an apology more though, doctor." He spoke differently from the people who lived around these parts, and it was an obvious difference, not only from the way he was so intent on addressing people in the most polite manner possible, but because of a thick, foreign accent that preceded him whenever he spoke. No one in the town had that same accent.

"You were the one who brought her here, and you told me her name, so can't you do anything? You and her know each other, I'm assuming?"

"No, she likely does not know who I am at all."

"Hmm? Then how do you know her?"

There was a brief pause, but she could not see what either man was doing during the momentary silence. She could have sworn she heard something being spoken in a quiet hush, but her ears might have been fooling her at that moment.

The doctor continued to speak, "Well, in any case, please try to do something to stop her from fussing! I have other patients to attend to today, and I'm beginning to run a serious backlog!"

"I'm very sorry about this, Doctor Klein-Sein."

Galfe approached her, and she could hear his footsteps drawing in, but she still could not see his face. Suddenly, a shadow cast itself over her prone body as a tall and imposing tower of a man seemingly appeared out of nothing, looming high over her, consequently making her feel like she'd shrunk to the size of an ant. Through her blinding tears, she could make out the most basic features of this figure; dirt-blonde hair hanging like a clump of limp seaweed, shoulder-length, from his head, a long nose, cerulean eyes, all of it attached to skin of a lighter shade than most people she'd come across in the slums. There was both something notably familiar and uncomfortably otherworldly about this man. She did not appreciate such a feeling about him, but she could not fight back as he drew in even closer.

"Alesha,"

He gently touched her shoulder with his large hand.

"You will get better if you let the doctor operate on you. If you want to walk again, let him do his work."

She listened to his words and the way he spoke with such a lack of malice or anger, nothing but pure, unsaturated kindness, like she had just been offered a pillow to rest her head on. He stared at her, and she stared at him. A thousand words could have been exchanged and it would have meant nothing at all compared to what their eyes said to one another. In all honesty, while she did not know who this man was personally, she still felt that she could willingly put her trust in him. That was...a new experience for her. It was such wonderful, it did not even catch her notice that the man's eyes had briefly flashed from baby-blue to crimson and back.

"Are you two done?" the doctor's voice broke the spell. Galfe pulled back.

"She seems to be listening to me. Please do what you must, doctor."

Doctor Klein-Sein was inclined to question what sort of unseen method Galfe used, beside his rugged and attractive appearance, to woo compliance from the teenage girl. However, he knew that there were more important matters to deal with. "Alright, thank you. Please, try and do something to help keep her mind off of the pain."

"I'll do what I can, doctor."

"Now, I must start with cleaning all of the dirt and grime, to lower the chances of infection. I can only imagine what she was running from, this poor thing...the soles of her feet are almost completely torn off..."

"It was Twitchers. I saw them."

"Twitchers? What? You did not say anything about those things!" Doctor Klein-Sein let his voice raise slightly higher than necessary, but for good reason nonetheless. He had been keeping himself well with his little underground clinic for a long time, even though he had been helping himself to a more than a few of the nobles' tools for serious operations. He had been successful in evading the Twitchers for nearly twelve years; to have that record broken carried far serious consequences beyond just his wounded pride.

"Don't worry, they won't be following her here,"

"You can't be sure of that! You...gah, dammit, if only I'd known..." the doctor brushed his chin and tugged in aggravation at his bushy moustache.

"You mean you would have just left her outside to die? You wouldn't have accepted her as your patient, even though you swore an oath?"

The doctor stuttered, "Y-Yes, but do you think I'd be my own life at risk? If I'm gone, then there won't be a clinic for anyone at all!"

"Please, help her. The Twitchers won't appear here, I promise you."

"How can you be sure?"

Galfe shook his head. "I don't know for sure, I only saw them briefly, to tell the truth. They had only gone near the girl before they began walking in another direction."

"That doesn't make any sense!" Klein-Sein's eyes narrowed, his sweaty pores practically oozing with suspicion, "There's something you're not telling me here...you're leaving something out..."

"I'm not inclined to say any more, because that was exactly what happened. You know how those things are; there's so many bugs and glitches in their systems, they'll go and do anything they want."

The young girl knew quite well what this Galfe was speaking of. The Twitchers were very finicky; for all of the criminals and troublemakers they eliminated, there were always two or more innocents that were brutally slaughtered by the imperfect machinations, and no one could do a thing about those 'unfortunate sacrifices'. If only things had been that simple, though. She gulped.

"Please, doctor, don't fret about the Twitchers. Your work is safe in the minds and throats of all of us here, and we can never thank you enough for the risks you take to ensure we all stay healthy and well. So please, don't abandon this girl. I trust in you to do the right thing here."

Doctor Klein-Sein wasn't convinced, but he also knew that Galfe would not have budged from his stance no matter how many different, feasible arguments the doctor presented. It was like taking a swing at a brick wall, it would never crumble, no matter your strength, as long as you were held within human limits. Galfe was like that wall, and although he meant good for the community, he rarely let anyone try to argue against him. Doctor Klein-Sein had not known him for more than two years, a much shorter time than most of the people Galfe was known to keep around him, but he could already tell that the man meant nothing but good intentions.

"Doctor, please,"

"You won't leave me alone until I do what you want, will you, Galfe?"

"Doctor."

"Of course you won't. As long as you can definitely assure the Twitchers won't come after my ass, then I'll help you here."

Shaking his head and throwing caution to the four winds, the doctor approached the young woman on the operating table. He moved his hand over the tool stand, picking up tweezers, cotton balls, a cleaning cloth, and a bottle of antiseptic. He eyed the young woman's wounds; her right foot was in worse shape, torn open wide enough to reveal the raw, red muscle tissue underneath. Her left foot was cracked and bloody, but not nearly as much ripped skin.

The doctor clenched his teeth from behind thinly-drawn lips. Nearly everything he did for his patients was self-taught, because knowledge such as advanced medicinal practices were considered a taboo for a man of lowly status. He had only several dozen medical books to study from, and his mentor had long since passed to the great life beyond. He did have at a least modicum of confidence in his skills, however, and he knew that a job like this one would not be a hassle. At least he didn't have to go as far as replace the girl's feet with cybernetic ones.

"...This is going to sting a little and it will only get worse from here, my dear. Please try to bear it until I have finished."

Doctor Klein-Sein popped off the cap on the antiseptic, and poured it over the girl's feet. She screeched like a feral cat, and she vied to try and kick out at the older man again, but Galfe was holding her down. And then the doctor brought the tweezers and a scalpel to her feet. Whatever he was doing, she could not tell, but with his actions came an intense and blinding pain, enough to feel like she'd just been struck upside the head with an incredibly powerful right-hook. The pain was continuous, and it hung there inside her, all-consuming on her thoughts.

"I have to get everything out of there! If I don't clean it all perfectly, you'll get an infection, and then you wouldn't have any feet left to walk with!" the doctor shouted over at her, but it did little for her benefit at that moment.

"Your name is Alesha Vandelen, isn't it?" Galfe began to speak to her, and his words, his mentioning of her entire name, started to drag her away from the pain, gradually loosening its grip over her mind. She turned her head in his direction.

"I know you because I was friends with your mother."

She scowled a little; she had loved her mother, but her lone parent had known many men in her life, especially the ones with enough coin to pay upfront.

"I can help you, as part of what I owe to your mother. I have a place for you to stay, but you, well, you'll need to work to earn your keep. Understand? You can make the choice, I won't force you, but I can help provide you a place to stay, and much more. Safety from the Twitchers, even. You have to help me, with just one little thing. That's all."

Galfe's eyes flashed a second time, and she wondered just what sort of man was this, who would pick up a street urchin like herself off the floor and adopt it? No person would ever make such an offer without ulterior motives already in the works. No matter how beautifully his eyes shined, Galfe couldn't have convinced her otherwise.

Alesha Vandelen knew she had no other choice but to accept, however. Her life had no direction, and even though it was quite a suspicious deal, she had to take whatever could have gotten her off of the streets and away from the Twitchers.

"Okay."

The country of Saegur was one of the most technologically advanced in the entire world, but it was also known to be one of the most oppressive. The capital of the country was also the largest city on record, the aptly named 'Utopion', where the greatest achievements of mankind were displayed in excess, and there were skyscrapers of pristine white that pierced the skies, consistent medical and scientific breakthroughs around the clock, and a robotic police force running independently from humans, by thanks of an intricate A.I. program, guarded the citizens. However, at the same time, only twenty-three percent of the country's population lived inside this mortal heaven. The remaining people were considered the 'commoners', and thus, not permitted to soil the nobles' pristine, perfect world with their filthy little digits.

A massive wall split the country in half, and it was this act by Utopion's governor that had received much ire by neighboring countries and other countries from around the world. They considered it a 'violation of freedom' and something akin to the atrocious war crimes committed by former dictators. It did not help political matters that the mechanical protectors of Utopion were also used to govern and maintain 'order' among the commoners, mainly through fear tactics and violence after they had been deemed too 'unstable' to operate in Utopion's borders. What should have been a proud achievement for mankind was quickly becoming one of its greatest shames.