When I wake up, Alexandra's already waiting for me.

"Put this on," she tells me, handing me a robe. "Strip off everything, undergarments included. We have a lot to do today."

I sit up in bed, yawning. My skin is sticky with sweat. Sluggishly, I stand and begin to undress, my clothing slipping off of me like an unneeded layer of skin. Alexandra gives me a clinical glance once I'm naked and puts the robe on me and secures it around my waist. We promptly exit my room and walk down the hallway. I move slower than I normally would- whatever they gave me yesterday has zapped me of all energy. I vaguely remember passing out in the conference room, but that's the extent of my memory.

"What exactly are we doing today?" I ask. Alexandra looks back at me and counts off the things on her fingers.

"Scrubbing and lightening for your skin, a perm for your hair, manicure, pedicure, hair removal... I'm also taking you to visit the Outer Ring."

The corners of my mouth move upwards. "Really?"

"Really. Tonight you'll be meeting with Idris, by the way, so please don't act like you did yesterday."

I shake my head, trying to rid myself of the memory. "I won't, so don't worry. I'm not in an arguing mood today."

Alexandra sighs. I push myself to walk a bit faster, and put a hand on her shoulder. She stops moving.

"I'm not angry with you, Deva," she murmurs, answering the question I was about to ask. "I just... I took a lot of flak for what happened last night. I'm really tired. You'll have to excuse me."

I move away from her, withdrawing my hand, guilt weighing me down. "Sure. No problem."

We continue walking, but we're both silent now, apart from our breaths and footsteps. There's no one around. It must be early- the facility is completely quiet. I keep my eyes forward, staring down the blank white hallway. What did Idris do and say to make this bright, cheery girl so dull?

We head down the hallway until we reach the end of it. A nondescript, grey door stands in front of us, and as we near it, it opens.

The room behind the door leaves me breathless. I don't know where to look. In the middle, there's a white pedestal, just high enough to step up on. To the right, the wall is lined with shelving. There are colourful cosmetics there, as well as bottles of what appear to be hair product. A black, comfortable-looking chair sits just in front of the shelves. I look to the left- there's storage there, easily twenty white cabinets full of who knows what, and a large tub. Four people dressed in simple white clothing look up at our entrance. One of them smiles.

"Wow." My eyes flit around the room, my mouth hanging open in awe. "I mean... wow."

"I didn't know that you could be so inarticulate," Alexandra says, but her tone isn't as desolate as before. "Take off the robe and stand on the pedestal, Deva."

I'm a little wary of all of these people seeing me naked, but I do as I'm told. I leave the robe with Alexandra and step up onto the pedestal, trying to look anywhere but at the others. They crowd around the pedestal, examining me closely.

"Minimal body hair," one mutters to himself. "Yellow undertones."

"Interesting bone structure." Notes another.

A third person agrees with the second, nodding her head enthusiastically. "Quite broad shoulders for a female. She has lean muscle mass."

"Weight and height, please." Says the first man.

"Subject's weight is one-hundred and sixty pounds. Subject's height is one-hundred and eighty-three centimetres, rounded up from one-hundred and eighty-two point eighty-eight centimetres. Subject's weight corresponds to subject's height ideally."

"Miss Amador, did you play recreational sports?"

"I do," I reply, and quickly, realizing my mistake, I say, "I did."

He nods, and addressing his colleagues, he says, "If we scrub and lighten her skin, she will become evenly olive-toned." He turns to Alexandra. "Is that acceptable?"

"Yes," she responds. "Try to match her colour within a shade or two to mine."

"Stay still, Miss Amador," the woman says. "You'll be fine."

A cylinder of glass raises up around me and water sprays me from all directions, along with something vaguely chemical-smelling that runs down my skin like oil. Alexandra gives me the thumbs up through the glass. I don't have it in me to smile at her, or give her the thumbs up back, but I nod as best I can with the water spraying the back of my neck. I can already see dirt flowing down the drain, coming off my body in streams of black and grey. Small rolling brushes come out and scrub me from head to toe, scraping at my skin until I swear it's at least two or three shades lighter than it was before.

Finally it's over. The last of the water drains away and I'm dried with jets of air that get rid of residual water droplets on my skin. The cylinder moves back down into the pedestal and I step off of it. Next, they clean the dirt from underneath my finger and toe nails, cutting and filing them to uniform, squared shapes. They soak me in a sweet-smelling liquid that makes my skin tingle, and then they lead me to the chair on the right side of the room, handing me my robe. I shrug it on and sit down in the chair staying very still while they cut, style, and brush out my hair. On the floor around me is enough hair to make me believe that I'm well and truly bald, but I'm reassured by the feeling of weight on my head.

When they're done with my hair, they begin to brush color into every inch of my face, rubbing some kind of sparkling lotion into my skin that smells a lot like the candy they sell at the food stalls near my unit. I do what they tell me- tilting my head to the right, to the left, up to the light and down. They attach false eyelashes and use their brushes to apply a dark color underneath my cheeks.

After what seems like hours, they step back to admire their work. Their eyes are wide as they take in my appearance. Verdin has one pale hand pressed over her mouth, which is spread into an 'O'. I raise my own hand, putting it up next to Alexandra's. They're the same colour.

"Do I look unrecognizable yet?" I ask quietly, diffusing the silence.

"It's not that," Alexandra says. Out of the five people around me right now, she is the only one without an expression of pride. She looks puzzled more than anything. "You look like someone I saw, once, but I can't-" She stops suddenly, flinching and pressing a hand to her ear.

"Everything okay?"

She looks a bit shaken somehow, but she replies quickly. "Of course, but we need to go. Do you remember what I said about going to the Outer Ring? Anden's coming with your clothes- we're going to Ezra's."

I spring from the chair. "Let's go, then. I'm more than ready."

--

Once Anden has come with some clothes and I've dressed, I wave goodbye to the four people who worked on me and we proceed down the long, white hallway once more. This whole place is so bare that I wonder if I'll go blind once I step out into the sunlight of the Outer Ring. I can't wait to get back to the familiarity of the curving, sloping, dusty roads of the place I grew up.

We approach an elevator. The doors are already open, waiting for our arrival. Anden ushers us inside. As we enter, the doors close, and we move upwards so fast that my stomach churns. I look around, noticing the fact that there are no buttons in here. We must be underground. I'd already thought that that might be the case, of course, but this facility is huge- so huge that I'm sure I haven't even seen a quarter of it. How did Idris fund all of this, and how did he construct it without the Elites knowing about it?

The elevator comes to a halt, dings, and the doors slide open. Anden is the first to exit. I follow after him, and Alexandra is close at my heels. We're in a fairly sizeable garage. It's dimly lit, with yellow, reflective paint pointing out the direction of what I assume to be the exit. It goes up a ramp and it's all black from there. It's taking all of my energy to contain my excitement.

I look around at the cars. I've only seen a car once or twice in my life- at least in what I can remember of my life- but they're not flashy or dingy like the ones I'd seen. The cars in this garage are all a nondescript black colour, constructed with sleek and smooth lines. Anden pulls a remote out of his pocket and presses a button on it. The car nearest to us revs to life, the engine purring like a cat. He opens the doors to the backseat for me and Alexandra. I thank him and slide in first, Alexandra following shortly after.

Once we're all inside and Alexandra has buckled me up, Anden pulls out of the parking spot and drives towards the ramp. I run my fingers over the soft, faux leather of the back seat, my anticipation growing within me, my foot tapping on the floor of the car. We move up the ramp, blackness growing in front of the car, save for some light from the headlights. We stop. Anden holds up the remote from earlier, and presses another button.

For a moment, the light flooding through the windshield and windows blinds me. The car starts moving again, and I'm staring out of the window, joy pouring out of every molecule that makes up my body. I'm home.

The wall is the first thing I see. It remains unchanged; grey, daunting, foreboding, intimidating, stretching higher into the sky than anything in Adia. It's quite close to us, so that puts us in an extremely poor area. It's mostly inhabited by squatters, from what I remember.

The buildings around us are short and stocky, their paint chipping away in huge sections. Posters are plastered onto the walls of the buildings, some advertising local, cheap brothels and bars, others advertising popular food stalls. I even see what appears to be an old betting ticket for the X-Brawls. As we pass it, I can read my name on it- well, my alias. Many of these posters are new, their colours bright and fresh, but most are worn and old, the bright colours having long been washed away. This place is dirty and desiccated, and frankly I'm surprised that Idris' secret headquarters is located here. This is the first place the Elites would check if they were trying to find him.

As I think this, I look back at where we came from, and gasp in surprise. It appears to be an old warehouse, but that's not what shocks me about it. As we drive away, it sinks into the ground until all that's visible is its worn, once-blue roof. The breeze blows dirt and sand over it. If I were standing in front of it now, observing it, I wouldn't believe it if someone told me that it had once been above ground.

"Incredible," I breathe, shaking my head in part-disbelief and part-awe. "Who came up with that?"

"Idris, of course," comes Anden's reply. He says it proudly, meeting my eyes in the rear view mirror. I catch a glimpse of myself there- just my eyes and eyebrows, but it's enough to make me look away and then look back, like what I'm seeing isn't real. Those don't look like my eyes, and those are certainly not my eyebrows.

I don't dwell on it for too long, though, because the Outer Ring captures my attention fully. It's some time in the late afternoon, perhaps four or five, and the JumboTrons in the distance are displaying wanted posters- how very typical. Spotlights far away point upwards into the sky, shining concentrated beams of bright white light into the clouds, golden in colour from the coming sunset, tinged slightly pink and red at the edges.

We're driving out of the poor area and onto a main road. It has a wide berth so that the people around us can move out of the way. Food stalls line the street with residential units on either side. A child peeks out of his window to look at the car, waving his brown hand at us as we pass. A few people stop and stare very pointedly at us; most just go about their business. The people of the Outer Ring may be many things, but the majority of us are not nosy.

"Miss Amador?"

I keep staring out of the window. "Yes, Anden?"

"Do you know the Outer Ring well? I need to drop you and Alexandra off close to here, just in case."

"Yeah, we'll be good."

"Alright."

We take a sudden, sharp turn into a darkened alley, stopping just short of crashing into a wall. The seatbelt I'm wearing thankfully restrains me, but it cuts into my neck violently enough for me to grimace and press the button to release it. Alexandra rubs her neck, where a red line has appeared.

"Careful with the turning, Anden! We could have choked!" She says indignantly.

"Sorry, Lex. I couldn't ease into that turn." He looks around, frowning at her apologetically. His eyes flicker over to me momentarily. They linger on my neck, and a small smile curves his lips. My hand goes to my throat. It feels heated.

"I'm glad you're not hurt, Miss Amador."

Something about his smile makes him look proud. Proud that he didn't hurt me? Or proud that he did? Either way, there's an unnerving look of triumph in his eyes.

"Deva!"

I blink rapidly and turn to Alexandra. Her door is open. "Let's go."

I look back at Anden, who is stoic once more, all traces of pride and triumph gone from his expression.

"See you, then." I say, opening my door and stepping out.

From inside the car, I hear him say, "I'll be at Ezra's place shortly." He presses a button on the dashboard and the car doors shut. Alexandra and I walk around to the front of the car and give him some room to back out. A few seconds later, he's gone.

I look around the alley. It turns to the left, the empty space very narrow. I can see a light far in the distance, small dots sometimes obscuring it. They must be people. I smell the mustiness of wet clothes hanging on clotheslines above us, swaying silently in the breeze, blocking out most of the sunlight so only tiny slivers of it shine through. Trash litters the ground in front of us, and I think I see a stray cat's eyes.

"Come on." I begin walking through the alley, Alexandra's footsteps close behind me. It's better to walk through here, even if the smell and scenery isn't the best. Our clothes definitely aren't something seen regularly in the Outer Ring, so I don't want to attract any unnecessary attention towards us.

"What was it like, growing up here?" Alexandra asks.

I step over a pile of bones, bones that are too big to be an animal's. "I don't really know," I reply. "I lost all of my memories of my childhood."

"Oh, yeah, that's right..." She clears her throat. "So, you were sixteen when you got sick?"

"Around that age, yeah. Apparently it was horrible. A ton of people died, including my parents."

"I'm sorry," Alexandra says. "That must have been hard on you."

I shrug. "Not really, actually. I don't remember them." I pause, squeezing my eyes shut briefly to hopefully get rid of the tears that I feel forming. "It was much harder on my brother, I think."

After a full minute of walking in silence towards the light, Alexandra speaks again.

"I lost my mother to the Blot," she says quietly. "She was caught in the last wave of it, I guess. I was only just starting to make up for all of the time that was lost. And then..." She trails off, pain clearly in her voice. "They're dead now. Both of my parents."

"Does being in the Outer Ring remind you of her?"

"Occasionally," she replies, her voice weak; it breaks in places. "I can sometimes pretend that I never knew her, and if I do that, it's bearable. Most of the time, though, that's easier said than done. Is that how you feel about your brother?"

"No," I tell her. "Even if it hurts me, I hold on to the feeling. It helps me remember why I need him."

"I can't imagine how this situation is affecting you. He's the only person you ever really knew."

I consider her words. In a way, she's right. He was the first person I saw after I woke up without any idea of who I was or what my past was like. He cared for me, nursed me back to health, and worked hard to make my life easier. I depended so heavily on him that I couldn't bear to be apart from him for the first year after waking that day with no knowledge of anything. His presence soothed me and calmed me, and I would get anxious if he wasn't at my side for long periods of time. We couldn't even sleep in separate beds.

Sometimes, Blake liked to say I had been born twice- the first time, from our mother's womb, and the second, when my fever had finally broken and I had opened my eyes to a new world in which Blake was all I knew. It wasn't until Ezra and I became friends that Blake was able to spend significant periods of time away from me.

Now that Blake is missing, I'm functioning on something akin to adrenaline. It's pushing me forward so I can at least put up a strong front sometimes. But it's only a matter of time before I crumble, snivelling and grovelling because I am nothing without my brother.

Suddenly, I walk right into a hanging article of clothing. I splutter, surprised, and bat it away from my face. It detaches from its pins and falls onto my head. I yank it off, about to find a way to pin it back up, when I notice its possible use.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I hold up the fabric. It's not really any one shape, and it's a bit tattered on the seams. I look up at the clothes that are blocking the sky. There are quite a few of these pieces of fabric hanging on the lines. Often, people who can't afford actual clothing simply wrap themselves in these.

"Alexandra, wrap this around you. Cover your head with some of it." I hand her the shapeless, worn bit of fabric. "If you need more, I'll take some down for you."

She quirks a dark eyebrow. "Aren't you stealing?"

"No, I'm borrowing. Don't worry; people in the Outer Ring do this all the time. We'll give whatever we take back later."

As we're wrapping ourselves up in the fabric, she turns to me.

"You're the only person I'll ever let do this, but..." She smiles. "Call me Lex."

--

About half an hour later, we're standing in front of Ezra's door. We didn't get more than a passing glance on our way here thanks to these tattered old bits of fabric. I smile at the familiarity I associate with his unit, running a hand over the rough grey brick that makes up the outside. I stare at the door, covered in chipped red paint and posters, and knock.

The answer is immediate. The door swings open, and there in the doorway is Ezra, looking haggard, unshaven and paler than usual, but otherwise healthy. He stares at me for a good ten seconds, as if hardly daring to believe that I'm standing here in front of him. His brown eyes are wide, his pupils are dilated, and his lips are trembling.

"You're an asshole, you know that?" He says, and embraces me tightly, moving inside and refusing to let go of me. Lex quickly follows us inside and shuts the door, stripping off the fabric and piling it on her forearm.

"You think you're some bigshot now that you're with Idris, huh? Can't even give your good friend Ezra a 'hello' to let him know that you're not dead? I had to find out from-" He meets Lex's eyes. "-her, and now you're here! I had so much to say to you, Amador, and now... now..." He chokes off. "Damn it, you're gonna make me cry. Men don't cry. Ugh." He clings to me instead, arms tight around my torso. I hug him close to me, thankful that the one other person in this world that I care about, at the very least, hasn't been taken away from me, too.

When Ezra and I finally break apart from each other, the door opens. Anden comes through, holding something round and white with a candle in the middle in his hands.

It takes me a moment to figure out what it is, because I've only ever seen such a thing once in my life.

Lex shuts the door behind him. He strides over to the small, low table in the center of Ezra's unit and sets the thing down on it, along with four plates. Lex pulls out a candle. A flame appears on the wick, small and dim at first, and then becoming bigger and brighter. I stare at it, disbelieving.

"Is it really today?" I ask. "I didn't think it was..."

"It is." Lex says, beaming at me. Ezra puts an arm around my shoulders.

The chorus of their voices nearly bring me to tears.

"Happy eighteenth birthday, Deva."