Four days before the Selection

Big Papi's words jolt through me like a lightning strike.

It takes me a moment to find my voice again. "Oh..." is all I am able to say.

"I know what you're thinking: why the Tower, right?" Big Papi makes a surprisingly accurate guess. "People ask us that all the time too. Why not the soldiers? Why not NovaTopia and the shuttles and all the elites who live up there? And I simply ask them back: who trains the soldiers? Who's acting out all the orders from NovaTopia? Who's making the direct decision to cut our water and electricity, to steal our food and resources, to kill our people—all to ensure NovaTopia's dominance over us? It's the Tower, Alara. And if you cut out the Tower, there will be no more soldiers, there will be no more suffering, and NovaTopia will have no more control over us. They'll just be a piece of useless floating metal in the sky."

I stare at Big Papi, his words creating a storm in my head. The Tower cuts water and electricity off? And sends soldiers to steal things... and kill? The images of the people I shot return. The room spins around me. My heart thumps in my ears. Coldness spreads throughout my skin.

Why would the Tower ever order to kill? That's not right. That can't be right.

"So this is why our target is the Tower," Big Papi says. "It will get rid of all our problems here. And ultimately, we will topple that entire structure, one mission at a time. We've already been chipping away at the Tower's integrity for years with our many very successful attacks."

Wait, attacks?

Dread crawls up my heart. Could they be... No, no, it can't be—

"And just yesterday, we launched our most successful attack yet," he continues, unaware of the battle brewing inside of me. "We went to the upper floors of the Tower for the first time, and we razed them. We killed about twenty of those Tower Tots. Not as much as I'd like—we were discovered too quickly—but we will learn from that mistake. Our next mission will be stealthier and bigger, and soon, we'll wipe out the entire upper floors."

The truth punches me in the gut and confirms my biggest fear. These people—Big Papi, the people inside this building, the Piranhas—they're the ones responsible for the attack yesterday. Responsible for the destruction of Sánchez's cyberarm. Responsible for twenty deaths.

And he's happy about it?

My stomach is crawling with worms. I want to throw up.

This is the real face of the Piranhas. Violent. Cruel.

Bloodthirsty.

I can't keep up this act anymore.

"I- I need to find Sánchez," I mutter. "I have something... to ask them..."

"Oh, we'll find them later. Let me show you our meeting rooms, where all our brilliant plans are formed—"

"No, I- I need to find them... now." My voice is trembling. I take in a few deep breaths, trying to steady myself, but the shivers keep running through me.

Big Papi exchanges glances with the bodyguards behind him.

"Is she having a panic attack?" one of the guards asks.

"Whatever it is, she looks like she's about to pass out," the other adds.

Big Papi curses under his breath. "Okay, fine, let's get you back to Morgan."

Stumbling, I retrace my steps towards the room Sánchez went into. Big Papi and his underlings follow behind me cautiously, but I pay them no attention.

When I reach the door next to the crate of mechanical limbs, I push it open. Sánchez is sitting on a chair with a few people. Mechanical body parts are strewn about the room. In the corner, Tiffany is measuring a man's arm.

"Lorensky?" Sánchez stands up. "What happened?"

"Sánchez..."

They march towards me and clasp my arm. "Are you okay? Did Waldo do something?"

"We- We should go, and- um..." I gulp. "Can we just go, please?"

"Yes." Their hand remains firmly on me as they lead me out.

"Hey, Morgan!" Big Papi's voice is like nails on a cyberarm. "Is she okay?"

"We need some air. We will be back."

"Is she really having a panic attack? Do you need me to get her a medic?" he asks. Sánchez is pulling me away, but he is still there. Still right behind me.

"Thanks for your hospitality, Waldo, but we'll settle this ourselves."

"Oi, you ingrate, I told you to call me Big Papi!"

"Again, not calling you that. Come up with a better name."

"Don't make me regret extending an olive branch to you!"

We halt to a stop.

I've been blindly letting Sánchez drag me along, but I look up, finally taking in the world around me. Four armed guards stand in front of us and block us from the entrance.

"Let us go," Sánchez demands.

One guard responds by pointing his gun at Sánchez's chest.

"What's happening here?" Big Papi steps in. "Let them go, guys. Alara's having a panic attack."

"You might want to hear this, Big Papi," another guard says. He leans over and whispers something into Big Papi's ears.

Big Papi's eyes widen. Whatever semblance of friendliness vanishes, and fury takes over. Intense, blazing fury.

"Your weapons were NovaTopian-issued?" he barks. "So you did go to the Tower, you fucking traitor! Is Alara also a Tower Tot then? I knew she was too good to be true!"

"Shit," Sánchez mutters. They let go of my hand and, before anyone can react, swipe the weapon away from their chest—right before the guard takes aim. The stray bullet strikes the wall with a loud bang. The sound is enough distraction for Sánchez to kick the guard in his crotch, shove him aside, turn to me, and yell, "Run!"

Sánchez's instruction snaps me out of my stupor, and I run.

Two more gunmen get their rifles out in front of me, but their reaction time is slower than the simulations I do for cadet training. I grab the heads of the rifles and thrust them into their owners' stomachs. Sánchez kicks one guard away while I punch the other unconscious. And then, amid people's cries and gasps, the two of us barge out of the building.

"Get back here, traitor!" Big Papi bellows.

"Bésa mi culo!" Sánchez shouts. "Turn left here!"

We turn left into a street. Bullets are flying around us, and I can hear a horde chasing after us.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"Anywhere! Just gotta shake them off. Turn right here!"

With Sánchez's instructions, we weave through the buildings in the area and the random passersby around. Behind us, the Piranhas are firing their weapons and spewing insults. Stray bullets puncture the walls and smash windows into smithereens, smothering our path in smog and glass shards.

A thundering blast brings an entire house down. Next to me, Sánchez yells.

"Sánchez! You okay?"

"Keep going!" they say immediately. "And turn right in front!"

Debris falls around us as we continue sprinting forward. The Piranhas must have gathered larger weapons because their missiles are causing the full destruction of buildings and trees.

"Why are they destroying the place?" I ask exasperatedly. "Don't they live here?"

"They don't give a flying crap about that. Left!"

We veer into a cramped alley, which turns out to be a poor decision. The building next to us detonates and begins to crumble, and we have but a few seconds to make it through before getting crushed.

"Go!" Sánchez exclaims, their voice cracking.

My legs are heavy from the non-stop running for the past fifteen minutes, but I clench my teeth and accelerate with Sánchez. It's a few hundred feet away. We can make it.

As rubble falls, dust blurs the path in front of us. It's hard to see and hard to breathe. Tiny stones pelt my back, with its impact growing by the second.

Sánchez is faster than me. The moment they step into safety, something pummels into my back. I fall to my knees.

The pain envelops me and drowns out my senses. Stars explode in my eyes while my heartbeat throbs out of my ears. I cannot see, I cannot hear, and I can barely feel cold sweat on my skin and the warm blood trickling down my hands. All I know is pain. The pain in my back. The pain in my shoulder.

"Lorensky!"

Sánchez's strained cry pierces into my mind. I've never heard this high of a pitch from them before.

"Lorensky, no..." they mutter.

No, we need to keep running. We need to get out of here. I've seen the weapons the Piranhas have, and it's terrifying.

I reach to my back. A rod poking out. Whatever this thing is, it fell out of the collapsing building and impaled me. Grasping the jagged surface, I yank the metal rod off of myself. A roar escapes my throat. This time, the pain is a million times worse than before, and once again, I am consumed with it.

I must have blacked out for a moment there, because I blink my eyes open to see Sánchez kneeling in front of me, eyes glistening with tears.

"Let's go," I croak.

"But you're..."

I push myself off the ground. "Let's go," I repeat before speeding forward.

It only takes a beat for Sánchez to catch up to me. "Lorensky, you're going to make your wound worse—"

"I'm fine. Turn into this corner!"

The path ends up being a dead end, but there is a covered hole in the ground. I run towards it, lift the cover, and look inside. A ladder leads downwards into the void.

"Let's hide in here," I say.

Sánchez limps towards the hole. Somewhere along the way, they must have sprained their legs but kept on running. Their jaw is clamped tight from the discomfort, but they force out a nod.

"Get in first," I tell them. "I'll go last and cover it back up."

As they climb in, I monitor the road. The Piranhas are nowhere in sight. I can still hear their raging cries, but they sound far enough away. After a few moments, I lower myself into the hole, drag the cover over it, and plunge myself into darkness. Using only my touch to figure out the next steps, I slowly climb down the ladder.

"Lorensky," Sánchez whispers, "um, let's... go back up..."

"What? Why?" I land on the ground with a soft thud. The floor feels damp. "We lost the Piranhas. This is the best way to stay hidden till they're all gone."

"We, uh," Sánchez says, voice low and trembling, "we may have invaded their home."

I turn around. In the midst of the darkness, there are three pairs of glowing red eyes. Rumbling growls fill the new stillness.

Oh, Earth.

"What- What are they?" I ask faintly.

"They're rats the size of the bikes we rode."

"Wait. You can see them?"

"Yeah, I can see in the dark, so I can tell that they're- they're not happy. We might be able to leave now before they decide to rip us apart..."

Spinning around, I feel for the ladder. Then, I tighten my grip, position my feet properly, and yank the metal rung off.

"Lorensky, what are you—"

"Now that I know you can see, it changes everything. I'd rather fight three stinking rats than a whole army of people up there. Tell me where I should hit, okay?" I turn back to the creatures. I still can't see them, but I can now smell their stank. They must be a lot closer now.

"But your injury—"

My injury is the least of my problems; the pain in my back is but a faint echo in my mind now. So, I lift the ladder rung—and charge forward at the glowing eyes.