Stepping inside the walls, it's strange how the wind disappears almost immediately.

I'm not used to it, and it's almost disconcerting not to need to lean into the wind ever so slightly.

"The dome keeps the elements controlled," the man from the wall explained, keeping his distance - like the other men that seem hesitant to come within a few feet of me.

I appreciate the space.

"Dome," the word felt strange on my tongue.

I know the word, yet it doesn't seem to make sense to me in this context. The walls are tall and grey stone, thick enough that if I'd laid on the ground it would have taken two of my body to reach from the front to the back... but there is nothing above it. There is no ceiling I can see.

What dome?

"There is an energy field above the wall," the man explained, guiding me forward now that we've moved through the gate and into the city, "You can see it more clearly when it's raining or snowing, but even now it's there."

"Energy field?"

I don't know that term at all, and truly don't have any concept of what he's trying to explain. Even as my head swivels around and I process that this city isn't like the dead ones I've wandered through, I can't seem to process what I'm seeing.

"You have... light?"

I finally gasp, my eyes going wide and my footsteps faltering when I realize what is prickling at the back of my mind... what's so different.

Light. Power. They have electricity!

"Jesus, kid," the older man mutters, "You... you really are an outlander..."

"Come on, Grace," the man from the wall coaxes, guiding me without touching me toward a building near the gate, "Come inside. Let's talk, alright? George, man the wall."

"Yes, sir!" the older man barked, and he and the others that had come out to greet me all scurried back toward the gate.

I forgot all about them though and nearly leapt out of my skin when the door to the building opened on its own when we got close to it.

"Woah, it's okay! Calm down, it's just an automatic door. It's alright," the man cooed, surprised at my reaction but stopping beside me where I eyed the thing warily rather than pushing ahead.

Don't like that... nope, don't like that at all...

"It's just motion activated, Grace," he explained patiently, clearly fighting a smile, "See that black box? It's got a sensor in it. When it senses motion near it, it opens automatically. That's all."

Do I care how it works? I'm not sure... I just know I don't like it. If it only opens when it wants to, what's to stop it from locking me inside?

"Even if it got stuck," he tried again, "You could just break through the glass to escape, right?"

Hmm... okay, I supposed that's true.

Cautiously inching toward it, I eyed the doorframe warily until we were through. Inside the building resembles many other buildings I've scavenged through, though not dilapidated like I'm used to.

The tile on the ground isn't chipped, but instead shiny and clean. The walls aren't filled with holes and covered in grime. There are no bodies on the floor or broken furniture scattered everywhere. It looks like an office building from books I've read with a large reception desk and a waiting area to the side, then a large staircase behind it.

The entire space was brightly colored and well lit, and there were people moving around as if it was perfectly normal... as if this wasn't completely insane.

I know my eyes have gone wide, unable to focus on a single thing as my gaze bounces from shiny surface to shiny surface in surprise.

"Come on, Grace," the man said quietly, clearly amused by my reaction, "Let's-"

As I pushed my hood away and pulled my mask down - after all I am inside - his words stopped. Turning to him in surprise, I could only guess at what has his eyes bugging out of his head and his body frozen stiff.

I don't sense danger, but I still look around curiously for whatever it is that made him freeze. I turned back to him, though, when all I saw were other men that had also frozen in place and were now staring at us.

"L-let's go to my office," he finally forced out, his eyes locked on mine in what I can only assume is shock.

Is it my face? Is my face what shocked him?

I won't pretend like I haven't seen my fair share of battles, but my mutation keeps me from scarring or wearing my injuries like others do. So, my face isn't all cut up or anything - not that I'd judge anyone if theirs were, given that mine would be if I were literally anyone else.

You know, it could be my hack job of a haircut. I keep it extremely short - after all, it's not like I have the tools to maintain it and it's just a liability in a fight.

I'll bet that's it - it probably looks horrible to people that clearly have the ability to worry about things like that.

I'm not one of them. I don't care how stupid my hair looks. I've been more worried about staying alive.

Ignoring the stares from various men that have stopped to go slack jawed, I follow the man up the stairs and through a far more normal door. The large suite beyond is impressive, a sitting area beside a moving image capturing my attention as I try to understand what I'm seeing.

"It's just a recording," he explains, walking in and placing his jacket on the large desk to the far side, "the screen is meant to look kind of like a window, and the recording of the jungle beyond is meant to be soothing."

"Power," I mutter quietly, still shocked to see it, "you... have power."

"We do," he chuckled, walking over and guiding me to sit on the couch before sitting in the chair across from it, "Cities got power back over a decade ago. It was only in the early years when we were without it."

"Cities," I asked, tilting my head.

I don't know how many there are, but I've walked for years and this is the first time I've found one that had people in it.

"Indeed," he muses, sitting back and crossing his legs even as he studies me, "The further inland you go, the more secure and closer together the cities are. Out here, near the outlands, the cities are further apart and not quite as advanced as the inner cities."

"Outlands."

Why does he keep saying that?

"Yeah, outlands," he said seriously with a nod, "the deserts. The outer rim of the continent. Thousands of miles, from the coasts inward, that are considered uninhabitable. We've actively worked to push the invaders that direction, and have abandoned most of that territory. It's considered a wasteland."

Shrugging, I can only acknowledge he isn't wrong.

"How long have you been out there?" he asked, studying me.

"Since they came."

"Since... since the invasion?" he clarified, blinking in clear shock at my statement.

I nodded once, trying to figure out exactly what to do with my hands... and my eyes... and actually, everything else. Sitting still and talking with a stranger in a place I don't know has my skin itching and it's hard to figure out exactly how to... be.

"You seem uneasy," he said, his eyes softening slightly, "Let's take a step back. My name is Simon, Simon Powell. I am a defense commander here for the city, which really just means I oversee the wall and security measures. I keep the aliens out and the resources in. We try to encourage outlanders to at least stop for a visit and give us updates on the wastelands when they pass by - outlanders often have knowledge beyond where our scouts stop. They also tend to be skilled hunters, so if they decide to stay they usually find work at the hunter's guild."

He paused for a moment, and I just nodded in understanding to encourage him to continue.

"Hunters trade meat for credits. Credits are how you do everything - it's the modern-day currency when printing money is both unrealistic and wasteful. Meat, especially in the outer cities, is difficult to come by, so we need people to go out and hunt it. Agriculture isn't what it used to be, and raising cattle is just not practical - especially out here. Instead, we've gone all in on produce production in-city and rely on hunters guilds to provide the meat for citizens."

"I can hunt," I offered with a shrug, not really sure if he was asking for me to fill the role of a hunter but not turned off by it if he was.

That's literally my best skill, if I'm honest.

"No!" he gasped, leaning forward suddenly and making me freeze in surprise - my hand flicking toward my sword out of instinct.

He cleared his throat, leaning back again before taking a breath and continuing.

"You misunderstand," he explained, clearly trying to force himself to be calm, "I was trying to explain why we were trying to convince you to stay before we even knew you were a woman."

Tilting my head, I let my hand drop and return to my lap.

"Knowing you are a woman changes things, Grace," he continued, resting his elbows on his knees then, "The aliens came for women first. There are very few of them left - only a handful per city. Out here there are entire cities with no women at all, since they prefer the inner cities where the technology is more advanced and the luxuries are more abundant. Your presence here is nothing short of an honor, and many would likely call it a blessing."

I raised my eyebrow then, hardly amused at the implications.

"I will not entertain your men."

I may have a lackluster education compared to many, but I've read enough.

The way he choked on his soul, his face turning red as he struggled to catch his breath, had me smirking slightly.

"T-that's not," he rasped, quickly pouring a cup of water from the pitcher on the table and taking a gulp before trying again, "that is not what I meant!"

He took a couple of deep breaths before composing himself.

"Women reacted to the mutations differently than men. They are stronger. Smarter. Those that survived have become humanity's final hope. However, women are currently outnumbered by men by more than 50 to 1. Humans are already fighting extermination from the invaders, but now we are also fighting extinction. The mutations have changed things - like the fact that not all mutant types are able to reproduce together and that blood bonds are now required to reproduce at all. It took decades for us to fully understand the situation, and by then the situation was dire.

For this, and many more reasons, women are protected. They are not hunters, but the thinkers - politicians, teachers, even artists. Women are encouraged to stay within the walls where they can be the brains behind the brawn. Women are the future of our species, and society has adapted to care for them appropriately."

My eyebrows raised throughout his little spiel, and were lost to my hairline by the time he was done.

The brains behind the brawn? What kind of weird... no. I have no brains. I am not smart and cannot provide brains like that. Commanding? Leading? Even teaching?

My brother could have filled those roles for sure, but me? I kill shit. That's all I do.

"I am not like those women," I finally said, studying his face seriously, "I hunt. I do not lead."

I have no interest in hiding in their city to become some fat politician while the creatures that killed my family roam freely.

No one knows the aliens like me. No one understands them like me. I belong out there, not hidden away inside.

"Grace," Simon said patiently, like he's talking to a child, "Women are also the only ones capable of saving mankind. To protect the future of the human race, a system has been put into place. Everyone that is registered is compiled into the system, and it recommends potential matches for women based on biological compatibility. A woman receives many matches to encourage diverse reproduction. This ensures every woman has providers and protection, too."

Now, I've read a lot... don't get me wrong... but I think what I just heard broke my brain.

"I don't understand," I admitted, furrowing my brow, "many... matches?"

"Yes," he confirmed, "Genetic diversity is more important now than ever. This was the foundation of the multi-match concept, especially after discovering mutations have made blood bonds a prerequisite for procreation. However, it's also practical in other ways, not the least of which is that bound men don't mutate uncontrollably."

He studied me for a moment before adding, "Blood bonds trigger deep loyalty and protectiveness in partners. You'll find that traditional conflict and jealousy that existed before the invasion isn't really applicable these days."

"No," I shook my head, standing - partially because I don't know what else to do, "I cannot help. I need to leave."

"Grace, wait!" Simon exclaimed, reaching toward me but stopping just before touching me, "Stop, please. Just... just listen."

"I am a hunter," I explained, cutting him off with a glare, "Not a damsel. Not a baby making factory. I cannot help you."

He blinked in shock, and thankfully that shock gave me time to dash out the door and down the stairs. I was already leaving out the front door before I heard Simon's voice calling for me, clearly having shaken his stupor.

Too late, though - I was already heading toward the gates.

"Grace?" the older man from earlier called down from the wall, and I looked up with a firm glance.

"Open the gates."

"Now hang on," the man said suddenly, glancing behind me, "Wait a second, what-"

"Open them, or I break them down."

I should have known it was a trick. A trap. They claimed I could leave any time, but they never meant it.

"Grace, wait! Please!" Simon's voice was getting louder behind me, but I only glared at the man on the wall.

"Now."

"Grace, hang on a sec," the older man stuttered, clearly trying to buy time for Simon to reach me - but I wasn't waiting.

Instead, I walked forward and prepared to shatter the gate.

"Open it, George."

That's right, the man's name was... wait, who is that?

I glanced over my shoulder to see a man in the shadows, but I didn't wait to see more - the gates began to open and I slipped out the second the gap was large enough for me.

"Sir! You can't - she's a woman!"

"I am aware of that, Mr. Powell. Did you intend to cage her until she did what you wanted?"

"She's an outlander, sir. She just doesn't understand yet-"

"She wanted to leave, and that is her right. She doesn't owe you understanding or time in exchange for the right to leave."

"But sir-"

"You are relieved, commander."

Their voices got quieter and quieter as I bolted out, and the second I was able to hide in some rubble I dove into my pocket space in desperate need of a place to breathe.

That was way too much, and I think I'm going to stay here for a couple of days until I can process what just happened.

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