Cheers and rambunctious laughter echo out from a tinny house. Metal window slits, gray and stained doors- it looked very much run-down despite the upbeat atmosphere. Faint vapors drifted out from the windows along with the aroma of garlic and sweetness.
Compared to the lower city, this mid-city home could afford some extra spices grown in labs. It helped that a few members of the family were alchemists who assisted in producing various chemicals used for city maintenance. Occasionally, since they were close to the food alchemists, they traded directly.
An unfair advantage over the rest of the city, who had to pay hefty coin for even a pinch of spice. Were any of them going to complain about the morality of it? No, not really. It was one of the few luxuries granted to them as long as they didn't get caught. Besides, they were the ones producing it.
But as of this moment?
The gathering of over a dozen people swallow their pills before cracking the roaches in unison.
"Here's to old Grouch! May he have better days in the afterlife!"
"Cheers!"
"Woo!"
Roaches, flavored with garlic, giving it that sharp and unique zing known only to the people of this city. Like a rich pudding or a strong dish loved by specific cultures.
And after the first bite, everyone takes a swig. For some it's sweet, others plain, but all have a slightly gritty and sandy texture to them. While the kids drink a less thick version, the adults have one that's heavier. More like a slurry and having an alcoholic edge.
One of the adults of the family speaks up, "They hauled his body off this morning to the crematorium?"
"Aye. By now it's ashes."
"Why didn't you let us know before you sent him off? We would've liked to know..."
Upset and anger start to rise, already breaking this upbeat gathering.
"It keeps getting stuck in my teeth," a kid complained while drinking his.
"Just the nutrients they add in. Keep drinking if you want to grow!" an adult waved him on.
"Yuck..."
The adult chuckled as the kid struggled to drink it, using him as a distraction while the family argument escalated.
"Tastes better when you're older."
"Really?"
"Yeah, it numbs your troubles and the world away."
"Where does this meat come from?" the kid then asked, stabbing a piece with a fork.
"The Upper City. They have farms with untainted animals. Cows, chickens... animals from before the Black Portal Invasion."
"Can I see one?"
"No, sorry, kid. I haven't seen one either. It's only for the Upper City to see."
"Aw..."
"Why can't we see them? Grow our own?" the kid asked, tilting his head.
"That's..." The bickering in the room began to slow. Eyebrows raised, glances exchanged- like a quiet revelation spreading through the group. "That's... a really good question."
"Because there aren't enough resources," one person offered.
"That's chemical wash! There are plenty of-"
Meanwhile, as the family enjoyed, or endured, their gathering and the argument over the food supply began to stir, the last of the factory lights flickered out in the city. Located off to the side, several buildings behind and away from the road leading to the upper city, a building with the words "Crematorium" embedded on it.
Inside?
A silver container swings open, hissing. Contrasting sharply with the grey and silver, the golden liquid in the canisters moves as if someone's stirring it. With only the faint glimmer of light from several pipes crisscrossing across the factory, it illuminates the floor's stains and scuffs. If they hadn't witnessed the process, it could've easily passed as a normal industrial factory.
But to the group? It was unsettlingly eerie. Staring at the vats, they could easily picture the scene playing out again before flashing back to the misty, glinting emptiness. The faint smell of iron and burnt aroma, however, remained.
Without wasting time, uncertain if there were guards stationed outside who could see the lights dancing, Noland opened and shut it just as quickly after taking out two canisters. They had looked around briefly, ensuring no one was on the floor, but were completely devoid of any desire to look through windows or doors at this point.
And as quickly as the door had opened and shut, he was already running back to the waste exit where Jade and Lucky peeked from apprehensively. The golden serum illuminated his heavy brown outfit, bandana-style mask, and goggles. A golden light, which looked too clean and good for such a world, made him appear like a monster stealing precious artifacts.
They ran. Golden light danced through the corridor, glinting off their stained goggles and blending with the tunnel lights. A heightened tension filled each of them, scared they would be caught by an invisible pursuer, but still willing to risk it.
They breathed heavily. The tunnels' toxins, steaming orange and green chemicals, now danced with more hues of color as the golden light affected it. From black, to sparkling white, to sickly green and orange, and back. Never staying one shade for too long as Noland passed a canister to Jade.
"Why did you take two?" Jade hissed angrily from underneath her mask, removing the empty canister from her sling and replacing it. "We only needed one! What are we going to do with two?!"
"In case we lose one. I don't want to come back here a second time," Noland said grimly. That was a feeling that resonated with the group and Jade dropped it just as quickly in agreement.
"Did either of you see that strange substance they pulled out of the body? It moved as if it had life..."
Both Lucky and Jade shook their heads. Jade shook her head, "That's the last thing I to know is that there is something living inside me."
"No fucking way?! Something is living-" Jade whacked Lucky across the head.
Lucky rubbed his head before he picked up the empty canister and gripped it to his side. "Maybe we can sell the extra in Mid-City? Get some extra coin?"
Slinging the canister over her shoulder, Jade shook her head. "This stuff stands out too much. Have any of you heard of or seen this until now? Exactly."
"I was thinking we keep it for now and hide it out on the Chemical Sea," Noland shrugged as they started walking again.
"For...?"
"For if we end up making more? Or if we don't, then... yeah, as Lucky said. We just sell it."
"I want to hit you both. I really do."
Lucky piped up, a flash of white light glinting off his goggles from the blending hues. "Hey, uhm... on the bright side, we did it! We can cook a batch, sell the old defects, and-"
"Shut up, Lucky." Noland sharply cut in again, glaring at him through his goggles. Lucky's form stiffened and he hung his head.
"Sorry... just trying to lighten things up after..."
"It's alright," Jade said, patting his shoulder, contrasting Noland's agitation and stirring some anger within him.
"It's not alright. None of that," he gestured sharply behind them, "-was alright!"
"Getting mad at us doesn't change it!" Jade snapped back. "We can go back and start breaking shit if that'll make you feel better! Want to go back now?!"
"WE CAN'T!" Noland shouted, frustration spilling out.
Both Jade and Lucky reeled from his explosion, their pace slowing considerably.
"We can't..." Noland said again, softer now, fists clenched and voice tight with emotion. "Even if I want to. That's the city's food supply. Destroying it would just starve the city..."
Silence fell over them. With no visible expressions through their goggles and masks, from the outside it looked like three people standing still. Their postures slumped, the golden light once again painting them as three shadowy and menacing figures.
Turning back around, knowing he'd be unable to voice his anger and frustration without shouting again, Noland kept walking. The faint pattering of the others trailed behind but with slightly more distance this time. He felt like an ass, and knew he'd have to apologize later, but in that moment...
What's more is the unsettling imagery of whatever was being sent off in the fanciest of boxes. All of them were taken away when he nabbed the canisters, so he couldn't resolve that unsettling feeling left within him.
'Shit... I'm getting hungry...' Noland thought, his stomach gurgling, and the imagery returned, bringing nausea with it.
'Fuckin' ignorance is bliss, ain't it...'
---------------
Knock, knock, knock.
The metal door to Fenrik's home groaned as it opened. Fenrik, lithe and sickly gray, exhaled slowly with a grim expression.
Jack and two officers, clad in heavy black uniforms, stood there menacingly. It had been a while since Jack had turned bald, leaving only his rough facial features as he clasped his cap to his chest. Features that indicated he'd been in many fights from a squashed, crooked nose to scars from weapons.
"Why are you back?" Fenrik croaked, letting out a few wet coughs.
Jack, however, didn't immediately respond. Instead, he turned, looking out across the pier at their metal boat, before he sighed and a disappointed expression returned to Fenrik.
"Do you remember when we discovered this city's secrets together?" Jack asked, and Fenrik tensed. His frail figure easily gave it away, and Jack sighed again.
"The adventures we went on were… fun. Until that day," he continued, vague, shifting his weight as the other two looked around cautiously. "And we agreed to never go down that path again."
His gaze sharpened suddenly, meeting Fenrik's own. "We've been tipped off that three individuals entered the waste system through the western entrance. Two males. One, perhaps a female."
"Where are your adoptees, Fenrik?" Jack demanded.
"No idea. They'll be back soon."
Jack's gaze wandered the empty home behind him, then he snorted. "Or they won't. A detachment's already been sent to arrest them once they exit the waste system."
A small flicker in Fenrik's eyes betrayed him again, even if no words were spoken. Jack noticed- but still didn't outright accuse him. Perhaps it was sympathy toward the skeletal man he once knew.
"You come with us for the time being. If they aren't your adoptees, you'll be released. But if they are-"
The two officers behind him stepped forward, grabbing Fenrik's shoulders as one handcuffed his hands behind his back.
"Then I, with Command's permission, will do what I must to protect this city. Execution-"
"Banishment," Fenrik cut him off.
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that cruel? Banishment is far worse than execution. A slow, painful death under the wasteland's unforgiving skies, or brutal monsters that would tear them apart- or worse. I thought you cared for them."
"Do you remember when we discovered this city's secrets together?" Fenrik mocked, and Jack's expression tightened. "We were both shocked by the truth. The truth, Jack."
"The truth can do more harm than good. You never seemed to get that. You never did." Jack looked at him with disgust, but his tone still carried confusion. "But I still don't understand your request."
"Of course you don't. You never did," Fenrik echoed, mocking his words back.
Jack's jaw clenched. He stepped aside from the entrance and growled, "Take him away."
"Stupid bastard, wanting to be special while damning the youth," Jack sighed, stepping inside as the two officers escorted Fenrik away. The old man glanced over his shoulder, trying to speak but more wet coughs tore through him before he could get a word out.
Meanwhile, Jack scanned the interior, flipping open boxes and moving items aside with methodical frustration. His frown deepened as his gaze settled on the canister rack.
There were three the last time he was here.
Now, only two.
He exhaled heavily, standing there in front of it for a long, quiet moment before turning to leave. With one last look at the empty slot, he stepped out and gently closed the door behind him.