Chapter Text
The view from the tower was… tragically deserted. Literally. The usual moving miniature of polluted people was noticeably decreased. The vast and vibrant colors filled with aesthetic buildings were replaced by convoluted monochrome colors.
There’s nothing enjoyable looking at the fen of debris miles away below for the young soldier. Especially when almost the whole dining area was made of glass.
These residents liked to call it, The Observatory. The place where he finally saw the implementation of how the waste was manufactured he usually heard in Gur’latan. The land of Gugura was not as huge as Rimbara, but it was sectioned into three different designated areas. Organized in form of a grand triangle with the Atata Tiga Tower as its center. That man was not joking when he said there were no rivers circling the nation. Each sector was bridged by train rail for transporting those rummages and soldiers except criminals–or these soldiers called them ‘workers' –could never pass through it. Try to escape and you will be welcomed by the never-ending void below the cliff. The only way to escape is by increasing your ‘loyal work’ towards forces and you might be promoted to the next Sector. A rare chance that you could be free and occupied by the Cubulus forces to become one of them.
‘Tch, what a waste. You're just circling your never ending life at this point’ he mindly observed in disgust.
On his right, the first place of all scraps thrown from around the world was gathered. The Sektor-A or people here like to call it, ‘The Assortment.’ True to its title, he can see most of the extractions of filtering waste happening: the rough waste from buildings, food waste, and usage items compiled there. The place was divided between dry and wet waste. Wet waste was extracted inside a dome to prevent gas pollution, so they say. Whereas the drier one was organized in an open space. It is the place where most of the workers gather to filter mountains of trash. Iron, cement, stones, plastic, and even fabrics into the train. Sector-A might be the dirtiest place the teen ever witnessed. Looking up from the tower, all he could see was tons of dumps without seeing any real land to stand. He was informed that all of them lived on their own, yet he almost could not see any houses or even places for workers to rest.
Continued to look at his north side, the place of that thin teenager worked. ‘The Disintegration’ or Sector-B. It was less “flooded” than the previous one. In that Sector, the gathered materials were sent to another inspection whether the parts might be hazardous to the environment or not. Then, all the assorted materials that had gathered were crushed into pieces inside multiple giant shredders. Each material had its own secured area to disintegrate. Workers who did not do the heavy parts(delivering the content by excavators or by truck) worked in two shifts, the scavenging one and the moldering one. The scavenging workers usually help the excavators to swipe the materials into the giant shredder so there will be no left behind. The latter workers had to mold the shredded materials into a solid square form for easier storage on the train. It was the place where he found his target in the Iron area. Sometimes the soldier hoped that the teen worked in the next and the last Sector.
By the map, Sector-C or ‘The Recycle’ was on the east side. But looking from the Observatory, it was on his left side. Other than the Tower, It is the only tidiest place in Gugura’s land. Almost no scraps not yet been found as far as his eyes could see since all the scraps there were recycled into a renewable form for future constructions in the other nations. All areas were fully organized without scratching each other lines. It might be the place where the workers had more life advantages than the previous two. Not surprising when the Forces tend to describe Sector-C as ‘the place for dedicated workers’. Their houses were surely a bit proper(even though it's just an empty shelter he bet) and their foods were directly provided by the Forces. He might be insane if he thought this Sector was what he dreamed of, no. Gugura was still a dumpster deserted land and this place was no exception. He could tell they might give more or less a lease amount of percentage than the actual payment.
But The soldier could barely stand the smell of Sector-B even after three days since his arrival. He cursed himself when will the boy get out of here? How long till the teen got promoted to this Sector? How did the teen seem too normal in this atmosphere? And a bunch of other complaints made him forget that he had a tray of food in his hand.
He was supposed to find a table for him to eat but he was caught by the grand view of Gugura below him. And when he was finally awake, he realized …
He needed to take off his helmet.
Both eyes were fully wide and his grip tightened. He then started to regret his habit back in Gur’latan might have worked in this area. Delaying his eating time for the sake of secrecy eventually broke his facade when you were now at the driest land on the planet. He knew he could not depend on drinking water to survive in this state.
He took a deep breath. Look side to side for alternatives. People were too busy watching news from the big screen at the center hall, gathering food, playing cards, or… whatever the hell they did in this place. There should be a command or button to only open the lower part of the helmet so he could eat normally without revealing his face... oh…
Why did he not think of that before?—
Prak!
?!
His breath forcibly stopped when he quickly turned his sight to empty hands and the scattered food on the floor in front of him.
“Oh, goody! Watch your step, needle!” The high mocking tone alarmed him behind his back. Waving hands while distancing further from him.
He knew it was his fault when he saw the opponent’s hand purposely push his tray to the floor a few seconds slower than his action. Not wanting to add arguments, he deeply sighed and grabbed the tray—
Buak!
In the next second, he was pushed by a force that was too heavy for his body to hold. The colliding sound between him and the solid metal floor almost echoed in the hallway.
“What’s with that nasty helmet, eh needle? How can you eat if it's stuck on your head? HAHAHA!”
The sudden attention grabbed laughing audiences nearby after the man successfully smacked him without his sight. The culprit then walked back to his group and celebrated his victory with others as they continued to the hall. Leaving the said person alone surrounded by endless giggles.
The soldier’s glad he was equipped with a full-face helmet. Everyone could never see his face and he also was not directly touched by scattered foods on the floor…aside from his clothes obviously.
Ignoring the snickering stare circling him, the soldier rose to his feet. Swipe any stain excess that had stuck on his clothes. Then continue wrapping up the tray back on the automatic tray washer near the kitchen.
“Was that the needle from Sector-B?”
"He's finally going out to eat??"
"What a shocker, the infamous showmaker finally stepped out from his room."
“He thinks he could be in control after he pulled the act?”
“What a shame though. The needle dropped his first food. As expected from Gur'latans.”
“Is he truly from NTE? This year's NTE has not even been held yet!”
“Well, he passed from last year's event, according the data.”
“Nah, bet 20 bucks he's ditched from his family”
“Gur'latan will be in shambles if they find out there's a new generation thrown to this dumpster.”
Where was the applause moment from day one? The teen somehow missed that short paparazzi moment after that show. If he had to choose, he'd rather be surrounded by frightening stares from workers than this.
Did these people hate Gur'latan so much or because his presence here was absurd to them?
He decided to grab a loaf of bread and fastened his pace. Walked back to his room located a few floors below The Observatory. The process was full of silent laughs and whispers along the way. The disturbance noises eventually stopped interrupting his mind when he arrived at the door with a coded number to differentiate between him and others.
Opened up, there's not much to say about this single person 'flat' for him. Boring? With only a bed, a basin, a small shelf, and a small window to entertain? Definitely! But it was the most secure place out of surveying cameras.
After he made sure his empty arm loosened his tight grip, he let out a big breath as he unbuttoned his clothes. Revealing a white shirt with less stain beneath it. He then gave another inspection to see no more stains or any excess still left on it. He remembered there was a laundry section on the bottom floor. He might need it with how smelly this cloth would become if he kept it in here. But now was not the time.
He needed some explanation from that man, right now.
He turned on the switch. Damped the noticeable spots on his clothes with water and scrubbed them.
'Argh! This is harder than I thought! Who are you calling me 'needle' huh?! I rather stay away from this hell if not because of him! Why must he have to be here anyway?!'
The intense voice in his head also impacted his scrubbing pattern to be more violent. Did not much affect the result, but it got the job done since the stains were not dry yet so they still could be washed with only water. After a little squeeze, he hung it with a hanger near an opened window for faster drying.
Which was an opportunity to push the communicator button at his right 'ear' helmet. A buzzing sound confirmed the dialing call was working.
While waiting, The teen soldier took a chance to wear off his helmet. Revealing a sparkling night sky that reflected on his moonstone eyes. His single white stroke hair also matched the colors of his eyes. He felt a big relief when he could shake his black hair flawlessly without any weight strangling him.
"Finally you called Eh? How's your vacation?"
The static voice did not change the mocking tone the teen was very familiar with.
"You could've told me how nasty these guys here!"
The receiver responded with the most demonic laugh the teen ever encountered... So far.
"That's what you get being part of Cubulus Forces in Gugura land. It is the land of wanted people anyway. Isn't this what you ask for?"
The said teen massaged his forehead before replaying back, "Yet I did not expect my presence will be affected so horribly."
"Ooh Presence? What did you do?"
"More like, what did they do to me." He Corrected. He let his body collide on the rough bed beside the shelf and the helmet. "Cut to the point, I found him."
" Him ? You mean--"
"My other self, yes. He works at Sector-B." He grabbed the helmet and slid its surface as if it were like a touchscreen device while the screen was inside his helmet. He tinkered with the selection of the screen and sent the picture of the same person he met on the first day to the person he was calling. "How he could withstand living in that dirty place for a long time, I have no idea."
The receiver was silent for a moment.
"...I can't believe your made-up stories are real. Didn't realize a false rumor about the poor teenager sent to Jail before turned out to be your...duplicate."
He hummed in agreement while putting his helmet back on top of the shelf. Of course, he was ecstatic to see the mirror image of him come to life. Watching blurry images from his dreams was absolutely different than seeing in reality. That was also the reason why he pulled his act on his first day. Aside from how loud the man yelled at him, it was the quickest way to gather attention in one place so he could search for that teen more easily.
"Hold on, Sector B? Has he gotten promoted already? Awh your disgusted face is what I'm looking for, after all, Khehhehehehe."
The teen rolled his silver eyes. "I don't have time for this, I need you to send P.R.O.B.E drone to fix the watch."
"The watch? Aren't your watch--"
"Not mine... his." He rose from the bed to a sitting position so he could open the shelf and grabbed the broken watch that was identically twin object as its left one.
"Wait, he also has the watch too??"
Same size, same color pattern, and same blank screen with no number indication of it. "But it's broken so I looted it from him."
"Uh-Wow. You played this role very well I see."
"Oh Shut up or I'll blast you!" His sentence almost yelled towards the helmet. It would be lethal if people found out there were two different voices inside a single room.
"Your arrogance is ten times bigger ever since your watch got fixed. What a fortune I can sit in this comfy cushion while you're not!"
"Can you send it or not?!"
The teen heard an exasperated tone as if the person shrugged and raised his shoulders.
"Sadly I can't. This is a prison land, not a service land. And I thought you're a genius here."
He almost wanted to yank out his hair if not because of dizziness that disturbingly interrupted his head. He squeezed his eyes shut while thinking of other solutions before answering.
"Ugh... How about the guy you said from bargain store between the bridge? Ba... Baga Go? Bago Go? Can we trust him?"
"He's a dealer! Not a repairman! Also, mind I tell you again how many times I got scammed by him?"
"Well... I not asking him to find a repairman. I might ask if he had the tools to fix this." He voiced a bit lower while observing the broken closely. Searching if this one had the same problem as he had.
"You? You want to tinker it by yourself?"
"If it's more efficient for me to learn something new, why not? I don't want my genius brain to go dull the longer I'm here. Besides, I still remembered how you fixed mine, so might as well try it now. "
"...but you still can't turn it on unless powered by KoKoa radiator. Did you forget how long till it worked?"
"Proximately a month. I know that."
A silent buzz filled the room after he said it. There's a long minute pause for a while until the opponent only gave a static sigh in defeat.
"...Why are you doing this?"
"Haven't we already settled this before...? I'm not coming back until all my questions are answered."
"I know that... But even if it does. Why did you bring him along? You know there's a myth that we just stumble two percent of a chance to find a similar person in the middle of billions of people? He might not even know who you are!"
"And here I thought you hate deducting myths."
"You-Hey! I'm warning you here!"
The stuttered angry noises couldn't made his day any better than this.
"Argh! Fine! I must cut now. Do what you want while I find some information to get you out. I need you to stay alive for the next two weeks. "
"Loud and Clear, Sir Boss." For the first time in a while, the teen side lips went up, "Give my regards to P.R.O.B.E as well."
"Kheh, You take care...Solar."
And the buzzing noise stopped. The silent voice felt more dense than normal. An odd feeling erupted along the hollow sight from the moonstone eyes. Locking his object to the broken watch that he gripped tremorly.
'Solar Optical Shot!'
'Watch out-- Solar !'
The disturbing migraine increased ever since he met that teen. So whenever he sleeps, the dreams somehow add a new clip for him to assemble. Before, He heard him shouting a spell toward an unknown enemy(thus how his called himself by that name). Now, there's a scene between him, that golden eyed teen and another person who he might believe was named, Fang, hiding from a massive blast from...who knows. The scene cutted shortly when he was almost got hit behind.
Yet, it's just filled with more questions than answers. How this thing worked? How he could do what he did in that vision? Is he lightening up a flash light in his hand? Why that golden eyed teen... Wearing two... giant stone hands?
He just did not get it. At all.
How could he remember the names yet still fail to decipher their facial reveal? he completely did not comprehend what he saw in clear view.
But...
The look on that golden eyed teen after the sudden vision confirmed his suspicion. If he could remember his name by fixing his watch, it should be possible that person could do the same. The problem was the target person intentionally avoiding him several days after the meeting. He might not noticed but the teen hurriedly ran and hide whenever he arrived. It's like playing cat and mouse game which only made him harder to communicate with him. The final deep sighed escape as he looked the scattered stars across the night sky.
'Why am I doing this...?'
If he could find a way to fix this watch sooner, surely he could remember who's that kid was and both then could get out of this prison faster.
... No pressure, right?