August 2nd, 2030, 8:12 am                                          

I saw Celestine this morning before the Captain, which isn't a good sign at all. I mean, I'm sure he's fine, but he hasn't been here for a whole day. The ranking is in ten days, and all I know is how to run two miles. I need to know how to fight, and shoot, and all that other shit. Would I be able to teach myself?

It doesn't help that I only got about three hours of sleep last night. I couldn't stop thinking about that guy, Roarke. I had so many questions that I needed him to answer, but in the moment, I was too scared to ask. He was teleporting all over the place, and he just kept telling me about his dumb cult or whatever. Not to mention, the fact that I still have this crazy mark on my arm is really unsettling.

So, all this time, he was watching me. He saw me run from those Imperial Guard guys the night I was arrested, and his own men in the forest the next night. Then, yesterday, I saw the mark on the side of the lighthouse, and his voice following me as I sprinted away. Oh, man, now I really hope he isn't going to come after me since I told him his club was insane. The last thing I need is a guy who can teleport trying to kill me.

I grab the TV remote and launch myself onto the sofa. I haven't watched TV in months, if you don't count the times that I've watched through someone's window or a store. That was probably for the best, considering it might've been all about me. Now that I'm not a fugitive anymore, I wonder what kind of news Oltima has to share these days.

As soon as the TV is completely on, a woman with puffy, curly hair appears on the screen. It looks like she's being interviewed on the sidewalk in Frayton. Her eyes are slowly becoming pink, and the color in her cheeks is flushing out. I turn up the volume and set the remote beside me.

"He never even told me where he was going. I heard him wake up in the middle of the night, and I thought he was just getting up to go the the kitchen or something. He didn't even say goodbye to the kids." The woman wipes her eye with the knuckle of her index finger. "He never seemed depressed or anything. He was always so happy."

The screen then cuts away to an image of a man, probably the one the woman was just talking about. A voice says, "Richard is just one of the many missing people in the past month. If you see this man, please contact your local authorities immediately."

The news anchor appears, staring endlessly into the camera. "We are awaiting a statement from the Imperial Guard in West Bluefield. As you know, there have been approximately one hundred disappearances in Queen's City alone. The number from the other four regions are staggering as well. The Empire looks to the Imperial Guard for answers."

Sudden footsteps behind me force me to swivel my head around to the kitchen. Celestine stands there, holding her toothbrush by her mouth. "Why does the Imperial Guard need to say anything? Who the fuck wants to run away to them?"

I laugh softly. "I think people are just wondering what the Guard is doing about it. I haven't heard about this until now, so I have no idea."

She continues to brush her teeth and I turn back to the TV. The scene has now shifted to a man behind a podium in a sharp, black uniform. This must be the conference with the Imperial Guard that the news station was waiting for. The guy speaking looks like he hasn't slept in a week. Couldn't they get someone else to talk?

"Look, there's my dad, on the right," Celestine muffles with a mouth full of toothpaste.

The Captain stands behind the speaker in a white button-down and black tie, alongside another Guard in a black uniform. He is the only officer not wearing the matching attire, so I wonder for what reason. The shorter Guard beside him says something, causing the Captain to shake his head.

The speaker's name, Admiral Harrison Regall, presents itself on a banner at the bottom of the screen. "These disappearances are completely unprecedented," He explains, blinking multiple times. "It is not much help to us that not a single one of these missing people have been found either. We've been searching desperately for a sign from any of them, but we've come up empty-handed."

Before another question can be asked by the press, Regall steps down, and the Captain approaches the podium with only a bit more energy than the Admiral. Celestine sits down on the loveseat without her toothbrush and snorts. "Damn, he looks like death." He doesn't look as bad as Regall, but exhausted nonetheless.

"We've just received word from the Meadowlands that one of our missing citizens has been found dead in the hills north of the capital. An autopsy is currently being conducted and we will release what we can as soon as we hear the results. Hopefully, this information can lead us to a start on what is happening with all these disappearances." The Captain pauses, probably listening to a question from the crowd. I can't hear what they ask.

"We have no reason to believe that these vanishings aren't all connected in some way. There have never been this many disappearances in such a short period of time in the entire history of our Empire." He stops again, and looks to his right.

"Well, as of right now-"

The man he stood next to before speaking motions for him to step off the podium and talk to him. I can see his lips moving, but I can't make out what he's saying. He opens a folder and shows the Captain its contents. Manchester turns back to the press with the folder, his face entirely pale. He walks up to the podium a second time.

"We have been given the results of the autopsy of the man found in the Meadowlands. Fingerprints on the neck and a damaged trachea show that the cause of death was suffocation by an unidentified attacker. He has no other external wounds, besides a, uh," The Captain stutters, and glances right into the camera ahead. "The letter M, seemingly carved into the skin of his left forearm."

My body seizes entirely.

With my shaking right hand, I pick up the remote and switch off the TV. I stare into its infinite blackness, and don't even consider peeking down at the scar. The world is silent. The birds stop tweeting outside the sliding door, and the wind dies down in an instant.

"Why did you turn it off? Don't you want to hear what happened to that guy?" Celestine asks, slightly irritated.

I don't move my gaze an inch. "Can I tell you something if you promise you won't tell anyone?" I sit up on the sofa and hold out my left arm, revealing the mark. I don't even want to look up at her to see her reaction. My face gets hot, realizing that she might've just pieced it all together.

"So," she begins, exhaling heavily, "are you, like, on their kill list? Whoever they are. What did you do to get that?"

"I hope not," I sigh. That may be probable, considering how angry Roarke was when I rejected him. "I'll keep an eye out, though. And," I weigh out her second question, about what I did to deserve this scar. "It was given to me, by a man. One that is, well, different, for lack of a better word."

Celestine's eyes widen. "What do you mean by different?"

"This is going to sound really weird to you, so I don't know if-"

"Slater," She giggles, "I doubt it's that weird. Just tell me."

I trace my fingers over the scar, still contemplating whether I should tell her or not. "His name is Rodney Roarke, and he's the leader of some crazy group of murderers called the Medo, or something. He can disappear and reappear whenever he wants. I saw it myself."

As I expected, she laughs again. "So, he can teleport? That's funny."

"I'm serious, Celestine."

"Right." She rolls her eyes. Of course she wouldn't believe me.

So, Roarke had his men kill some poor guy from the Meadowlands. Did he have the mark before he was murdered, or was he a part of the Medo? I wonder if he, like that kid, Ivan, refused to assassinate his family, so he was killed. That makes me consider if Roarke will force me to kill my mom, then find my dad and kill him, too. If a man can transport himself from one side of the room to the other in mere milliseconds, then such an idea wouldn't be so imaginary.

Is it wrong that I'm comparing the Medo and Imperial Guard to see which one is worse? I mean, on one side, you have wacko forest people who kill for sport and have weird powers, and the other claims to have good intentions, but are also apparently really shady. With the Guard, you're part of the most powerful military in the known world. If everyone in the Medo has the same powers that Roarke does, then I want in, no questions asked. Is that bad?

"Are you ready for the ranking? It's in ten days." Celestine asks, sincerely.

I shake my head deliberately. "Not at all. It doesn't help that your dad has hardly done anything to prepare me, you know."

"Well, I'm going to let you in on a little secret," She leans into the space between us. "This whole training thing is bullshit. Basically, if you're physically fit, you'll make it just fine. The only real problem is the tactical learning and the information for the intelligence test." She holds up her index, middle, and ring finger, and adds, "There are three tests, one of them not really a huge part, and the other has multiple sections. My brother told me all about it after his ranking."

She wiggles her index finger. "The big test is the endurance and agility one, and it is the last test you take for that reason. There is a combat tournament, a two-mile run, and a game of capture the flag."

"Capture the flag? What is this, gym class?" I question, folding my arms.

"It's not like any other game that you've played before, trust me." Celestine points to her middle finger. "Before these tests, you have the written, mental trials. You are given two scenarios, and you must write a report on how you will deal with the situations. That's where you have to pay attention in the classes. And I forget the last one, but I know that it isn't that important, yet you can gain leverage over others if you complete it."

Wait, so, other than the combat tournament and the run, there is nothing that I need to train for? What the hell am I still doing here? This is such bullshit.

I rise up from the couch and start toward the foyer. Celestine grabs my arm and yanks me back. "Where the hell are you going?"

"Don't you get it, Celeste? There's no reason for me to be here. If all I need to know what to do is run and defend myself, then there is no point in me staying at your house. I can do that just about anywhere else." I shrug her off and continue to the front of the house.

"Do you want me to help you?"

I stop right by the staircase and turn around to her, standing in the kitchen. Her body is tense, but shaking ever so slightly. She lets her messy hair fall in her face as she looks back at me with helpless eyes.

Celestine approaches me with caution, as if my old self is going to lash out at her. "Look, I get that you're angry about this training thing because you think that it's worthless. I'd be pissed off, too. But if you don't think that my dad can help you, then I might be able to. I've had friends go off and join the Guard, and tell me all that they learned. I've had a brother go through the process, and my dad is even the Captain. I know the tests, Slater. I know what you need to know. If you'll just give me a chance, I can help you."

"I don't even know if I want to stay with the Guard. It's not like I have a choice, but still. I just don't know if I can do it." I admit, hanging my head.

"Slater, my friends have gone off to the Imperial Guard and have become better people. I understand that you distrust them because of the situation with your dad. But you need to give them a chance. I don't know how many times you've heard this, but I'll be the next to say it. The Imperial Guard is watching you, since the OLC was used so suddenly. They need to make sure that you're the one. And if you seriously need any help with proving all of those other asshole Colonels wrong, you let me know. I hate all four of them."

I smile, recognizing her dedication. "Sure, then. I need help."

"Good, I'm glad you said so." She begins backtracking to the living room. "We should finish watching the press conference, just to see what happened to that guy up north."

We reset our positions on the couches and I switch the TV back on. The Captain is still speaking to the press, but he appears to be far more restless than when we left him five minutes ago. I wonder if someone said something that set him off.

"I do not wish to repeat myself, ma'am. This is the third time this question has been asked, and the answer remains the same. The Imperial Guard is attempting to further investigate the death of Mr. Jennings and is trying to tag any motives. Right now, we have no leads, except for, perhaps, the tattoo on his arm." I can see him strain himself to mention Roarke's mark. He probably remembers our altercation about it yesterday.

After listening to a journalist on the floor, I see the Captain raise an eyebrow. "The Medo?"

"Wow," Celestine remarks, "you weren't kidding."

That's impossible. How does anyone else know about those psychos? That must be a sign, considering a high officer in the Imperial Guard has no idea who they are.

The Captain pivots to his right, and another man in an Imperial Guard uniform is trudging toward the podium. Manchester steps down and allows the new Guard to replace him. The crowd immediately springs to life with, seemingly, a million raised hands. The speaker points to the mass and listens intently.

Celestine shakes her head, disdainfully. "Jameson. I don't understand how my dad likes him. Or any of the Colonels, for that matter."

"I guess he has to, if he wants to keep his job." I reply, digging my body further into the couch. 

"That's one of the things you have to know to graduate as a full-time Guard. You need to know the names of the General, the five Colonels, and the top five officers in your region. You also need to know the five regions, their capitals, and facts about your own region. My friend knew these things like the back of his hand, but he said that there were people who had no idea."

"Aren't those things, like, common sense?"

"You'd think so, right?"

Colonel Jameson raises a piece of paper, with a photo of the mark on the arm of the victim. Cameras flash instantly, obscuring vision of the picture. "This is the aforementioned tattoo found on Mr. Jennings. It depicts the letter M in large, black font. As Colonel of the Meadowlands, I can certainly say that we have no relation with this brand and will investigate this immediately. This could lead us to finding the other missing citizens of our Empire. Until any new information is gained, we do not wish to discuss this matter any further."

The crowd erupts with pleas and questions, but Jameson steps off of the podium and exits the camera shot. The Captain, Regall, and the other nameless Guard walk off the stage. When the scene returns to the news anchor, I grab the remote and switch off the TV.

Celestine turns to me. "So, do you think it was the Medo?"

I clench my jaw, staring into the black screen. "No doubt."