His eyes activated.

Messy black hair was strewn atop his face in an unkempt manner. His tired yawn filled the empty space slowly being consumed by the light of the rising sun. Living in this society in his current position meant he'd to make sacrifices, especially if he wanted to keep the ones he loved protected. One of them was waking up earlier than he would've liked. Arising from his bed he stretched his hands into the air. 

His room looked the same as it always did. Bookshelves opposite his bed were stuffed with various novels and texts. A creaky ceiling fan rotated its blades. The wooden floor was as old as ever. Finally, the door directly ahead of him cracked open. Compared to the gleaming estates of the higher-ups it wasn't anything special though he didn't mind. It was home.

In a mere five minutes, he was ready to start the day. He donned his usual attire: A black jacket with a plain white shirt underneath, long dark pants, and a pair of old boots. After tending to his untamed set of hair he exited the room. Declining the noisy steps of the two-storied house an unusual smell infiltrated his nostrils. Waiting for him on the wooden kitchen table was a bowl of steaming porridge. 

This is bad. 

He preferred preparing his own food as he didn't trust others to prepare it for him . . . Unless it was his father. It wasn't that he didn't trust the person who made this meal, however, there was a rather lengthy history of his brother cooking absolute monstrosities. Quietly, he grabbed the bowl and tip-toed to a window sill nearby. Perhaps if he could dispose of the dish he wouldn't have to-

"Finally awake, are you?!" Standing behind him, a wide smile cracked on his face, was his younger brother. "And to think, you're always scolding me for my tardiness. Yet today, I made breakfast. Not the best look, Chase," Rex chuckled.

"But you still haven't come to the realization your clothes are in disarray," Chase retorted with a smirk. Like always, Rex wore the same: A sleeveless red shirt dotted with tears and long grease-stained pants accompanied by a worn-out pair of boots. His shirt revealed the sequence of black numbers imprinted on his right shoulder. Then there was his tightly tied necklace, a diamond-shaped gold pendant hanging from his neck. His attire very rarely altered, Rex adopting a style unique to him. "Sometimes I wonder if you've got a grudge against being clean."

"Very funny!" he grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Why fuss over such minute details? Who am I trying to impress, the customers? Most of them are rich nobles who live it up in the higher districts. If you ask me, they should just keep their mouths shut and pay us for all our troubles."

"Don't be ridiculous. If you go spouting off to a noble sooner or later you'll catch hell. Have you already forgotten last month's incident?"

"It wasn't my fault! That idiot had no idea how to drive a stallion! He just blamed me for doing a "bad job at fixing it" so he wouldn't be embarrassed in front of the flocks of women coddling him!"

"You think they care? In their eyes, those in the possession of power and jen rule Sanctuary. I mean, what does Dad always tell us?"

"Never look a bull lizard in the eyes?"

Rex received a smack atop his head. "Challenging the revered is a recipe for disaster. It doesn't matter who's right or wrong. As long as they're capable of buying your entire livelihood with a flick of their wrists then you should simply bite your tongue and let them get their fill of enjoyment. Although, I don't know why I'm telling you this. You'd punch a noble in the face without a second thought." 

Most survived by hiding their true self. Judgments. Feelings. Personas. Keeping them locked inside one would prevent the attraction of unwanted attention. Unfortunately, the same didn't apply to Rex. Chase knew it and so did their father. His failure to control his emotions and actions came with the detriment of him constantly getting into trouble. Whether it be an enforcer or a dissatisfied customer, Rex's uncaged personality blossomed all the same.

 "By the way, where is Dad?"

"Where do you think?" Rex walked past him and leaned against the breakfast table at the center of the room baring a frown. "He said he'd something important to do. That he was coming close to a breakthrough."

"A breakthrough you say?"

"You know how he gets. He'd spend an entire year at the lab if we weren't in the picture."

"Sounds like him," His father was a man with a lot going on in his head. They were related by blood, yes, although at times Chase felt distant. Like there was a secret he wasn't telling him. This became extremely apparent after his mother passed and even more so nine years ago. A breakthrough, huh. I wonder if this has anything to do with that night?

Chase remembered it quite vividly. He'd just been collected by his father from the daycare.

The professor took his son by the hand, Chase noticing his apparent exhaustion. Bags formed under his green eyes and his grasp felt weaker than usual. Mr. Hunt was covered in a trench coat, a business hat sitting above his spiky black hair, and tugged along a bulky briefcase in his free hand. His unbothered expression failed to conceal, however, the man's discernable slouch.

Mr. Hunt, or Matt as his fellow workers called him, was a man of great intellect. That brain of his allowed him to escape the slums. He'd clawed from a poverty filled life and established himself as a respected researcher. He worked at a lab in the middle of the district where he and his peers monitored the Outside World. They'd base data on different samples as well as changes in the climate. 

One of their main jobs was using said data to predict upcoming natural disasters. Five years ago, a nasty storm broke a few sectors of the wall in the southern districts. Nobody got hurt, fortunately. Regardless, another incident could happen in the future. This was where people like Matt came in. Despite it all, Chase knew his father better than anyone else. There was something in which he kept secret from his peers and boss. Something he couldn't speak of.

"So, how was your day?" Crowds of people walked alongside them as stallions of varying shapes and sizes populated the streets. "I've heard from your caretaker you've finished reading your fourth book this month. Impressive."

"It's not a big deal. I just spend more time reading than I probably should." a blushing Chase responded. "I'm sure the other kids would've been able to finish twice as many books if they stopped goofing off."

"Don't you enjoy playing games with them?"

"Not really. I'd much prefer to do something productive than getting all sweaty playing tag."

"I see," His son's overseer told him Chase didn't like socializing. He was a loner. A rogue. Whenever he'd arrive at the daycare Matt noticed all the kids laughing and chatting with each other. Meanwhile, Chase sulked in a corner reading a book. Some of the kids tried to befriend him but failed nonetheless. They couldn't break through the invisible barrier he placed between himself and everyone else. Matt's hope was for his son to destroy this barrier. Going through this life alone was a fate worse than death. "What books do you like to read?"

Chase paused for a moment to dwell on the question. "Books on the Outside World."

It was a touchy yet mysterious subject. The Outside World. Little was known of it. Many concluded it to be unfit for humankind. Teeming with destructive sandstorms and highly dangerous lifeforms, the realm beyond the walls was a death trap. For his son to be interested in it slightly concerned him. 

Having dreams, desires, and hopes was natural. Although, if those factors led to a person walking down a cursed path then perhaps they were better off not falling for the subductive temptation. The smile on Chase's face told Matt that he found the dangerous subject highly engaging. Like father, like son. 

Matt too considered the outside, for a lack of a better word, fascinating. What as a race had humanity yet to see? What waited for them past this dome of protection and buried underneath mountains of sand? Hopefully, one day his research could provide an answer for them both.

"Dad, I think your case is broken."

"Broken?"

Matt's heart nearly jumped out his chest as his eyes laid on the glowing briefcase, blue lights blinking repeatedly. Without thinking, he tugged on Chase's hand prior to them sprinting through the sea of strangers. Where was all this energy before, Chase wondered. It was like he'd been rejuvenated. It didn't take long for them to arrive at their house. Chase was surprised he kept up with his suddenly ecstatic father. He moved with such urgency Chase thought his arm would be yanked from its socket. 

Upon opening the door Matt slammed the case on the dinner table. This was the first time Chase clearly saw what was inside. His father always made sure to leave it in places inaccessible to him. He went as far as to tell him he wasn't allowed to see it under any circumstances. In short, the case was completely off-limits. Yet here he was revealing what it contained as if it hardly mattered.

A state of the art holopad waited inside. A square-shaped device capable of accessing The Nexus, a Sanctuary wide network of varying devices and digital technology. Though Chase never understood its science, seeing his father use it surely captivated his attention. The man typed fastly on the keys, manifesting a window on the top screen. 

The new window showed that of which Chase could only describe as being a radar of sorts. Multiple circles, the smallest at the center with each following circle increasing in size, were shown on the gleaming display. In the first circle was a dot which he assumed to be their current position. A series of waves continuously pulsated from it. 

What Matt was seemingly interested in was another dot flickering weakly. The new signature was on the edge of the last circle, barely even making its way onto the screen. Matt was completely fixated. Chase debated whether he should disturb his father, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Dad?" Matt's head turned so quickly if Chase had blinked he'd have missed the motion entirely. Those dilating eyes stared at him alluringly. "Is everything alright? You're acting strange. Did something happen at work?"

Matt slowly approached him, pulling him in for an oddly timed hug. "There are a lot of things I'd like to tell you. Things that would more than likely make you question our existence here in Sanctuary," the professor whispered. "I could tell you what I've worked on these past months. I could tell you of my true intentions behind my research. But, as your father, I know it'd be a mistake. You understand, don't you? This is my burden to bear." A bewildered Chase hesitantly nodded. "Very good. Why don't you go to your room and change out of those clothes? Dinner will be ready shortly." Chase made for the stairs, trying his best to forget the awkward conversation. What could possibly scare his father so much? Climbing the creaky wooden stairs Matt called out for him a final time. "Chase, all I can tell you is I've made a breakthrough."

". . . A breakthrough?"

"That's right. If everything goes well then things are about to change in the best ways possible for us as a family and as a race. I just need some more time to finish my research. Trust me on this."

The boy nodded his head once more. "Sure thing."

His father never mentioned this "breakthrough" since then. Not until now, at least according to Rex. If it was, in fact, the same discovery he'd made all those years ago then were things getting ready to change as he'd said? Chase couldn't help but feel excited for his father. If anyone deserved to be happy it was him.

"You should probably finish your meal, bro," Rex suggested, motioning to the bowl of porridge. "We need to get going or the boss is going to kill us."

Once again, Chase felt the warning signs in his head ring, sirens telling him should he consume the unholy concoction he'd undoubtedly regret his decision. "I suppose you wouldn't believe me if I said I wasn't hungry."

"Come on, do you think my cooking sucks that badly?!"

"I'd be lying if I answered with a "yes"." He sat down at the table and picked up the metal spoon resting next to the bowl. "But if I don't have anything to eat I won't last long. I'm afraid I don't have much of a choice in the matter, do I?"

"Not really, no."

"Oh boy."

Having lost the battle he accepted his fate. The bowl of steaming hot porridge bubbled in his face. He sighed while plunging the spoon into the liquidy meal, it's head sinking in like quicksand. Chase held it in front of him. Whether he enjoyed it or not he needed to have some form of nourishment before his busy schedule commenced. Besides, how bad could it possibly be? He closed his eyes as he stuck the spoon into his mouth, awaiting the horrors to assault his taste buds.

Bottoms up.