Dark.

A soft whisper. "Grace? Can you hear me?"

I couldn't feel my body. My breath accelerated. Calm down, I ordered to myself. I tried to summon my senses and mentally call out every limb of my body.

The voice continued. "Honey, if you are listening, try to look at me."

It was as if my physical body had gone far away, leaving behind and alone, only my conciseness in the void. A tingle grew through the pours of my skin. I was coming back. Slowly.

I tried to open my eyes. Damn, they hurt a lot, almost as much as the day I was challenged to stare at the sun during the forbidden hour. I nearly went blind; thank God Michael was there. He cried and shouted and literally forced me to give up before my corneas melted. I saw blurry for two weeks.

"Where am I?" I said.

A shiny light blinded me for a moment until my eyes managed to adjust the view. An old woman in a white gown stood beside me.

"There you are! This is the Reg hospital for immigration. Your recovery treatment has just ended." She said glancing at a monitor on my left.

I tried to sit in, but my returned legs, arms, and head sent me a prick of pain. Thanks, body, thanks.

"Recovery treatment? I feel like shit."

The woman's eyes widened in shock. "What a language... Is that how you talk on The Other Side?" She said tapping away at another monitor on my right.

"This is how someone in pain talks."

The woman stopped and looked at me while sending a polite and at the same time, very artificial smile. Then she adjusted a tube I had connected with a needle on my left wrist. She pressed it.

"Ouch!" I mutter. She didn't even blink but smiled. Creep.

"The recovery treatment lasted for three days, so feeling some discomfort is normal. You haven't moved since you arrived, but trust me, your leg and head look much better now."

I knew about recovery treatments, how advancements in data had led to personalized medical care. But knowing didn't make the pain any easier.

"Okay, so can I leave now?" I asked.

The old woman laughed hard as If I had said the funniest joke in the world. I wondered if she was mentally okay.

"Where in God's name would you want to go, honey?" She said playing with the clearly fake stethoscope that hung around her neck. She tapped it softly with her also fake nails, which were long and painted in silver. What an original color, right?

"Why do you wear that? It's not real." I said pointing at the stethoscope.

"You're such a smarty, aren't you?" She said, refilling a glass of water I had on the little white table next to the monitor.

"My dad was a doctor." I stated.

"A doctor? Wow." That wow seemed even more fake than her nails. "Here we don't need many things you do on The Other Side. But we wear them anyway, so you don't feel so lost when you get here." She explained.

Get here. HERE. A Frenzy. A hit. And it all came back to me. Memories crashed over like a tidal wave, and my heart raced. "Michael." I whispered.

The old woman frowned. "What did you just say?"

"I have to go." I leaped from the bed, my right hand pulling the needle out of my wrist. A splatter of blood flew. The old woman didn't have time to stop me and I ran. No idea where. No idea how. But I had to find Michael.

"Hey! You cannot leave!" She shouted.

Flashes of the attack at the border burst in my brain just like the bomb that shattered everything. The images snatch at each other, composing a painful puzzle, a picture I didn't want to look at, much less accept. No. No way.

I rushed into a long hallway, hearing the nurse following me. Suddenly, my legs shook, they were about to give way.

"No!" I tried to force it. Come on. There was an open door at the end of the corridor. If I could just get there. Just a few steps, but I stumbled.

My legs felt like weak spaghetti, slippery jelly, unnatural and alien. The sensation was so anguishing that I wanted to vomit. What had they done to me? I collapsed on the ground. The old woman and another nurse quickly reached me.

"Are you out of your mind?!" She tried to control her tone but well, again, fake emotion.

"You don't understand. I need to find my brother." I said and I realized I was shaking as if an earthquake was taking place in my lungs and wanted to come out from my mouth. They grabbed me, their hands cold like death.

"You'll find him once you're ready to go." She said and felt her fake nails stitched my skin.

They brought me back to my bed and I couldn't resist. The air barely passed the earthquake in my lungs.

"I'm sure your brother will be okay." The old woman said trying to calm me down.

"No, I lost him at the border. I don't know where he is." I didn't want to cry in front of them. But a treacherous tear formed in my eyelid. I wiped it fast. The woman looked at me with pity and this time that emotion seemed real.

I took a deep breath and an image sparkled through my mind as a revelation. A wolf. A blue-eyed wolf. No. A woman. A blue-eyed woman. She told me her name. Shit. I couldn't remember.

I gripped the nurse's arm tightly. "I need to talk to a Narval Officer."

"Woha!" She said while breaking free from my grip. "It's good to see you're regaining your strength, young lady." She said returning my hand to the bed. "However, you can't speak to any Narval Officer right now. Try to get some rest, and we'll talk in a few hours."

She injected something into the tube connected to my arm. "What is this?" I asked.

"A painkiller. You said you were feeling bad, didn't you?" Again that fake smile.

A sudden clarity struck me. "Heather! I need to speak with Heather Anderson!" Her name felt like a lifeline.

The woman looked intrigued. "How do you know her name?"

"Um... I kind of know her?" Not sure if admitting that was wise.

"Alright, either way, there's no way you can meet her. The Lead of the border is extremely busy. There has been a lot going on there lately."

So she was the Border Lead. Got it. That made sense.

"Well, I must go. There are many other patients to attend to. Press the red button if you need anything." And with that, she left.

I stared at the ceiling for a while. I needed to order my thoughts, or my mind would explode like that old washing machine Michael and I found in a dump. We tried to use it, and it basically vomited our clothes, exploding in a tsunami of brown and smelly juice.

So, Heather was the Border Lead, of course. She had those unbearable, katana-blue eyes that looked like they could kill a bunch of baby cats if needed to protect the border. No joke. As much as I hated it, I needed to find her. That was for sure. Maybe she would know where Michael was, and if she didn't know, at least I would make sure to get my revenge for what she had done.

The painkiller was doing its job, and in a few minutes, I fell into a deep sleep. In my dream, I saw Michael's face filled with confusion and fear. I heard the screams of the people and the buzzing of the drones. And there she was, Heather and her penetrating voice: "Prepare the gates for closure."

Dark.

"Time to wake up, you sleepyhead." The old woman again.

"What time is it?"

"It's ten am. You've slept a lot!" She clapped as If I was a five-year-old who had tied up her shoes for the first time.

"You're so lucky, young lady! So, so lucky!"

I rolled my eyes. Seriously, what was up with this woman's emotions?

"What are you talking about?" I said.

She smiled at me, of course. "The assignment procedure will start today. A few people are waiting outside the room to inform you about it."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

The woman's smile was so wide that I thought it might stretch off her face.

"It means they have analyzed your profile, and they will inform you about your assignment. Congratulations, honey. You'll be very happy."

I had heard about it before, although I never knew if it was true. Apparently, it was. Great, I guess. We, the outsiders, weren't that badly informed after all. The deal was that once you crossed the gates, they would analyze your data and determine the perfect job for you, although it was probably the perfect job for them. But anyway, whether you liked it or not, you were forced to do it. That's how things worked at the Reg Society.

"Well, if you don't mind, I'll let them in." The old woman opened the door, and two men came in, followed by a woman. Just a brief look and I knew who she was.

Prepare the gates for closure. It echoed in my mind. The Narval Officer who refused to help my brother, the reason why I was there alone, the culprit of my washing machine mind: Heather. I hated to remember her name. I wouldn't forget it now. I never forgot the people I despised. My body boiled, and I wondered if it was the fever or the anger. I glared at her, but she showed no emotion in return. How would she? Her eyes, now even more blue under the fluorescent light, met mine with a serious, relaxed gaze as if she had never seen me before. As if she hadn't pushed me to the ground and twisted my arm while I was screaming in pain. Not a tiny gleam of those painful memories reflected in her wolf eyes.

One of the officers took out a digital device and began reading. "Miss Grace Hayes, welcome to the Reg Society. Your transfer has been successful, and you are now a legal citizen. By law, all immigrants must occupy their assigned spot, which is the best possible spot. Your analysis has been completed, and your new role in this society has been determined. You'll receive a home, and a job, and in your case, you will retain your name. This assignment has been made by the data science team of the Reg Society and is irreversible. We expect you to fulfill your duty and contribute to the building of a new world."

Heather's gaze remained fixed on the floor as if lost in her thoughts. The cut on her lip was almost healed; only a thin scar remained, probably as slender as her regrets for what she had done.

The man continued reading. "Having said that, we are pleased to announce that after careful analysis of your data, we have determined that your place in this society is to become a Narval Officer."

"Wait, what!?" I exclaimed, shocked.

Heather snapped out of her reverie and looked at me. The man paused briefly due my interruption and then resumed reading. "You will be relocated to the Narval House, where you'll be trained to fulfill one of the most crucial roles in the Reg society: The protection of the border. Now, receive the Reg bracelet, and with it on your wrist, you will officially become one of us."

The other officer took out a box and opened it. Silver, shiny, resembling a digital watch, but ha, it was much more than that. The Reg Bracelet. That little device was the seed of all the events that had unfolded in the world over the past century.

It was surreal. The officer tied the Reg Bracelet in my wrist and I just couldn't utter any word. It was funny remembering how it all started. They were just regular smartwatches once, you know? Counting steps, monitoring heart rate, and measuring blood pressure. Harmless right?

But soon, they evolved, of course, and many other functions were added. They could monitor your physical strength, stress levels, and any diseases you might have. At first, everyone saw it as something positive that could make life easier, and in a few years, everyone had one of those devices. Because who wouldn't want to know if, according to your data, today was better to avoid a major financial decision, whether it was the right time to start a family, or if it was safer to take an alternate route home to avoid potential accidents?

What nobody expected was that those watches would predict negative outcomes without any easy alternative or solution. Ah, plot twist, right? The data nobody anticipated: the effects of climate change, viruses, and premature deaths. And what followed that? Chaos. Frenzy. A social crisis. Fear and confusion were the perfect ingredients for the birth of a radical group known as Reg Society. Then a war, a wall, and here we are. Divided. On one side, the world is dying, and on the other, people are living immersed in tech and data. Choose your warrior. Ah, sorry for the lame jokes. It comes from my dad. Rest in peace, Dad.

I gazed at the bracelet, I never thought I would be wearing one of those.

"I don't want to be a Narval Officer."

Heather closed her eyes in exasperation as if she had known that would happen. One of the soldiers stepped forward. "Miss Hayes, you have no choice. The law of the Reg society compels you to fulfill your new assignment. Let me remind you that if you refuse, you will undergo the reset procedure."

"I don't give a shit." I said, so calm it actually sounded even stronger.

"You'll come with me." Heather said, which was a statement, not a suggestion.

"I don't want to go anywhere with you, assassin!" I shouted.

"Hey, watch your words!" One of the officers warned.

Heather stood her hand gesturing to the officer to calm down. "I think we need a moment."

The other soldier gasped. "We can't waste more time here. If she refuses to accept her role, we must take her. We have many other assignments to attend to."

Heather stepped forward to my bed. "She will comply. I'll make sure of it. You can go and continue with your tasks. I'll handle it from here."

Both men nodded to Heather and left the room. I kept my gaze fixed on her as if by doing that I could win whatever invisible battle was going on between us.

She held the protective bar of the bed and observed me in a slicing silence, in an unsettling serenity.

I couldn't help it and spoke first. "I'm genuinely curious. Come on, tell me, how do you plan to force me to work for you? Do you even remember me, or have you been brainwashed since that day?"

Heather's face twitched with anger. "You." A pause. "Watch. Your. Words."

A chill sliced through me, turning my thin skin to brittle ice. God, that woman.

She continued. "Do you have any idea what the reset procedure is? They will wipe your memory as if you were an insignificant hard drive. You'll lose your name, your experiences, the people you love... and you'll become an empty vessel. They will use you as they please, you'll be an unknowing slave."

My blood ran cold, my bones felt like they were trembling, and my head spun. "And yes, I know who you are. I saved your life once, and now I'm doing it again. So, consider yourself lucky and keep your mouth shut."

Her eyes seemed to blaze. Blue eyes blazing, how odd is ha? I gritted my teeth, a reflex when I was about to give in. Damn it, she had a point. Maybe the best move was to play along; it might improve my chances of finding my brother, Michael. What other choice did I have? The thought of facing that "reset" she mentioned was enough to make my skin crawl.

"Fine, I'll go."

A faint smirk crossed her lips. "Smart choice."

Author's Note:

Hey there! Thanks for reading Chapter 2!💕

I'm curious to hear your thoughts on the "Reg Bracelets." Do you think something like this could be invented in the future? What's your take on the idea?

Love you all!💖

Ava💫