The Outsiders remained silent, as if their voices had been stolen. I remembered that static scene so vividly, it was a defining moment for each of us, watching the gates open. For someone who had grown up hearing all kinds of stories about the wall, and the mysterious world beyond it, that moment shook you to your core.

I had imagined this moment. I knew it would throw me off a bit. I thought I was ready. However, their eyes, sharp as arrows, pierced through me and shattered my fragile confidence, as easily as ripping a dead flower from the ground. The uniform I wore, the badge that symbolized my power, now felt like nothing more than props in a play I wasn't ready to perform.

The crowd was a mosaic of people in every state imaginable. Thin, pale men; rosy-skinned women; and dirty-faced children, some hiding behind adults, others standing alone, as though nothing could scare them anymore. You could easily tell who came from the northern towns and who hailed from the south, it was written all over their bodies. Northerners were taller, with less hair, thin noses (especially the men), and big brown eyes, like mine. Southerners, on the other hand, were a whole other story. Their skin was darker, the result of the exposure to the sun, and their eyes smaller, with shorter frames in general.

It was also interesting to see how they dressed. Northerners, who knew what real cold looked like, wore fewer layers but knew exactly how to make coats that could stand up to the harsh winds. Southerners, on the other hand, were bundled up in animal skins that weren't much help when it came to surviving a real chill.

However, no matter the differences, there was one thing that united them all: the look of expectation, the hope, the fear in their eyes, the desperate wish that moment would be the solution to all their problems, even as they felt like they were standing at the edge of a great abyss, ready to leap. And I knew that leap so well.

"You okay?" Heather whispered.

I nodded. Liar.

"Hello, everyone, and thanks for coming. Today, we're going to transfer some of you." She said exactly the same thing she told me back on the day I crossed.

People started to complain. Not really unexpected.

Heather looked at me. "Hey, you'll have to patrol for a while through the lines as Lea and I start to transfer people, okay? Just maintain order with your presence."

I nodded and walked among the people. It felt so strange seeing their reactions as I passed. Some avoided my gaze, others observed my clothing with curiosity, but many appeared frightened. I never thought I would ever scare anyone in my entire life.

I couldn't help but feel a painful punch in my heart every time I spotted a dark-haired young man. My subconscious just wanted to see Michael.

"You are new, aren't you?" A voice from the line came to me. I turned around and saw an old man, maybe in his seventies with a white right eye and a jacket full of holes.

"You are indeed." He confirmed to himself.

I didn't say anything and kept walking, but he stopped me by holding my arm.

"Hey, I need to cross today. Can you help me? My daughter has been inside since... I can't even remember since when. I really need to cross." He explained.

"You wait here until you are called." I said, trying to sound authoritative.

"Okay, but could you be the person who lets me in?" He asked.

"You have to wait here. Please, leave my arm." His grip was firm, but the man didn't seem ready to give up yet.

"Please, I don't like those two over there," he said, looking at Heather and Lea, who had already started to transfer some lines of people.

"Let go of my arm, sir," I insisted. My tone turned harsher, causing his eyes to drop to the laser gun on my belt. Fear crossed his face in an instant, and he finally released his grip.

"Sorry... and thanks for your help." He lowered her gaze to the floor and moved back to his place.

Meanwhile, the lines were being transferred quite peacefully.

"The red color!" Heather shouted, and one of the queues started moving toward her.

"The white color!" Lea said after.

I noticed that the white-colored group was being treated differently from the others. Lea sent the white-colored people to wait on the left, while the others were directed to the right. Why would they do that? The list of questions I had from that day kept growing bigger and bigger as time went by.

"The orange color," Heather said, and the line where the old man stood began to move. It was kind of reliving to see how glad everyone was when they finally crossed. At least, I thought, not everything about this process was terrible.

Heather made me a sign, and I returned to where she was. "Can you make sure they stay together over there?" She pointed to the white group that had already been transferred.

"Sure."

I moved toward the group and stood right in front of them, like a shepherd dog guarding her sheep.

Lea and Heather stayed by the front gates, a few meters apart. Eventually, the elderly man who had spoken to me made his way over to Heather. He scratched the back of his head nervously and his eyes flickered around.

"Name?" Heather asked him.

"Neil Thomson."

"Neil Thomson?" Her tone laced with skepticism, as she verified it on her digital device. A moment later a message came through our earpieces.

It was Christina from the selection department.

"Hey, officers, the man with the white eye is not Neil Thomson; the drone has identified him as an impostor."

We all received the same message. My body tensed, but I tried to keep my cool. Heather, on the other hand, didn't flinch—not even a blink. She stood perfectly still as if the revelation were no more significant than a passing breeze. Then, she turned her gaze on him. That icy glare of her could have frozen fire.

"You are not Neil," she said, her voice sharp as a blade but calm, so unsettlingly calm. Get out of here."

The old man was so shocked that, when he tried to speak, his words stumbled over themselves, failing to form anything intelligible. Heather waited for a moment, her glare unyielding, the kind that could make anyone break into a sweat.

Finally, the man managed to say something. "I am Neil! I swear! Please, I need to get in!" He pleaded desperately.

Heather stepped to the side, to let space to the next person and didn't even looked at him once more.

"Next." She said.

The man interposed between Heather and the upcoming person. "No, please. I need to cross! I have to find my daughter, please! I beg you. I'm an old man!"

"Get out of here." Heather repeated.

But the man didn't listen. Instead,, he turned to a young woman behind him, "Hey, you, tell the officer who I am. You know me. Tell her I'm Neil, please!"

The young woman glanced at him, then at Heather, and finally at the floor. Her lower lip quivered, and her breathing quickened. She wasn't going to say a word.

"If you don't leave right now, the drone will take care of you." Heather said.

The man spun around, and for a moment, it seemed he had finally given up. Heather continued transferring to the next person when, without warning, the old man came back. He pulled a small knife from his jacket and lunged at her.

Damn it. No, no, no.

Despite the surprise, Heather managed to hold him back for a few seconds, grappling with him as panic-stricken screams echoed through the gates. My body froze and I felt the adrenalin bubble up in my veins.

Lea ran toward them, but she wasn't fast enough. Heather's grip slipped. The knife plunged into her stomach. She collapsed to the ground, wincing in pain, her hands instinctively pressing against the wound. Blood began to seep through her fingers in dark, thin lines.

The man didn't stop. He shoved through the gates and charged straight at me.

"Stop him!" Lea shouted me.

The man hurried toward me as fast as his legs would carry him, his gaze filled with nothing but panic and desperation. It would have been easy to stop him, he was old and didn't seem very strong. But an ache in my chest made me feel weak and hesitant.

"Let me pass, please, let me pass," he shouted incessantly as he approached.

I stepped in his path and grabbed him. He tried to escape, but once he saw he wasn't strong enough, he clenched my shirt with his fists full of frustration, wrinkling my uniform.

"They never call me, I've been waiting for years, they never call me, I need to see my daughter," he shouted at me through tears.

The shattered confidence I'd felt earlier? Now, I needed it more than ever. My fists weren't going to hold him. I could feel it, something inside me screamed that I was doing something wrong. The man saw my hesitation, and with a final burst of strength, he shoved me aside and kept running.

Suddenly, a shot. Birds scattered. A collective gasp filled the entire atmosphere. The man fell to the floor. I turned towards the source of the noise. Lea had fired her laser gun, hitting the man.

Then, I heard him whimpering; he was still alive. I rushed to him and saw that his leg was bleeding. I examined the wound; the laser had passed through his ankle.

"You'll be okay, just wait." I said as I applied pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding. My gaze darted back to Heather, her face etched with pain. Lea was helping her stand while she covered her stomach with her hand.

The gates started to close. "We'll have to pause the transfer for a moment," Lea announced to the hundreds of people gathered outside.

Laura hurried over with a medical kit. The man continued to cry.

"Can you stay with him?" I asked Laura.

"Sure... Where are you going?" She asked, confused.

"I'll be back in a moment." I didn't dare say that I was just so damn worried about Heather. But I forgot how easy I was to read.

"You want to see her, huh?" She said, kind of annoyed.

"Come on, Laura, not now."

"It's ok. Go." She said while opening the medical kit and starting to cure the man's leg.

Lea had led Heather inside the control station, where I found her seated in a chair, her head tilted back, eyes closed, and her hands pressed against the wound.

"Hey, are you okay?" I asked, trying to sound professional but deep inside I was so damn scared.

"It's nothing, really." She said, but her face told a different story.

Lea moved up and down the room like a caged animal. "Shit, shit, shit," She said, opening a cabinet and taking out a medical kit. "I have to inform you about what happened. Shit. We don't have time." Then she realized I was there too.

"You, do something useful for once." Lea shoved the metallic medical kit into my hands. "I'll be back in a minute." She stormed out of the room, cursing the world under her breath.

Heather rolled her eyes as if to say Lea was overreacting. I stepped toward her and looked down at her wound.

"Change that face. I'm fine." She said. 

"That cold sweat on your forehead," I pointed out, "and this heavy breathing of yours is telling me a different story."

"My body's overreacting. I've gone through much worse."

I sighed. "Stop acting so tough and let me take a look." I kneeled in front of her and moved her bloody hand away from the wound. "I'm going to have to cut this," I said, gesturing to her Narval shirt.

She raised an eyebrow and smirked. "You just want an excuse to take my clothes off."

"Heather!" I said.

"What? It's not like I'm complaining..."

She was all over that cold sweat, in pain, and yet there she was, getting flirtatious with me.

"You're unbelievable," I said, opening the medical kit and pulling out scissors. "Now, please, keep your flirting mouth shut for a moment and stay still. I'm trying to save you here."

I carefully cut away the part of her shirt covering the wound. Then I started cleaning the wound and her body flinched at every touch.

"I'm sorry." I said. "I know this hurts."

"It's okay. Just make it quick." She took a long breath and let it out.

Once I had cleaned the wound, I realized the metal implant she had on her ribs had stopped the knife. What could have been a deeply damaging cut was actually just an ugly scratch.

"Whoa," I whistled. "You're incredibly lucky. That metal implant of yours just earned my full respect."

"Why?" she asked, gazing down. When she saw it, a long breath of relief escaped her lips. "Finally, it's good for something."

"I'm going to apply some antibacterial spray and regenerating skin cream here," I said. "It might feel a little cold."

"Alright, doctor, I'm in your hands." She flashed me a smile.

Once I was done I realized despite not being a very profound cut. It needed some kind of stitches.

"I don't think you'll need to go to the hospital but I need to seal the wound," I said, pulling out the skin-sealing pistol from the medical kit.

"Damn it. I hate that thing." She grimaced.

"Yeah... I'm sorry. It hurts like hell."

"It's okay, just do it."

I nodded and positioned the skin-sealing pistol carefully over the wound. Heather winced as I got closer, but I could tell she was trying to brace herself.

"Alright," I said, trying to sound reassuring, "this is gonna sting a bit, but it'll be over fast."

She didn't respond right away, just focused on the ceiling. I could see her trying to stay tough, but her body tensed the second the device made contact with her skin. The pistol hummed, the red light turned on and Heather's body flinched, although not a sound escaped her mouth.

"Done." I said, removing it and checking the result. The skin was red and warm, but the cut was sealed. She let out a soft breath and slowly opened her eyes.

"Why are you so good at this?" She asked.

"It's not that impressive. Anyone would've done the same. Besides, I took classes here, remember?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't explain your instinct and the extra care you took. Did you see Lea just handing me over to you and leaving? No matter how much training you've had, either you're made for this or you're not."

"Well... maybe I've got a bit of an edge because my dad was a doctor." I said. "At least he was a doctor on The Other Side."

"So you grew up stitching people's skin, then?" She asked.

"Not exactly like that," I said, putting the skin-sealing pistol and the rest of the equipment back into the medical kit. "But I did learn how to act fast with injuries, not panic over blood, and, most importantly, how to stay calm, be caring, and make others feel secure while I take care of them." I closed the medical kit, and when I looked up, I found those blue eyes staring at me, with a spark of... I wasn't sure what. Admiration?

I didn't have time to think about it further, because as soon as I blinked, she grabbed me and pulled me toward her, crashing her lips into mine. Okay, maybe I didn't need to guess what that spark meant. Her lips were way more interesting than the mystery behind her eyes.

When she pulled away, I felt like I needed to land back in reality, as if I had been swept out of the world entirely and was now waking up from a long, dizzying trance.

"What a way to start your first day at the border, right?" She said.

"Yeah... Seems like I'm a magnet for chaos."

"I'm on the front line; incidents like this happen from time to time. You'll have to get used to it." She said.

"You mean, used to this?" I gave her another kiss.

She smiled. "Maybe..." Another kiss. "You're handling pretty well for being your first day."

"Thank you, but I don't understand... That man..." I trailed off. "He was desperate to cross, he wanted to see his daughter. Why hadn't he been called before?"

Heather's expression shifted, a flicker of something I couldn't quite place crossing her face before she sighed deeply. "We know him. This isn't the first time he's tried this. The story about his daughter is a lie. You'll come to learn that not everyone is a friendly face, even if they come from The Other Side."

I let her words sink in as she stood up from the chair in an abrupt jump.

"Hey be careful, not so quick." I said reaching out.

"I'm perfectly fine." She flashed me a smile. "A very cute doctor did the best job here and I feel better than ever." She wrapped her arm around my hips and planted a kiss on my cheek.

Before I could react, footsteps approached the door and Heather swiftly moved to the side, leaving a space between us. Lea stormed into the room, just as if she was a hurricane.

"Why didn't you stop him?!" She shouted at me. I blinked, caught off guard, not sure of how to respond to that.

"I... I tried, but he managed to slip away somehow," I said, my voice faltering.

Lea kept gesturing wildly. "You had to stop him. It was an order! And you didn't! I had to shoot him because of you."

Heather stepped forward gaining her attention.

"It's her first day, Lea, and everything caught us by surprise, even me. I was the first one who couldn't stop him."

"Why are you taking her side?" she asked, glancing between us. That question made my nerves ring like a chaotic concert inside me.

"There are no sides, Lea. You were there, you saw what happened. That man hadn't harmed anyone before; we all thought he'd leave like all the other times. But his attack caught us all off guard. End of story."

Lea breathed heavily a couple of times without a word. "Okay." She said more at ease. "But she needs to be ready next time. Otherwise, she can't be here." Her eyes went through me like the laser that had pierced that old man.

"I will."

"Where is he now?" Heather said.

"We've decided to place him in the white group. If he's so eager to cross, let's allow him." I looked at Heather, not really understanding the meaning of that change. She didn't seem to like it, though.

"I don't approve of this decision." She said.

"There's nothing you can do about it. They've already registered him in the white group. They'll leave in a moment," Lea said with a condescending tone. The kind of superiority that made her insufferable.

Heather clenched her fists, pressing her lips together to hold back her anger. She didn't say anything else, but her silence spoke volumes.

"Grace, go back with the white group as you were told." Lea ordered.

I glanced briefly at Heather, and she nodded in agreement. Without another word, I left the room and headed toward the area where the white group was. Laura was standing with the man, helping him with his wounded leg.

"Thank you so much! Thank you!" The man exclaimed as I approached.

"Thank you?" I asked, confused.

"They heard you. They let me in!" It seemed he believed I was the reason he'd been accepted into the white group. I didn't deny it, but I didn't confirm it either. I didn't want to cause any more trouble.

"I can't believe I'm finally crossing! I'll see her!" He said.

"He has to go with the rest of the white group. They're leaving in a minute on that ship over there," Laura said, as I glanced at the large ship parked a few meters behind us.

By the time we arrived, all the people with white tags were already inside, about twenty or so. We helped the injured man sit down and then closed the door. The spaceship took off, and the man's smiling face behind the window disappeared.

"Do you know what the white color means?" I asked Laura.

"I just asked the same question to Lea a little while ago. You won't like the answer."

"Why? What is it?"

"Apparently, the colors represent eligibility for the Reg Society system. White basically means... ineligible."

Unease crept in.

"And what does that mean?" I asked.

"They'll undergo a reset procedure," she explained. "Their memories will be wiped, they'll be given new names, and voilà, they'll be ready to serve the system."

A sudden rush of cold swept over my entire body, and it felt as though a thousand needles pierced every pore of my skin. "The Reset." I had heard about it. Heather had mentioned it to me before, but I was never entirely sure if it was a reality or merely a threat used to intimidate people. Now, I knew. It was real. At that moment, more than ever, I wished that the man's story about his daughter was a lie because, if true, we had sent a father to a grim destiny: a sentence of living death.