Chapter 2 - The Punishment of the Old Beggar

Chapter 2 - The Punishment of the Old Beggar

He paused, his hands trembling.

"I watched from my window as monsters descended upon the city. I hid, trembling, praying it was just a nightmare."

The old man's voice cracked as he continued.

"Fifty percent of humanity perished on that first day alone. We tried to survive, clinging to whatever scraps of food and shelter we could find. But as the days turned into weeks, things only got worse. Within two months, 90 percent of humanity had perished."

Jenny gasped, her small hands flying to her mouth.

"Ninety percent…?"

The old beggar nodded, eyes hollow, as if reliving the horrors of that time. "Yes," he whispered.

"We were facing extinction. Starvation, monsters, chaos... It felt like the end of everything. But then the Founder emerged. He saved me, and countless others, from certain death. He gave us food, shelter, and the hope we had long lost."

Tears glistened in his eyes as he looked up at the towering structure of the Founding Temple.

"He built this complex, deep underground, to shield us from the monsters that roamed the surface. It became our sanctuary when there was nowhere else to go."

James and Jenny stood in silence, absorbing the old man's words. They couldn't imagine the horrors he had faced, the pain and fear he had endured.

"But now," the beggar continued, "we live in this new era, trying to piece together what little remains of our world."

I have revised and enhanced Chapter 2 to make the story more engaging, with better pacing, dialogue, and character development. Here is the improved version:

"Why did the Founder choose to name this place 'Complex'?" James asked, his eyes sharp and probing.

The old beggar chuckled, though there was an edge of sorrow in his voice. "When we first constructed this sanctuary, we debated many names. But in the end, the Founder decided on **COMPLEX**: **O** for Oxygen supply, **M** for Medical bay, **P** for Provision storage, **L** for Living quarters, and **E** for Energy supply. As for the letters C and X, well... they don't mean anything. "

James frowned. "You said you were one of the original members who helped build the Complex. So why aren't you allowed inside the Founder's temple?"

The beggar's smile faded, and a shadow passed over his face. "Because I am a sinner," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "And this… this is my punishment."

Jenny leaned forward, eyes wide and unblinking. "What did you do?"

The old beggar's lips quivered, and a hollow laugh escaped him. "What did I do, you ask?" He took a shaky breath, his eyes brimming with tears. "I was the reason for the Founder's death."

"What?!"

Jenny and James both gasped, stunned by the revelation.

James stepped closer, his expression hardening.

"How is that possible? If you were responsible for the Founder's death, they would've executed you. Yet, here you are, alive."

The beggar's eyes, brimming with unshed tears, locked onto James.

"You're right. But the founder… he didn't blame me. He chose to forgive."

The old man's voice cracked, and he took a shuddering breath. "Yet his forgiveness couldn't save him from the sickness I unleashed."

Silence hung in the air, thick and heavy. Jenny broke it, her voice trembling.

"What… what was your mistake?"

The old man chuckled again, but there was no joy in it, only sorrow.

"That, my dear, is a secret I will carry to my grave," he said, his eyes shining with a strange, almost defiant light.

A bell tolled in the distance, cutting through the silence.

"That's the signal for the credits collection," James muttered. "We need to go."

He took Jenny's hand, and they started to leave.

"Goodbye, old man," Jenny called, a tinge of sadness in her voice. "I hope we meet again."

James hesitated, his gaze lingering on the beggar before he turned away. They hurried down the alley, leaving the old man staring after them, his expression unreadable.

____

The two arrived at the Credits Hall, a large, bustling chamber filled with people from all walks of life. It was a daily ritual—collecting the meager credits that kept them alive in this world. In the Complex, credits were currency,

"Next person, please come forward," an automated voice echoed through the hall.

James stepped up to the counter, the cold metallic light reflecting off his tired face.

"James, mine laborer of CT-23, 4 credits per day. Transaction complete," the electronic voice announced as the small screen lit up, transferring the credits into his wristwatch.

Each resident had a credit watch, a sleek metallic band worn on the wrist that acted as both an ID and an electronic wallet. Credits were transferred wirelessly, and only the owner could access them. It's memory core was embedded into their skin, tracking every credit earned, every credit spent. If the owner died, the credits would be transferred to their next of kin or someone they had named. It was the one thing they couldn't afford to lose.

Jenny was next.

"Jenny, gardener of CT-23, 3 credits per day. Transaction complete."

She smiled faintly, watching as her watch buzzed, confirming the transfer. But before they could leave, a sudden commotion broke out.

*Thud. Thud. Thud.* The sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the hall, drawing everyone's attention.

"Why are the CTL officers here?" someone murmured.

The CTL—or the Complex Task Leaders—were more than just officers. They were the enforcers, the nobles, the elite. Their presence meant one thing: something important was about to happen.

"Jenny, gardener from CT-23,"

one of the officers announced, his voice clear and commanding.

"You have been selected as a candidate for CTL."

"What?"

The hall erupted into whispers and murmurs, disbelief rippling through the crowd like a wave.

"That little gardener got chosen for CTL? Impossible!"

"She must have caught the eye of someone important…"

Jenny's eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest. "Me? A CTL candidate?" She felt a rush of excitement but then, as if struck by a sudden blow, her joy turned to sorrow.

'if I become a CTL, I'll have to leave James…'

"Why was she chosen?" James demanded, stepping forward. There was an urgency in his voice, a desperation he couldn't hide.

The officer sneered. "The decision was made by the Elders of Seven. You know well that no one questions their judgment."

James felt his blood turn cold. The Elders of Seven weren't just leaders—they were legends. The Founder's original seven subordinates, the ones who took over after his death. Their authority was absolute, and their word was law.

"The Elders of Seven chose… her?"

The crowd's whispers grew louder, their disbelief palpable.

Jenny stood there, frozen, her heart torn between joy and fear. Then, taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, her gaze fixed on the officers.

"I'll join the CTL… but I have one condition."

~~~~To Be Continued ~~~~