Pretty Things, Pretty Places

An earth-shuddering roar disturbed a serene, tranquil forest in the early hours of the evening. Flocks of birds dispersed. Dirt and sand billowed away from the small glade at the foot of a crumbling mountain. The trees rustled in dissatisfaction. 

It was an entirely unwelcome phenomenon. 

The Crumbling Mountain's face parted begrudgingly with a scraping noise, revealing a dark, hollow space. Unnatural and menacing. 

Two figures strode out. Both were in grey jumpsuits and had their faces hidden beneath peculiar coverings. One of them wore a standard gas mask with a canister-like protrusion from the mouth, and his breathing was loud and muffled.

The other wore an unnerving, matte brass mask that stared at the dispersing flocks of birds with a mix of indifference and regret. His eyes glowed a faint emerald green, and thin brass pipes coiled about him like a group of little, slithering serpents. An eerie, wheezing, mechanical breathing noise resounded softly from the pipes and the small nose-like protrusion. Dark, bronze-streaked hair fell upon his face, reaching his nose languidly like tattered curtains. 

Ilyas was absorbing his surroundings in awe and astonishment. Beyond the glade, giant trees dwarfed him, making him feel small and insignificant. They weren't anything like the pathetic mimics of the Green Lounge, no, these ones were proud, solemn and unwavering. Winds rustled their leaves, but they remained firm and grounded. 

The ground reacted to his steps. Dirt drifted away, while the grass, after succumbing to his weight, stood up again as he passed forward. Leaves crunched. Insects scattered. Rocks remained unbudgeable. 

'This is nature?'

He huffed in delight behind his mask. 

'It's beautiful.'

Dwellers were accustomed to seeing images of landscapes from books, paintings, and even from those rare ancient photographs. However, from those media, one cannot truly sense the potency of its existence. Ilyas felt it now—the embrace of nature and how it welcomed him, how it surrounded his every being and existed everywhere. There were no walls, no ceilings, no limits, no end, just an infinite expanse. 

He tilted his head to the sky, then, suddenly nauseous, he lost balance, fell back, and landed embarrassingly on his buttocks. 

'Wha...?!'

Disoriented, he regained his composure and stood up. His second attempt to gaze at the sky was slower and more careful. Directly above him, a blue expanse covered everything. 

It was...

It was too absolute. Too vast for comprehension. Ilyas couldn't quite fathom its ubiquitous existence, but he could feel that its depth ran deeper than what met his eyes, like an intangible blue wall that spanned infinitely.

'Goodness!? Was this what we corrupted? Did we really poison it all?'

Ilyas was enamoured by it all, especially the breathtaking mystical phenomena that he could only catch a glimpse of between the trees. Near the horizon, the blue ceded to coral, amber, then to crimson as they all wreathed an absolute existence...

The sun. 

'Oh my!'

Ilyas didn't stare at it for too long and quickly diverted his gaze, even though he could barely glimpse it between the sprawling forest before him. But from what he saw, he understood why at certain points in human history, it was worshipped as a god.

After a few minutes of adjusting to his surroundings, Ilyas turned to Benjamin and found him walking near the edges of the glade. He seemed concerned. He didn't ponder anything, nor did it seem like he cared. He looked as if he was searching for something.

'What's up with him?'

Ilyas shrugged and began assessing his situation:

He was... Actually, where the hell was he? He had no frame of reference for anything? His father hinted multiple times that they weren't the last humans, or at least beings, around, so where were they? How would he find them?

He recalled a chapter from the Wasteland Crusader where Alexander was stranded in a desert and had to find his way back to civilisation before the enemies attacked.

'Ah, that was a good arc.'

The first thing Alexander did was establish his bearings. He observed the sun's movements and headed in the direction of the nearest human settlement. But Ilyas didn't know the location of any settlement. He didn't know if he should head west, east, north, or south. That would mean he would need to find an elevation and climb it. From there, he should at least get a hint, unless he was stranded in the middle of nowhere with no settlement for thousands of kilometres in each direction, of course.

'Gosh, who knew being a nerd would pull through one day?'

The sun was setting ahead of him, so that way was west. The Crumbling Mountain was east. And so North and South were self-explanatory. 

Ilyas smiled proudly and mentally patted himself on the back. 

'Yeah, this is gonna be a breeze... Wait, does this mean I'll finally get to know what a breeze is?'

Ilyas turned to Benjamin, who was finally returning with a stack of twigs. Thankfully, the man wasn't struggling yet. He'd still have about twenty-eight hours, according to the Councilman, before he succumbs to the atmosphere.

"We don't have long until dark," Benjamin said. "We should camp out here for the night."

Ilyas nodded, "Yeah, that's fine. But what are the sticks for?"

Benjamin stared at him silently for a moment, then said, "Really? You don't know?"

Embarrassed, Ilyas shook his head. Thankfully, the mask hid his face well. "No, not really... Wait! Are they for a fire?"

Benjamin nodded, "So you do know. Thank god. I was beginning to doubt the Vault's Educational Institute."

Ilyas cleared his throat and said awkwardly, "Yes, yes. The institute."

'They taught them that?! Why the hell would they learn survival skills in a damn Vaut?'

Of course, Ilyas only knew the answer because of, as usual, the Wasteland Crusader. If he hadn't read it, then he would have supposed to have learned this fact while attending the Vault's institute, but Young Ilyas was not about to spend a few hours surrounded by kids who only ever wanted to scream, bully and play. He did have Ray and Kim at the time, but they were also a few years older than he was. Thankfully, that hellhole wasn't compulsory. 

"There aren't any pillows, and there is nothing nearby that we can use, so we gotta make do with the floor for tonight," Benjamin added before making his way to the very centre of the glade and setting the twigs down. 

"With the cots we had in Level Five, the floor cannot be much worse," Ilyas scoffed. 

But Benjamin stared at him blankly and said, "I tried, they are. Careful not to get any insects on you. They're bigger than they were before."

"Before?" Ilyas probed.

"Before the war. The information and data they have in the Vault are outdated. They still think mosquitoes are the size of a finger."

Ilyas furrowed his brows behind the mask and asked, "What... What are mosquitoes, and how big are they now?"

Benjamin groaned, which sounded too expressive from his mask, and rubbed his temples. "Let's just get the fire started for now?"

***

An hour later, both of them were leaning, intimately close, over a small ember. They were both blowing with all the might their lungs could muster.

Ilyas was feeling a bit light-headed from the continuous blowing, but with the mounting cold and the encroaching darkness, which he was never fond of, he was desperate for this damn ember to grow. 

'Come on. Come on. Come on. Come on! Come on, Goddamit! They told me you used to scorch forests and incinerate people! So why the hell are you so pathetic?!

According to Benjamin, fire fed on air, or more specifically, oxygen. Which was strange since they were surrounded by oxygen at all times. When he asked Benjamin that, he told him that a baby flame cannot naturally feed on oxygen and needs help. 

It kind of made sense when Ilyas translated it into human terms. An infant cannot feed itself. 

Every once in a while, their masks would clang against each other, reminding them to keep their distance. Initially, it was quite awkward, but now, they were both too desperate and frenzied for this damn, sad excuse of a flame, to grow.

And after a few long, draining minutes, the ember finally flickered, devoured the dry leaves and expanded to engulf the nest of twigs. They both immediately pulled back and slumped on the ground. 

Both were catching their breaths.

Ilyas, finally, caught a glimpse of the night sky for the first time, and he didn't like it at all.

Let alone the fact that he was... not a fan... of the dark, the night sky loomed over him like a hungry abyss. He knew it was endless and felt, unlike during the day, that he was looking at the actual, naked face of the sky.

He felt small and vulnerable.

He felt as if he was at its mercy at all times and that it was judging him with a million shimmering eyes. 

'Those must be the stars.'

The moon was nowhere to be seen, which was surprising. The moon was such a recurring thing in literature and poetry, so he assumed it'd be this pretty presence that soothed from that horrid sky.

'Maybe that's why they loved it so much. With all this darkness, I'd also be glad with a heavenly lantern smiling on me.'

The fire danced between him and Benjamin, casting frisky shadows and darkening their surroundings to an ominous degree. Ilyas made an effort not to look at the forest, lest he pass out from heart issues.

Minutes later, they both grabbed a tomato from their sacks, skewered it on a stick, which Ilyas found incredibly unsanitary but braved nonetheless, and started roasting it over the fire. Ever since the fire explanation, they've done everything in silence. But Ilyas had questions, too many in fact, but the main one was:

"Mr. Benjamin, sir... you've been to the surface before, have you?" Ilyas's tone was a bit hesitant, yet he was certain. Ever since the Foyer Chamber, he carried that suspicion, and it only grew. The man was too indifferent for someone who'd lived his whole life underground. 

Benjamin cocked his head at him, kept quiet for a few moments before finally answering, "So what?"

Ilyas was determined not to pursue this conversation, knowing his companion wasn't willing to talk, but his curiosity got the better of him.

"You may not want to answer this question, sir, and that's fine, but how?"

Mr Benjamin didn't answer; he just stared at him warily. 

'Oh god, not this again.'

The strange man withdrew his stick, unskewered his tomato without bothering to flinch from the heat, took a deep breath, removed his mask, took a bite, then put his mask back on as if he didn't just expose himself to agonising death.

He did all this without unhooking his eyes from Ilyas. 

'I think I'm kind of used to it by now.'

"You won't tell anyone, so why not?" The strange man finally said while chewing. "I used to dwell in Level Two."

Ilyas' eyes snapped open, and his brows shot up. 

'What!?'

But before he could say anything, Benjamin continued:

"And I used to have a son with me. He was about your age. My son, however, got into an altercation with one of the higher-ups after he discovered the fraud in the Registry Room. He decided to be noble about it and confront the Council, but before he could say anything, my boy disappeared. Vanished. Nothing. Sometime later, I figure out they exiled him-"

"What?!" Ilyas interrupted, unable to contain his shock. "I thought we were"

Benjamin laughed, cutting him off. "What? You thought we were the first to leave the Vault in a long time? No. No, no, that's not how it works. The Gateway is their disposal bin when they can't afford the Garden. People speak, kid. And that's not always good for the Chiefs. Did you really think the Preservation Judgement was an annual thing? Only to Five it is. Imagine if the Fives and Fours figure that out."

Ilyas, confused, stuttered, "Wha..?"

Benjamin took another deep breath and said, "Think of it like this, Five and Four sustain the Vault, while Three and Two reap the benefits. Five and Four get nicked every year by Judgement, Three and Two don't. How do they maintain their numbers? Well, simple, if by the rules, they never needed to nick Five and Four every year, they just needed to do it once every five years. But by doing so, Three and Two can cheat and never be condemned themselves. And those who figure it out, like my son, get exiled so they don't have to go through the legitimised Garden process. That way, they also have ghosts they use once they're in a tough spot with the Dwellers."

Ilyas finally understood, and when he did, he just sighed. He wasn't surprised, nor should he be. Why would he? The worst has already passed for him.

So he was just disappointed.

He looked up at Benjamin and said, "So in my case, with-"

"-Oh, your friend Kim?"

"She's not my friend," Ilyas asserted as a matter of fact. 

Benjamin chuckled, then said, "Oh, your ex-friend then? Well, I know about her. She and her husband came to the council with her pregnancy and submitted a request for approval. Strangely enough, their matter was raised to the Chiefs of the Chamber... quite surprising, I'd say. The Chiefs proposed an enticing offer. You... for the baby. And not just that, their family will ascend to Four, and the baby will be taken care of until they're eligible. I must say, Mr. Ilyas, I was really shocked to hear how desperate they were to get rid of you."

Yeah. Ilyas was shocked too. 

'Huh? ...me specifically? Why?'

"I don't get it? I'm... was it because I was about to ascend to Four? Were my merits threatening?" 

Benjamin chuckled, then shook his head. "No. No, they don't give a damn about who ascends to Four; they might care about Three. Honestly, Mr. Ilyas, I am quite curious about the reasons as well. I'm certain it has something to do with your father. I heard that he was dying soon, and he definitely came from the surface. So all they needed was to get rid of you. Why?"

Benjamin scoffed, leaned back, and propped himself up with an elbow. "I guess I'll remain curious."

Ilyas remained silent for a bit, absorbing what he had just heard. Yes, he too deduced that his father came from the surface, which does explain many peculiarities about him. Especially why people found themselves subconsciously treating him with contempt and disdain. And so, he too was treated that way as a result. The Dwellers didn't know it, but their sanctimoniousness was there nonetheless.

A strange phenomenon indeed.

It made sense that the Chiefs of the Chamber wanted to get rid of them desperately if that was the case, but not enough to do so.

So why?

What was it about them that made them so detested by the Dwellers? But that also posed another question? He looked up at Benjamin and asked, "So what happened after you figured out what happened to your son?" Ilyas wanted to know how Benjamin was let back in. Why let someone from the surface, whom they hated so much, return?

Benjamin smirked behind his mask and said, "Well, I went to get him, of course. I planned for six months, shadowed the Guardians' movements for six months, stole some gear, ascended to One, made it to the Gateway, and by the time the Vault was alerted, I had already left. What, you want to return?"

'Huh?!'

Ilyas couldn't keep that thought to himself and exclaimed, "Huh?! God no!"

Benjamin scoffed, then said, "It took me a whole year. And since I was a Dweller of Two, I was more endowed, and I still barely made it. Anyway-" Benjamin pointed at the face of the Crumbled Mountain that stood obscured in the darkness, the entrance to the vault. "The Gateway isn't the only entrance, but it is the only exit. I spent a few days on the outside with a few gas masks to get by. I made it as far as the river. I followed my son's trail until I found him."

"How did you follow his trail if he left way before you?"

"My son is a smart boy, Mr Ilyas. He left marks. Notches on trees. Signs. And he survived for a while, but by the time I found him..." Benjamin took a deep, shuddering breath, then said, "He was dead. And his corpse, or what was left of it at least, was desecrated. I spent some time with him and learned a few things: First, the atmosphere killed him. Second, his corpse was dissected and was missing its limbs. All that remained of him were his lungs, guts, and cleanly decapitated head..."

Benjamin paused, and that manic paranoia in his eyes that he had seen back in the lounge and the platform briefly returned. Seconds later, it disappeared again. "There was nothing left for me out here anymore, so I returned through one of the emergency entrances down the river. I learned the code when I infiltrated the Registry Room just as you did. And that entrance led me to Five. I tried to stay discreet, and I did for a few months, but as you can see..." He opened his arms as if to say, 'here I am'.

Ilyas looked down. His face must have been strange throughout it all, with his eerie mask not revealing any emotion behind his thoughts and words. 

There was a lot to think about. His exile. His father. That monster hive he called home not too long ago. 

'So it was all a lie. I was never meant to last long anyway. The old man knew that much since he had already told me something was going to happen that day. And the Threes and Twos are living guilty lives whether they like it or not, huh? All kept hidden from the Fours and Fives.'

Ilyas contemplated his situation for a few minutes and retrieved his burnt tomato. He took a deep breath, removed his mask with inexplicable ease, which was strange since only a few seconds ago, it felt as if it was a part of his face, and took a bite. 

His face was forlorn and serious when he looked up at Benjamin, rewore his mask, and said in a sombre tone:

"So, Mr Benjamin, if you're planning to kill me, can we do it now? I don't want to be startled in my sleep."