The Golden State banners seemed to stare down at Matthew Abbot from all angles in the New Information Department. They were almost as numerous as the hidden security cameras. He kept his head down, seeming focused on his current project. It was a biography of a famous Alpha who had supposedly designed a more efficient rationing system; one that cut the cost to produce food as well as provide more of it to the lower castes. If he didn't know better, Matthew would have thought of the man as a hero.

But it was all a lie.

Yes, the Alpha did cut the cost of food production, but he did not increase the amount of food being produced. If anything, there was less of it than ever before. The Golden State just wanted to keep the Betas and Omegas malnourished and ignorant of their abuse. It made him sick. He closed his eyes and pushed away the feeling of disgust, giving the biography a stamp of approval to be released to the public. No matter how much he loathed his job, he couldn't draw any suspicion to himself. Matthew risked a glance at the nearest Reaper guard.

Traitors.

He was about to pull the next manuscript from his pile when a clamorous buzzing noise pervaded the room, signaling the end of the shift. Matthew, along with all the rest of the Betas, gathered their personal effects into individual briefcases to take home with them. Matthew walked past the Reaper towards the exit, not allowing himself to chance another glimpse at the man. No one dared to meet the eyes of a Reaper. Even that was enough to put one under suspicion in some cases. He strode into the hallway, keeping his face carefully neutral. The cameras were everywhere in Beta quarters.

Even outside, Matthew was cautious. He walked with purpose. Anyone observed lingering around for no obvious purpose would be put under intensive surveillance, and he couldn't risk that. Even though he knew it would happen today. Whoever the informant would be, he or she would have to be brisk in their business. His jade eyes flickered from face to face as he walked towards the train station. He would probably be contacted here since it was always so packed. The cameras wouldn't see the passing of a single piece of paper among the heavy crowd.

There.

Matthew wormed his way into the center of the throng of Betas. A woman from the other side did the same. Their calculated movements wouldn't be picked out among the others. Matthew stopped when he was standing beside her, and he felt her slip something into his open hand: his next assignment from the Insurgency. The transaction was brief and once it was complete, they moved away from each other almost as quickly as they had joined up. The train rolled to a stop in the station, and the Betas began boarding. Matthew was jostled a bit as he made his way towards one of the doors to get on. He handed an ID to the Reaper at the entrance - carefully avoiding eye contact - who verified his identity and allowed him to step inside.

Matthew got off at his stop in the Beta living quarters and made his way home. Even here he had to be mindful of his face and posture, but it was difficult not to hasten his pace. He was impatient to get home so he could read the assignment. He forced himself to maintain his calm exterior as he approached the door to his tenement. He entered the building and turned towards the stairs. The elevator never worked, so he didn't bother with it.

Three impatient flights of stairs later, he reached his apartment. Matthew went into his room and sat down at his desk, pulling out a project from work so as to appear busy to the camera pointed at his back. He slipped the crumpled paper with his real assignment on top of the work file, carefully unfolding it to read what was written inside.

Omega Quarters
17:00 - 27/10
5569 Bronze CT 72046
Proprietor Draft

Matthew tore the paper into small shreds after carefully memorizing the information. The task amused him. He was to travel to the Omega Quarters on October 27th at 17:00. There, he would visit the addressed location to recruit the business owner of wherever he was going into the Insurgency. Usually recruitment was reserved for higher level members, not young ones such as himself. Maybe he was moving up the ranks faster than he expected. There was no real way to tell though, as the Insurgency hadn't had a meeting in the last four years. All interaction between members had been happening through the meticulous passing of notes. With all the drafting going on lately, perhaps the mysterious leaders - they never revealed their faces, even to the Insurgency members - were considering having one at last.

It was about time.

Matthew discretely put away his files, as if he had been engrossed in his paperwork the whole time. He collected a couple useless pages and threw them in his trash, sliding the shredded Insurgency assignment in with them. He got up from his desk, stretched, and stepped over to his calendar, marking off today's date: October 26th. Matthew changed out of his work clothes and put on a shabby pair of black sweatpants and flopped onto his bed. He had to get a good night's sleep tonight. Tomorrow evening, he would go recruiting in the Omega district.

"If you two don't get yer hands off of each other, I will cross this fuckin' bar and MAKE you stop fightin'." Kathrine slammed a heavy mug down on the dirty surface of the bar, and listened to the silence that followed. Her other hand gripped a small rag tightly, frozen above it's surface. The silence in the bar echoed in her ears. Her eyes narrowed as she stared at two men, both still gripping at each other's shirts. Her lip curled in a rough snarl as she arched an eyebrow and waited. After a few more seconds she slammed the mug on the table again, making the people closest to her flinch. Slowly, the men loosened their grips and let go of one another. They moved to oppasite ends of the bar, scoffing in the awkward silence and making quiet comments to their buddies. Soon the bar had filled with noise again, and the tension in Kathrine's arms loosened a bit.

Kathrine tugged at her work uniform, waiting for the day to end while she scrubbed down the counter. On her hung a pair of loose jean overalls, cut up and worn out. They were her short pair, since it was too hot in the damn place to wear full length jeans, they came down to the middle of her theighs. This, unfortunately, revealed her freckled, bruised and scraped up legs. Her shirt was a simple white top with stains across most of it, the sleeves had been ripped off, showing off her strong arms. She ran one hand through her short hair and sighed. Maintaining a tough image in a bar full of incredibally strong men and women was tough, but she liked it. Pausing from her cleaning she let out a hacking cough before turning to the nearest garbage and spitting out whatever was in her mouth.

"Whatchya got back there?" A man said as he eyed Kathrine up and down.

"Beer, moonshine, whiskey and vodka. Dregs if you want somethin' mixed."

"Nah, I mean, what you got back there?" He smiled at her, revealing a mouth of broken and missing teeth.

"A knife or my fist in yer face, whichever one you prefer. I can make it shakin' not stirred too."

The man let out a few rude remarks before getting up to leave. God she wished this night would end faster.

While serving at the bar, two men start fighting all of a sudden. John quickly tries to stop their pointless fight, "I am warning you, you don't wanna make her mad!" he said nervously. Despite this they still kept on fighting, then all of a sudden;
"If you two don't get yer hands off of each other, I will cross this fuckin' bar and MAKE you stop fightin'."

Johns heart stops, he turns around and sees an angered Kathrine holding a heavy mug, he quickly backs away from the two men knowing that once Kathrine gets angry, there's almost no way of stopping it. She slams a heavy mug which makes John flinch. "I tried to warn you" he thinks to himself. The whole bar went silent, but John wasn't surprised. This happens almost daily, sighing to himself, "She always has a way to break up these fights" he mutters under his breath. John tries and cleans up the mess they made and goes back to work.

He glances at the man who was talking to Kathrine and then moves towards the door, "Another one of her admirers or something?" He thought. Then the man bumps into him, slipping a note into his hand and then shouting "Watch where yer going bub!", "Sorry!" John replies while crumpling the note and sliding it into his pockets. "I think Kathrine might've seen that." he thought. Soon asking Kathrine if he could take a quick bathroom break, her nodding yes, he goes into the toilet, if you can call it a toilet. He goes into one of the stalls and unfolds the note;

Omega Quarters
17:00 - 27/10
5569 Bronze CT 72046
Proprietor Draft

"What's this? Another recruitment drive? Well I hope this one is better than the last one, it didn't go too well last time." He thought to himself.

As Adrianna approached the tall imposing building where the majority of inner-governmental functions took place she could feel the stinging gaze of the hidden cameras. Many people lived ignorant of their existence, but as a member of both the Golden State's government and the Insurgency she knew fully of their existence, and they were, of course, the most heavily concentrated here. The golden banners of her government hung almost mockingly around the plaza.The feeling of security here was false, for even as an Alpha she was still under scrutiny. She was careful to maintain her even and poised walk, trying to appear calm and collected even under governmental scrutiny. She, of course, had nothing to hide. At least that's what she would tell them.

As she entered the cool air-conditioned building she gave a small nod to the Reaper guarding the entrance. She was, after all, a member of the 'Inner Circle' and didn't have the fear of the Reapers that many have. Her status was such that if one dragged her in with no concrete evidence of wrongdoing they would be scoffed at. Today she was appointed to attend a meeting between leaders from the Omega's slums and the Alpha government. The meeting was to outline the Omega's ideas for setting up efficient irrigation systems for self-sustenance farming. They would obviously require governmental funds for this. And it was obviously Adrianna's duty to decline these requests with as little malice as possible. Even though her 'fellow' Alphas enjoyed living better then the Omegas they would have to keep them in line, and such an issue had to be approached with delicacy.

The meeting room was small, with a long desk going across the room with seats for all those attending. A window in the back let in the hot sticky summer sun. Adrianna would derive no enjoyment from her task of denying the Omegas, but nonetheless she had to. She had to keep up appearances with the Alphas. She would undoubtedly be executed if she was found to have sympathies with lower classes, and rebellious tendencies. All those in attendance sat in their appointed seats, and Adrianna sat at the head of the table. The meeting was attended by a handful of Omegas, a Reaper simply there to watch the Omegas, and a pair of Alphas that were appointed to assist Adrianna. It was a long meeting, filled with much protest from the Omegas, but in the end, it ended how it inevitably would. The Omegas returned home frustrated and disappointed.

Adrianna was disappointed too, but for now things had to be this way. Change will come at the right time.

As Adrianna exited the cool air-conditioned building she found that the hot, sticky summer sun was hanging high in the sky. Adrianna's home was a short distance from the building, so she typically chose to walk between the two. A house close to this building was typically considered an award, but instead she saw it as a burden. More surveillance in the area, and more scrutiny from the government. But perhaps that's the reason their houses were so close. As Adrianna walked towards her house, she spied upon the Omegas returning to their homes. Adrianna walked by choice, but they walked because they had to.They couldn't afford luxuries like transportation. They were clearly in a glum mood, and as one of them caught her eye, their face turned to malice. It was clear that the Omegas and the Betas hated the Alphas, at least to Adrianna. And she couldn't blame them.

But this man, staring into Adrianna's eyes, made a clear mistake. Such malice should not be put on display by a member of the lower classes towards one of her stature. Perhaps it was caught by a camera, or perhaps by an undercover Reaper, but it was later passed long to her that this man had 'disappeared'. No doubt he was dead, and there was no doubt she felt guilt, but for now for all she knew was that it was just a dirty look, and she kept walking. She had already felt regret for denying them funding, and she already had enough of today. She returned home quickly.

Adrianna's home was no doubt better described as a mansion. She was an Alpha in high standing, so she had one of the finest homes in the area. She opened the deep brown hardwood door into her cold house, kept safe from the summer sun by the ever-watching AC unit. She was greeted by one of her maids; She has a large service staff so she could only remember the names of the ones closest to her. Adrianna returned the greeting, and politely asked if she would relay to her kitchen that she wises for dinner soon. She relayed that she should thank them.

The day was long, and she was asleep by the time dinner was prepared.

Verity focused on the steak as it came out of the oven. Word had just been sent down that Miss Fields had returned. She was probably hungry and would be requesting dinner soon. The girl stuck the thermometer into the steak and examined the dial. It had come out perfectly even. However that was only one half of the process. Next came the seasoning. Other cooks flurried around her, finishing the rest of the meal, adding last touches, checking on her. The activity certainly was nerve-wracking, especially for someone as shy and introverted as Verity, but she forced herself to focus. She had a duty. A pinch of salt, a sprinkle more of pepper and it was complete. Just as she was taught, a perfectly seasoned steak. Verity let out her breath. She hadn't even realised she was holding it. Unfortunately she had no time to celebrate, there was more to be done.

The word had reached the kitchen, Miss Fields was hungry but she also thanked her staff for working hard. Verity felt a swell of pride in her chest and nodded in appreciation as she looked at the meal. It would do. Verity felt her pulse quicken as she felt a hand on her shoulder. She whirled around and saw that it was, predictably, another cook. He gave a mischievous grin at her obvious surprise. It was only Mikael, he loved to tease Verity about her shyness and naiveté.

"Come on Verity, it was only a joke. Besides, I actually need to tell you that you need to fetch Miss Fields for her meal."

She crossed her arms and looked at him, not in the eyes because that would make her blush and the last thing she needed was another thing for Mikael to tease her about. She focused on his mouth as she responded with her carefully worded response: "Don't do that, Mikael."

"Ever the closed book, eh Ver?"

"I should go."

She ignored whatever response he had in mind and walked out of the kitchen. The rest of the very large house was surprisingly cold and she shivered as she brushed her hands along her uniform to straighten it. Her soft footfalls nonetheless echoing as she approached the Alpha's bedroom. Verity sucked in her breath and mustered her courage before knocking lightly and opening the door to find Miss Fields asleep on her bed. She bit her lip and called out, "M-Miss? Miss? Miss Fields, your dinner is ready."

The Old Information Department, at least the News branch of it, was old and musty, resembling the books and information they were working with. Jacob was working frantically, as usual, to impress his superiors. He, as well as the majority of the Betas, knew that hidden cameras were watching people constantly; he always worked hard, never knowing when he would be in the lime light. Busy sorting news between the important and unimportant, Jacob was waiting for his workday to be over. The job wasn't what he thought it would be. He hadn't gone to trade school for nine years to categorize papers, yet that's what he did for a living. Categorizing papers into two categories was the first, and most mindless, task. The important news were rewritten, altered if you will, to comply with the Golden State's regulations. The unimportant news were tracked down and ripped from their sources. The news ceased to exist after that point, at least in print. That was the flaw with the system. The news can only be twisted so much before some people remembered the truth. They couldn't mention it of course, for they risked being killed, but everybody knew that there were still people who knew of the past--the life before the war.

Jacob was busy analyzing A Brief History of Gandi when a buzz filled the room, signaling the end of the workday. The piece was intriguing, but he knew it wouldn't make the cut. The Golden State banned all work involving revolutions, and that was the basis of the research paper--Gandi's efforts to create a newer, fairer world. Therefore he would inevitably have to file the paper under "unimportant," even though he thought otherwise. Nevertheless, his day was over, so he stopped worrying about Gandi and the likes. He collected his few items into a briefcase and filed out the door alongside the other Betas, ready to return home. As he passed the Reaper that had been monitoring his shift, he kept his head down, not out of fear but out of respect. Once out of the door he followed the organized line out to the train station.

The train station was a jumbled mess of Betas trying to find their way to a train door. It didn't surprise Jacob though; it was always like this--a busy mess of people worrying more about getting home to a tapped home than trampling somebody. As Jacob made his way to the train door, an elderly man, well considered elderly by The Golden State (the man was just starting to sprout some gray hairs), bumped into him. Jacob muttered a half sincere apology, after all he wasn't the one who bumped into another person, but the man made a bone chilling statement back.

"They're looking for you."

Jacob was taken by surprise, but the message didn't mean much to him. He hadn't been on bad ground with anyone for years. The odds of somebody waiting for him was slim to none; a more likely explanation was that the man was talking to the wrong person. But still, messages like that weren't common. A seen bump or a noticed "glitch" in the normal routine of things could mean being taken by the Reapers for "questioning." We all knew how that always ended up. Jacob made his way to the train door and handed the Reaper positioned there his ID.

"Are you Jacob Barrett?"

Jacob was taken by surprise. Nobody knew his last name. Nobody called him Jacob Barrett. But he wasn't going to tell the Reaper that. The fact that Jacob had been taken aside for questioning before boarding was bad enough; he didn't need a pissed off Reaper on his hands either, so he responded truthfully. "Yes sir, I am Jacob Barrett."

"Follow me. You are being taken into custody. You are now property of the Golden State. At this point you have no rights. You will comply or you will meet death. If you comply, follow me. If you want to make a scene I have orders to shoot you on the spot. I think it is in your best interest to do as I ask."

Jacob followed the man. Death wasn't of his best interest today. The glares were obvious. The train station seemed to slow down in time and everybody was taking their sweet time to glare at him. People weren't moving, they were gawking. They were standing still and silent trying to make sense of what had just happened. A Reaper shot his pistol in the air. "Keep moving or I'll put all of you in god damn custody!" he barked. The train station sped back up. People started moving again and the station cleared out, the train with it. The train was gone, the people were gone, and Jacob was still following the Reaper.

Matthew started off his morning in his usual uninteresting way. He had a stale bagel with margarine and a cup of coffee (at least, that's what it was supposed to be). He dressed himself in a white button-up shirt and black slacks. It would have been halfway dressy, if the clothes weren't covered in old patches and numerous small tears from repeated use. Beta stores weren't provided many new clothes, and the ones they had were ridiculously expensive. Matthew settled for buying from the used stock so he could save his money for more important purchases.

Matthew exited his apartment and walked down to the train station to head off to work. He had to work a bit harder to keep his facial expression even because of his excitement for the assignment he was given to carry out today. Even as he stood waiting for the train, being swarmed by the oncoming crowd of other Betas who also worked for the Information Departments, he was scheming; plotting out how he would slip off to the Omega Quarters without drawing suspicion to himself.

Matthew habitually flashed his ID to the Reaper at the train door before getting on board. His demeanor betrayed nothing to the guard. If he was right and the Insurgency leaders finally did have a plan to share, he wouldn't need to worry about the secretive security force for much longer. No one would. Soon, they would all be free. He had to stifle the corners of his mouth as they threatened to reveal his hidden smile.

Just a little longer.

With that thought in mind, Matthew found his work for the Golden State far less tedious. He felt less guilt as he stamped his approval on manuscripts full of deceit, and even offered a coworker a friendly smile when their eyes accidentally met across the room. It was a dangerous move, and the other Beta raised his eyebrows in shock, his eyes darting to the nearest Reaper to see if she had noticed. The rest of the day went by in a flash, and he was almost surprised to hear the thundering buzz signaling the end of his shift. It was 16:00. Matthew's heart sped up.

This is it.

By now, Matthew had his plan all figured out. He walked down to the train station, as per usual, and boarded with the other Betas. However when it got to his stop, he didn't get off. One of the Reapers gave him a questioning look, but Matthew was prepared. He had thought up a valid excuse for his actions that would quell their skepticism as long as he didn't dawdle in Omega territory. The Reaper approached him.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I have an urgent assignment from Alpha Linville," Matthew replied coolly, meeting the Reaper's steady gaze. Under normal circumstances he would never do such a thing, but he had to make the guard believe him.

"What assignment?" the Reaper's tone held unrestrained cynicism.

"There was a printing error in the New Information Department," Matthew didn't miss a beat. "A manuscript slipped through screening and ten copies got out before we noticed. According to our shipment records they ended up at an Omega shop, and Alpha Linville assigned the duty to me to collect them."

The Reaper studied Matthew cautiously. It wasn't a likely excuse, but it was believable. Such accidents had occurred in the past. After a moment, the Reaper nodded and gave the Omega conductor a signal to move along. Matthew let out his breath in a long exhale of relief. He had managed to carry out the first part of his plan. Now he just had to hope the Reapers didn't try to contact Linville to verify the printing error.

Luckily it appeared they didn't. The train rolled to a stop in the Omega station, and Matthew got off. The Reapers informed him that the next train would come by at 19:00, and they would be waiting for him on it. What they didn't say was that they would find and kill him if he was late, but Matthew already knew that. He looked around the station. It was eerily quiet. Very few Omegas had permission to board a train, so the tracks only ran this far because of occasional upper caste business. He glanced at his watch. 16:30. He had two-and-a-half hours to find this Omega proprietor, convince him or her to join the Insurgency, and get back to the station.

Let's hope this guy is reasonable.

Adrianna dreamt of life in the Omega slums. In her dream she never became an Alpha, and was instead destined for life as a malnourished Omega. She felt the everyday fear of the Reapers. She felt the everyday sadness of wondering how many rations they would be allowed today. It was in this dream that Adrianna Fields truly came to understand that even though she claimed empathy with the Betas and the Omegas, she still did nothing to help. If anything she only brought more suffering to those under her, just like she did today. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't do anything to stop the suffering. So, it was through this dream that Adrianna came to a new resolve. She would no longer wait for future change. She would do something to change things now. Everything will start tomorrow.

But for now, Adrianna had to eat dinner. She was awoken by one of her servants, one that she did not recognize. She slowly arose from he bed, awaking groggy. She stretched, starting to fully wake. "Dinner? Yes, of course, thank you for waking me. It's been a harder day then I thought, I guess." Adrianna started walking out the door, but she paused as she passed the young servant. "By the way, what's your name? I don't believe we've met." Adrianna would start her new crusade by treating those Omegas close to her how they should be treated. They might be her servants, but she could at least take the consideration to learn their names.

Verity watched as the Alpha got out of bed and prepared to eat dinner. She was a pretty girl, a few years older than her yet shorter than her. The other girl's long beautiful red hair Verity found to be distracting in the best way possible. For now though, she had to focus on other things. She looked down to make sure her plain servant's skirt and cook's apron were in proper condition still. Thankfully they were. She could hear the sound of bustling servants as the table downstairs was set and prepared. Everything was going perfectly. At least until the Alpha stopped in front of her and asked, "By the way, what's your name?"

Oh no. Something must have gone wrong. Why else would she ask for a name, if only to record it for punishment. If Verity had a more healthy complexion, all the colour would be draining from it as they spoke. Still, it was easy enough to tell when she was flustered. Verity bit her lip. It was certainly a bad habit but a habit is hard to break, good or bad. Well. if something had gone wrong, it was entirely Verity's own fault and better her to take the punishment then someone undeserving.

"Ah..uhm..Verity, miss." She answered after what seemed like years, but was most likely a few moments. So it wasn't the most graceful of answers, but nothing that came out of her mouth was ever graceful.

The air in the back of the armored van was stale. No doubt due to the fact that it was packed with eight people. Among them sat James who shifted his eyes around the faces that sat around him. The person directly in front of him was Mr. Tweed, an Alpha who served as a supervisor among the Reapers. James knew that today was going to be a special day the second he saw Mr. Tweed walk into James' office early this morning. Then, the people who sat all around him were fellow Reapers, but unlike James they were all heavily armed and wearing military looking equipment. In fact, James felt uncomfortable sitting in the middle of the van with his cheap black suit especially when the person sitting right next to him was a legendary figure among the Reapers. Armed with a gigantic sniper rifle, the person next to James was Mr. Simon Hayha.

According to official records, Hayha had been a part of approximately 150 assassination missions, and is credited with 270 kills. The most frightening thing was that every Reaper knew that the official records often omitted a majority of these special missions, so some rumors have spread among the Reapers that in reality Mr. Hayha has at least 1,000 kills with his sniper rifle. This guy was the real deal. Mr. Hayha breathed for the will of the Golden State, and would easily kill any dissenter from a mile away. Thus, even many Reapers feared Mr. Hayha as some claim that Mr. Hayha could smell disloyal thoughts. Although the olfactory aspect of the legend was obviously fabricated, Mr. Hayha still demanded respect no matter who you were. In fact, Alphas, who know of him, take care to not offend him, and are often visibly scared of being in his presence.

James shook his head to dispel the thoughts in his mind. For some reason, Mr. Tweed told him to get in the van this late morning, and they had been traveling for almost an hour. Still, James wasn't told what was happening, and being in this state of confusion was suffocating to James. Thus, he decided to speak out "Mr. Tweed. May I ask what is going on?" Mr. Tweed turned his head sharply and looked at James. He said "Wolff, we need your ability. You've been acting as a interrogator for the last three years despite not being officially designated as such, and have some of the most success in extracting information. I don't know how you do it with your... pacifist techniques. However, we need you to act as a negotiator. There's an Omega who we've received reports about. Somehow, this guy got his hands on a pistol. I don't know how. Anyways, he took an Omega female child as hostage, and is holed up in an abandoned apartment complex. We've managed to secure the area, and we already raided his home where we found a lot of illegal political, religious writings, and drug paraphernalia."

Mr. Tweed then handed him a list of a bunch of titles that he recognized such as 'The Communist Manifesto', Dante's 'Paradise', and one of his favorites, 'The Prince'. Tweed then continued to talk "Because of this, we think that he might be affiliated with the Insurgency, and this would be their biggest move in the last few years. We want him captured alive for further interrogation, and this is where you come in. Convince him to surrender."

James responded "Uhh, sir. It seems to me that we have an extremist. I doubt that I can convince him to surrender especially when he's not in a right state of mind..." Mr. Tweed then cut him off and said "Well, it's either you convince him to surrender, or we go in hot. I can't guarantee that the child will be safe if that happens, but his capture is more important. So, I don't really care. The only reason why I'm bringing you in the first place is that some of the higher ups don't want to piss off the Omegas any more than necessary. So, it's up to you. Convince him to give up somehow, or we're doing it the good old fashioned way." James thought to himself "Damn it all." as the life of the little girl rested in his hands. James nodded and said "I'll do my best." Mr. Tweed replied "I don't want your best, Wolff. I want you to just do it."

He then reached into his utility belt and pulled out some things. He handed them over to James and said "Here. Consider this to be a promotion. If you see an opportunity, then go for it." James took the objects and looked at them. It was a pair of cuffs, a little ear piece and what appeared to be a little taser. Although he wasn't comfortable with using the taser, James was trained in the use of weapons, so it wasn't that he didn't know how to handle it. Regardless, James hoped that he didn't have to use it. The van came to a slow stop, and the rear door opened. Mr. Tweed jumped out, and turned around. He happily announced "It's show time, boys."

The room he was placed in was dark, damp, and incredibly silent. Jacob sat down on the wet floor, trying to contemplate what he did to get himself here. Let's see. I walked through the train station. Nothing strange there. I bumped into a man who told me they were looking for me. Strange, but not enough for the Reapers to particularly care. He handed the Reaper his ID. Nothing out of order there either; it was standard protocol. None of it made sense in the slightest, but Jacob didn't have time to contemplate the day. The lights flickered on and a executive Reaper, indicated by the three golden stripes on his sleeve, strolled in the room.

"Are you Jacob Barrett, son of Margret and Phillip Barrett, birthed 19 and a half years ago on this exact day?" interrogated the chief.

"Yes sir, I am. I am the Jacob Barrett you speak of."

"Welcome to the ranks then. For the past 11 years of your life, the Golden State has kept eyes on you, monitoring you more than the average citizen. You have shown potential in the field of justice, security, and enforcement. You excelled in Trade School and have moved on to successfully and efficiently perform your assigned tasks in The Old Information Department. Earlier today you were interrupted by a Reaper and taken to this exact location for a very specific reason. Today marks a grand day in history for both you and the Golden State. Jacob Barrett, son of Margret and Phillip Barrett, you have been promoted to the ranks of a Reaper. It is a pleasure to have you with us."

Silence. Absolutely nothing. No speech, no communication, just silence.

"Well god damn tell me I did not just recruit a mute. Say something rookie!"

"Sorry Chief. I'm.... Excited and all, just a little taken back. Um.... So what does this mean exactly? What do I do and all?"

"Well first things first the State makes all recruits sign this paper and then we have to go through rules and what's gonna happen, but once we get through with that we'll be good to start your training tomorrow morning."

Kathrine let out a long sigh. Everyone had cleared out. At 2AM the bar closed and she was left alone with her assistant to count tips and clean any spilled alcohol off the tables. "Close all these damn windows, they're letting the bugs in." She said to John as she locked the doors behind her last customer. Within a few minutes she had buffed all the small tables that were scattered through the place, and flipped the chairs upside down, placing them on top of the table tops. She tossed the rag in John's direction and motioned for him to clean up the bar. "If you wipe that down, you can go home. I have a few more chores to do before I head home."

That was more or less true. While she did have a few more things to do, sweeping, looking at her stock, counting the money, she more-so just didn't want to go home. Her small apartment was nothing but lonely to her, and she had next to nothing to do there. Therefore, she spent most of her time in the tavern, taking her time on any chore to get it done right, and to whittle the time down.

Kathrine grabbed the key to the back room from behind the counter and went to the back room. This was where she kept spare bottles of alcohol in case she was running low, and in the way back, her cleaning supplies. She grabbed a broom and dust pan before stepping back out of the closet like space. Kathrine had always preferred getting all the cleaning and chores done before leaving. Her dad always had them come in before the work day started to clean, but by then any stains and messes were stuck onto the counters, and it took twice as long to clean up. In her bar, Kathrine would never have it that way.

Jacob Barrett,

You have been enlisted into the ranks of the Reaper police force. You will be deployed into the Epsilon rank, enforcing law and order in the Omega district. You may or may not be given a weapon to use in your enforcement efforts. Your tasks will be given to you by the Epsilon Chief whose name will not be briefed for security purposes. You will know him by Chief and refer to him so.

As soon as you sign these papers, you waive all rights to the Golden State. You will work for us and do what we say; you will become our property. You will comply with all terms in this paper or you will be demoted or executed based on the severity of the crime. The basic terms are listed below.

1. You have no rights. The Golden State has complete control over Reapers. By signing this paper you waive all your rights away.
2. Your house will be sold to another person of your caste. You will relocate to an area closer to your work location. You may not revisit your old home or leave your appointed position without direct and written permission.
3. You will form no social or emotional attachments with anybody outside of the Reaper ranks. You may not form emotional attachments with anybody in the ranks either; however, social links with other Reapers is permissible to work peacefully together.
4. You will not share information about the Golden State or the Reaper ranks.
5. These are the most basic terms, or the Essential Four. For a complete list of rules, refer to the handbook given to you after signing this paper. The Golden State has all rights to edit, add, or remove any rules in the handbook and this legal binding paper.

As an Epsilon Reaper, you will be given access to very basic information from the Golden State’s database. All of your amenities will be provided for you; therefore you will receive no pay in this rank. You will be given 2 sick days a year, but no personal days. You will work for a minimum of 12 hours a day. If you fail to comply with these terms, or any terms in your handbook, you will either be demoted or executed based on the severity of your crime.

-The Golden State

Sign Here: ________________________________________

Jacob signed the paper.

“Here’s the handbook. You are expected to read through it tonight so that you will be prepared for basic training. You will be evaluated for a month based on your performance and adherence to standards. At the end of the month you will either be executed or continue your job as a Reaper. Your book states what time you need to be where tomorrow morning for your first day of work. The address of your new house is on the front cover of the book. See you tomorrow morning for your first day of basic training,” Chief announced. “Please follow me out the door and to the train station. You are expected to walk home; the trains aren’t running anymore,” he added.

Jacob followed Chief out the door, located his new address, and walked home along the train tracks. Once at his new address, James located the single bedroom in the small house, noted the loosened security in it, and went to bed.

Adrianna quickly noted the fact that Verity was in distress. It was obvious why. Adrianna had blundered. If an Alpha asked an Omega their name, it meant nothing good. So Adrianna paused and considered her next words. "Verity... that's a pretty name. Don't worry Verity, you're not in trouble. Actually, I just want to ask you a question, then you're free to go..." Adrianna paused. Why was she doing this? It wasn't typical of her. She was more careful then this. But she continued, nonetheless. "Verity, do you think there can be a world where we all live equally? The Alphas, and the Betas, and the Omegas?" Adrianna mentally sighed. She was being stupid.

But she would make a world like this, and she wanted to know if the Omegas had the will to help make it happen. There was the Insurgency, but she needed to see what the common people thought. She wanted to know if Verity could see such a world, if any of them could. Maybe Adrianna was the only one. Maybe it was just a pipe-dream, something that could never happen. But Adrianna would try. And tomorrow, she planned on making her first official move towards equality. Tomorrow the Inner-Circle was meeting, and she was going to test the waters.

"Verity... that's a pretty name." No one had ever told her anything about her name. Let alone complimenting it. Well, at least she wasn't in trouble, that gave her a shred of confidence back. She knew she had done everything right, if there was one thing Verity was good at, it was obeying. She couldn't even hear the shuffling of servants over the pounding of her heart in her chest. Breathe girl, breathe! she thought. A few deep breaths later and her heart was still pounding, though not so much as before. The Alpha had certainly given her a serious scare. Verity wondered if she had meant to scare her. She had heard that certain Alphas relied on fear to frighten Omegas into submission and keep them in line. She had even heard some Alphas were known to take Omega girls and... She shook the thought from her head. No reason to think those thoughts now, besides, she was being asked a question anyway.

"Verity, do you think there can be a world where we all live equally? The Alphas, and the Betas, and the Omegas?" This was certain to be a trick question, a classmate in trade school had fallen for this almost exact question. Thankfully, Verity remembered the correct answer as given by Mr. Petrov of the Trade Institute.

"No, because by their very nature Alphas are superior and made to lead, while by our very nature Omegas are fit only to serve and obey!" She parroted as cheerfully as possible in a surprisingly sing-song voice.

"Will that be all, miss?"

After that unruly fight, it seems like time just passed on rather quickly, then all of a sudden it was almost closing time.

"Close all these damn windows, they're letting the bugs in." Kathrine instructed, he walks over and closes the windows and swats away the bugs.
"If you wipe that down, you can go home. I have a few more chores to do before I head home." she then said, John knows that she likes being in this bar and not in her dinghy room. John would've offered to stay a bit longer but he knew Kathrine liked some alone time so he said, alright. Grabbing the rag mid air he begins to wipe down the places in the bar which seemed dirty.

After a while, he sighed and wiped the sweat off his forehead, getting his jacket he said a quick "Alright I'll be seeing you tomorrow Kathrine" he shouted and motioning a wave towards her. Walking out, he shivered a bit, "Damn it's kinda cold" he thought to himself. Walking to his home, he then sees a reaper, "Weird Reapers aren't usually around this area" but simply shrugging it off, he enters his home and jumps on his bed, quickly dislodging his shoes and jackets, he then read the note. Tomorrow huh, It might work out well, well better than Last time. Thinking these thoughts he finally drifted off to sleep.

Jacob woke up to the sound of his alarm. Last night, he had set it to go off at the ungodly hour of 4:00 so that he could read his handbook before he went to basic training. Jacob crawled out of his bed and stayed in his sleep garments as he had four hours of sleep and wasn’t quite ready to do anything worthwhile. He made his way over to his desk where the cheaply made paper handbook was resting. Jacob opened up the book to page one and began reading.

Basic Training for Recruits:

The day after you receive this handbook is considered your first day of hell—basic training. You will make your way to the following address each morning for the next month and be there promptly at 8:00.

Omega Quarters
5572 Bronze CT 72063
Warehouse 237

Here you will practice how to collect information from others and use it to bring them down. You will learn how to observe a large crowd and identify people that may be involved in something. You will practice confronting individuals, and most importantly, you will learn how to serve the Golden State.

Flip to the next page to start the next section, an extended list of rules.

Jacob flipped the page to see that it started off with the Essential Four.

1. You have no rights. The Golden State has complete control over Reapers. By signing this paper you waive……

He continued to read the rest of the handbook.

When he finished, his clock read 7:00, leaving him plenty of time to get ready and walk to his training facility. Jacob put on a Reaper uniform (already in his closet), brushed his teeth, fixed his hair, popped in some contacts, and headed out the door for day one of hell.

When he arrived at the building, his watch read 7:48. He had arrived 12 minutes early. This’ll leave a good first impression, Jacob thought to himself. He entered through the back door of the warehouse, as per the instructions in the rulebook, and saw who he assumed to be Chief.

“Attending for basic training, Sir!” Jacob stated.

“You’re early. When you are early we have reason to suspect that you are not spending your time effectively. Rule 38. When a Reaper is not busy, he will spend his time either practicing his skills or analyzing data in the State’s database. You are early, implying that you were not using your time effectively. The 12 minutes that you arrived early are 12 minutes wasted. Your booklet read 8:00. That means exactly. Not a minute early, not a minute later. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” Jacob replied.

“Well with that we will begin basic training. Today you will go to hell and back, forcing your body to go to extremes for my own personal satisfaction. Today is the first step in proving that you are worthy for this position. Do you understand?” shouted Chief.

“Yes sir,” Jacob shouted just as loud.

And with that message of conformation, Jacob went to hell. For 7 hours he did nothing but exercise. No, not exercise. Training. He did hundreds of pushups, ran ten miles, performed hundreds of sit ups, ran another five miles, did basic hand to hand combat (losing each time), and vomited multiple times throughout the day. His arms and legs would’ve felt better if they were chopped off and his body was on the verge of lethal dehydration. His body had gone to hell and back but his brain was no more adapt in the skill of identifying suspicious individuals.

The remaining hour of the day consisted of building the body back up and preparing it for the next day; Jacob got to rest, eat, and drink while learning about the physical limits of the body.

“Today was not a day of learning. Today was not meant to benefit you. Reapers do more patrolling than physical work 99% of the times. Today was a day to prove to me that you are capable of becoming a Reaper. The next 6 days of basic training will be a repeat of today. If you can get through hell you will start mental training and awareness. You will learn how to handle situations and bring down those you don’t deserve a life in the State. You have done well today. You are dismissed.”

Jacob didn’t know if he was relieved or mortified. The day was over, but he still had to walk home carrying a body that could barely support itself. But Jacob had to get his shit together. This was all part of hell and he had to get through it. He lifted himself up and half walked, half crawled his way out the door. He managed to see a grin on Chief’s face on the way out.

The second he got out the door he collapsed. The time on his watch now read 16:30, and he had to get home fast if he wanted any sensible amount of sleep tonight. He once again pried himself off the dirt road, vomited once more, stood up, and fell right back into his vomit. There was no way he was going to get home. There was no way at all. His body was in hell and for all he knew he was already dead.

Chief walked out of the warehouse.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Sir my body is too weak. I can’t do this.” Jacob said weakly.

“Are you admitting defeat recruit?!”

“No sir.”

“Then get your ass off of this ground before I drop you from the ranks!” yelled Chief.

“Sir yes sir!”

The walk home was painful. The walk home was cruel. The walk home was hell. But this is what it took to become a Reaper. And Jacob needed to prove himself if he ever wanted to find out what happened to his parents. He needed to prove himself fast, and he needed to prove himself now after the pitiful demonstration outside the warehouse. But Jacob was considerably lucky. And this might be his chance.

Jacob saw a man, obviously not of Omega caste, wandering through the streets. It was 16:45 now, the man wasn’t from this caste, and he shouldn’t have been here. Jacob made his way over to the man.

“Excuse me sir. Would you be ever so kind as to tell me why a Beta is strolling through Omega streets during working hours?”

As he strolled down the sidewalk, Matthew let himself relax a little. There were far less cameras in the Omega Quarters because the Golden State wasn’t worried about an uprising taking place among the masses. The majority of the Omegas were too wrapped up in their own lives to even bother thinking about overthrowing the government. When it came to the caste system, the Golden State had it down to an art. The controlling Alphas implemented a tri-level class structure, which was the safest form to ensure their reign. In this system, the three classes each had a main goal: the highest wanted to keep their power; the middle wanted to take over and become the highest class, itself; and the lowest were kept sedated with alcohol, night clubs, and other simple pleasures to present them with false happiness so they would mind their own business. To keep their iron grip on the power, the upper caste heavily monitored the middle, which was most likely to rebel, and partially examined the lower, which didn’t pose much of a threat. It was fiendishly brilliant.

All the more reason to bring the government down, Matthew thought bitterly.

He glanced over the surrounding Omega slums. War-torn tenements framed the street on either side, casting long shadows across the fractured asphalt. He occasionally spotted a few Omegas peeking out of the windows. They looked terrified of him and immediately flung their curtains shut when he caught their eyes. He couldn’t blame them though. It was highly unusual for a Beta to be in the Omega Quarters at any hour. The Alpha controllers frowned upon it. Matthew wanted to shout to the Omegas that he was on their side; that he wanted to help them and make things better. Knowing this was impossible, he instead ran a frustrated hand through his sandy blonde hair and fixed his eyes on the cracked sidewalk.

5569 Bronze CT 72046

Matthew recited the address in his mind. He checked his watch again. 16:40. He had twenty minutes to find this place and recruit its owner. Scanning the street signs he passed, he searched for Bronze CT. He hoped it wasn’t too far away from the train station so he would have enough time to make it back without sprinting. He wasn’t out of shape or anything; he just didn’t want to get caught on any hidden cameras. Running to or from anywhere was as suspicious as it gets, since every Beta was expected to be punctual. It didn’t help that he was on a fake mission in the Omega Quarters and was trying to avoid drawing attention to himself.

Up ahead, he saw it: the street sign was layered with dirt and grime, but Matthew clearly read “Bronze CT” underneath. He quickened his pace just a bit, fixing his jade eyes on the filthy sign. He wanted to get to this place as quickly as he could without looking too anxious. His mind filled with random thoughts about how he was going to approach the proprietor, what he would say, how he would get out of there and make it back to the station by 19:00…

He almost didn’t see the Reaper.

Next to the side of a tenement, a terrifyingly familiar flash of black and dark red caught Matthew’s eye. He knew that uniform anywhere. He visibly slowed his pace, then realized how obvious that was and sped up just slightly, praying to whatever god would listen that the Reaper didn’t notice his mistake. It seemed the heavens were not on his side this time, because the Reaper began to approach him.

There was something off about his gait, Matthew noticed. It was almost as if the Reaper was wounded, but who would dare to attack one of them? That was mutiny of the highest degree. A guaranteed way to get yourself executed, or, as the common citizen would say, you would “disappear”. Matthew tried to calm his racing heart, hoping the rapid blood flow wouldn’t turn his cheeks pink. The Reapers were trained to notice such minute details. He forced himself to present a calm exterior as the black-and-red clad man scrutinized him.

“Excuse me sir. Would you be ever so kind as to tell me why a Beta is strolling through Omega streets during working hours?”

Matthew was taken aback at the politeness of the Reaper’s tone. He inwardly let out a breath of relief. This Reaper was quite obviously new to the ranks, so Matthew could handle him easily. Fresh Reapers were always a nervous bunch, not used to giving orders after so many years of receiving them. If Matthew challenged him – just a little push – he could get away without any trouble. He cleared his throat and met the Reaper’s gaze.

“My shift ended at 16:00, sir,” Matthew said. His words were respectful, but his voice held a hint of an edge. “I’m working on an extra assignment given to me by Alpha Linville. There was a printing error in the New Information Department, and he gave me the job of collecting the misprinted copies. I’m to be back at the train station by 19:00, so if you’ll kindly excuse me.”

Matthew waited. He could have just simply walked past the Reaper, but he knew the young ones were always jumping at the chance to prove themselves. This man would most likely want to report back to his superiors that he was in control of the situation the whole time. So, Matthew waited to let the Reaper give him permission to leave.

Adrianna was disappointed by Verity's answer, but not surprised by it. This was how the Alphas kept control. They made the Omegas not only thing that there was no escape from oppression, but that oppression was their destiny. It would be hard to take down an unfair government if the people who had it worse off were happy about it, but Adrianna promised herself she would change things. So Adrianna decided to tell Verity the truth she believed in. "I'll tell you a secret, Verity. I think you're wrong. You Omegas all think we're destined to lead, but we're not. We may have a higher IQ, but that's just a number. I think you Omegas are truly strong, because you can smile even though you have it so bad." Adrianna smiled at Verity. "You're dismissed, but think about what I just told you, okay?" Adrianna turned down the hall and walked away. Dinner was probably getting cold.

The meal satisfied Adrianna, and she spent the rest of the evening dealing with business. She signed papers, answered call, and did her best to deal with the fallout from the meeting earlier in the day. By the time she got everything done, it was late, and she was even more exhausted then when she first got home. She headed to her room. For now she would sleep, but tomorrow she was prepared to make her first move, even if it did mean she was risking her position in the government. After all, if she couldn't do anything, what would be the point of helping the Insurgency?

Verity could sense the disappointment on the alpha's face. Disappointed that she wouldn't get to punish Verity or disappointed that Verity got the question wrong? What little colour remained in the girl's face drained right back out again. How did this happen, Verity thought to herself. She had remembered the answer exactly! How did she mess up? Was it not a trick question? No.. that was never true. No one ever really cared what an Omega thought, let alone an Alpha. Well if she had messed up, it was no one's fault but her own....

"I'll tell you a secret, Verity. I think you're wrong. You Omegas all think we're destined to lead, but we're not. We may have a higher IQ, but that's just a number. I think you Omegas are truly strong, because you can smile even though you have it so bad."

Verity was shocked. In a good way of course, she almost risked a smile but thought that was seriously pushing her already thin luck. She felt a swell of pride in her chest and all of her worries were buried under the crushing weight of her laughably small self-pride.

"You're dismissed, but think about what I just told you, okay?"

The servant nodded enthusiastically and practically skipped down the hall towards the servants' quarters. Her duties now done, she planned to catch some sleep while on a quite positive note. However she couldn't help but wonder why Miss Fields had told her those things. It's not like she was unique. Was it just that she was conveniently there? Randomly selected in a twist of fate? Maybe she would find out tomorrow, maybe she would not. It didn't really matter to Verity. She was simply satisfied it happened. The girl privately smiled as she gathered her simple nightclothes and went to change. Mikael made a comment about how Verity was looking quite good this evening and she brushed it off with a shrug as Mikael trying to fluster her. After all, she wore the same nightclothes every day and it's not like she did anything different. Maybe it was that lingering pride she had within herself.