CHANGES
I'll see you in 2000 years.
- Year 867, somewhere underground:
[Thirteen years after the world was destroyed by Titans]
He is racing through the alleys, running for his life. It's actually pretty fun, really. Cutting corners, jumping boxes, looking high and low for a better escape route, thinking on his feet. Those guards were actually in need of some exercise. It seems like the newer technological advancements implemented in the last thirteen years have made them soft. The teen boy can count only five guards or so, so far. ‘I can lose them,’ he thinks.
Far below Paradise Island’s wealthy capital, Mitras, stands The Underground, the city of the lost. Cramped and damp buildings fill up those underground streets like a tangled maze; but the teenage boy already knows his way by heart. The guards whistle loudly as they run, bringing the attention of onlookers. The older and unfit men are having trouble trying to keep up with the teenager's speed. In the crowded market, spectators watch as the boy rushes by and the young children cheer as the teen successfully outruns the unpopular Police Guard. The boy is quite charming, and has already fallen in the graces of the underground people.
A hundred metres below the surface, The Underground City is marked by poverty and violence; and with quite limited rays from the sun to light one’s path. Nonetheless, it is the place this young boy has called home, at least for the past three years. The teen is indeed charming, and quite clever for his age. He continues to run, easily evading the old policemen. The brand-new radio equipment seems not to be working. Probably out of range so far underground. No response, no reinforcements. The boy stops, leaning on a wall, in a smaller alley; panting, quite excited, trying to better control his breathing. He looks around tactically. There are no signs of those guards, just pure silence. Maybe he can breathe safely now, and just keep going. The teen goes back to walking, leisurely crossing back into the market. But never underestimate your enemies. And don't forget the power of the good old vocal cords. It seems that shouting is still effective, and not out of range; and so is the old police whistle. There they come again, he can count eight, perhaps ten now. The teen sprints once more as the guards shout and fire their whistles incredibly loudly after him. The boy smiles.
A commotion is already forming on the large market streets as they all come again, all racing through The Underground City. While the unfit men seem to struggle in the chase, a sharply dressed man is following the teen in a calmer way; for he also knows The Underground well. The man looks around the familiar market with his one working eye. The other is covered by an eyepatch that cleverly matches his gloves and stylish cane. The guards continue on the erratic and mindless chase while the well composed man begins predicting where the boy is most likely going. He looks up, analysing the city streets, he follows the slopes with his eye, calculating the teenager’s path in his mind. He then proceeds to leisurely walk through the obscure alleys with the objective of intercepting the boy.
A commotion is already forming on the large market streets as they all come again, all racing through The Underground City. While the unfit men seem to struggle in the chase, a sharply dressed man is following the teen in a calmer way; for he also knows The Underground well. The man looks around the familiar market with his one working eye. The other is covered by an eyepatch that cleverly matches his gloves and stylish cane. The guards continue on the erratic and mindless chase while the well composed man begins predicting where the boy is most likely going. He looks up, analysing the city streets, he follows the slopes with his eye, calculating the teenager’s path in his mind. He then proceeds to leisurely walk through the obscure alleys with the objective of intercepting the boy.
The boy continues to cleverly count the amount of guards as he runs away from them. He has counted fifteen foes in total. The teen crosses yet into another alley, knowing for sure he has evaded them for good now. He is looking towards the larger market street, confirming he has finally lost that idiot crew. That's when he hears that old, quite reprimanding voice. The teen recognises it immediately, the voice belongs to his dear-old Uncle Levi. “I knew this would happen,” the uncle says. “Eventually.”
The retired Survey Corps Captain is at the end of the street. He starts to walk closer, in full domain and style - with a cane he doesn’t seem to need, but enjoys wearing on his walks. His face says it all: I told you so. There is no need for words. It's all deep within the disappointment, there, deep inside his one working eye. The boy is still running, now gently slowing down. Almost stopping, to meet his old man. Breathless, but still smiling, enjoying himself. A young soul looking for danger, curious about life, still searching.
“I told you not to go looking around, making noise,” Levi begins with his scolding, but his nephew doesn’t stop completely. “How many times do I have to explain to you the gravity of the situation that we are in?” The uncle continues, clearly vexed with the teen. Even more vexed to see how the young boy seems to be enjoying himself greatly. “We've been located, now we need to mov-”
“I'm already moving,” the teen cuts his uncle short, still running, gaining speed once again. Passing faster by his dear Uncle Levi, shooting up that street.
“Azzy!” Levi shouts back at him with strong admonishment and slight exasperation.
The boy was affectionately nicknamed Azzy, by his mother in his very young years. A nickname the Ackermann boy is trying to outgrow, but has been unsuccessful in the matter; ‘Azzy’ is only a couple of weeks shy of turning fifteen. He continues to run, gaining even more speed.
And at the end of the narrow and long street, he turns to cheekily wave goodbye to his uncle in the distance. “See you at dinner!” Azzy shouts cheerfully and quite charmingly. Levi sighs, he swiftly holds up his cane, considering his next move. He looks up to the endless city slopes again, he can hear the police whistles in the far distance.
Azzy stops once again, he gently notices all those sweet toys on a dark shop window, he is entranced by a cute girlish rag doll that seems to be smiling at him with her innocent green eyes. This street is also empty, the shops are all closed. Azzy takes out his pocket watch to check the time, he can still hear the policemen rush in the far distance. As he checks the time Azzy starts to feel that eeriness within once again, coming deep from his entrails. He can almost see from the corner of his eyes a reflection watching him on that shop window, it’s that witch once again. He abruptly looks up from his watch to face the monster, to show he is not scared of her, that he never was. But he sees nothing, only his own reflection. The street is completely empty. Azzy leans in, looking at those toys in that shop window once again. The rag doll is no longer smiling, perhaps she never was.
The silence in the street is pure, as Azzy tilts his head, entranced by the doll once again; the Ackermann boy can only hear his own breathing.
Suddenly multiple rocks are thrown, coming from behind him, and they completely shatter the shop window. The teen immediately curls and covers his face, protecting himself from the glass. He swiftly places his golden watch back into its pocket, afraid to lose it. Azzy looks around searching for the assailant but the street is completely empty, he is alone. The hunter has quickly hid himself into a dark alley. Azzy looks around, lost, he turns to the shattered window again, there are shards of glass all over the toys, including the sweet rag doll. The sharp shards are also all over the pavement and also all over his clothes. The teen cleans himself of the glass and continues to walk, looking for a good hiding spot; already fearing for his uncle’s scolding later that evening, once all this would have passed and they could finally sit for their customary dinner. The hunter watches him go, still hidden in the dark, with his sharp green eyes rapt on the boy.
Azzy is distracted; he looks back to that odd street for a moment, reflective, but turns once again as he sees the herd has caught up with him. He opens his blue eyes wide, already kicking up his feet and picking up speed in the other direction. The policemen shout once again, and their chase proceeds, the boy is very fast. They all let out curses under their breaths and continue to run after him.
The teenage boy runs as the curious underground citizens watch the exciting chase. He turns into a large street once again, filled to the brim, Azzy hopes the crowd will make those old fools lose sight of him. The boy is growing tired, not physically, but mentally, of that incessant old herd. Some of the more clever guards have decided to plan ahead, they are preparing to corner him. Other unfit ones are running closer, impressively, they are catching up with the teen. When one of them loses their footing, he has been inadvertently tripped by the Captain’s stylish cane. The man falls hard on the cobblestones, followed by three more, all falling in a domino effect. Levi is trying his best to avoid this threat without causing much trouble for him and the boy; trying to fix the situation in a subtle way. And also trying not to strive too fiercely against his fellow soldiers. But Azzy isn't exactly helping, from Levi’s view it seems the wayward nephew is thriving in that chase. The boy is causing quite a ruckus all over The Underground City, to the Captain’s dismay. Levi looks around as the boy disappears in the distant streets once again, he rolls his one working eye, annoyed.
The boy keeps running, enjoying the chase. A challenge at last. There are now fifteen soldiers or more, or at least that's what the teen has counted. Merchants are watching, people gossiping, kids are mesmerised and cheering. All happy. The teen is putting quite a show. While the uncle is becoming more upset, he has lost track of him. If things keep going this way he might need to properly fight these soldiers off, and he really doesn’t want to do that. The last thing he and his nephew need now is that kind of attention. Levi reaches down to feel his custom pistol under his coat, counting how many shots he has saved, considering his next steps. He can sense someone is watching him. Levi looks around the crowd, searching. ‘You’re here too, aren’t you?’ He thinks.
The boy is panting, still running. It has stopped being so fun, he is now considering the gravity of the situation for once. Azzy turns yet another corner into a larger, calmer street, with only a few kids happily playing. He slows down.
He observes them and also notices the simple people in their houses, going by their day. He focuses on a family: the father carving a piece of wood, sitting on an old crate by the rundown building’s door; the mother hanging clothes upfront as the small kids go by her and she caresses their heads. The father also greets the little ones as they enter the old building, a simple but happy family. All getting inside, getting ready to enjoy their modest supper. Azzy watches them from a distance, approaching closer. He quietly watches the simple family through the window as they prepare to sit for their supper; with a cold feeling deep on his insides. That feeling isn’t hunger, but his grief, and his desire to have the same. A simple but happy family. Azzy stops walking, he was getting too close, he doesn’t want to disturb their peace. The kids all chat with their parents, they are all so happy, so naive. The tired parents seem burned by life, but they also seem very happy with their three precious jewels.
Azzy stops completely, in the middle of that slum, he stares down into a small mud pool, one of many in that damp street. He stares down at his badly-lit reflection.
‘If Mum and Dad were here, what would they think?’ The boy considers, upset. He has very few memories of his parents. He knows a lot about them, but he never got to know them himself. He has only heard the many stories his uncle has told. Azzy could imagine them, he could dream about them; and hope to one day be like them. But his deepest wish is to actually one day meet them, somehow.
He sighs, stepping hard on the mud pool, destroying his reflection and continuing to walk without minding the slight splash on his leather boots. He walks slowly and looks back for a moment. ‘Uncle is right. We've been located, we‘ve been discovered. These people won't forget,’ the boy reflects.
“We need to move,” he lets out. “Again,” Azzy adds, feeling the annoyance of it all, it seems that persecution would never end, the Crown was restless. He continues to walk, contemplative. He has lost his sense of direction. The boy is now completely lost, unsure as to where he is going. He then comes across a very tall wall. Azzy stops, quite angry all of a sudden. The boy is still panting, he feels very upset. He looks up at the large wall of a building right in front of him, there’s no use trying to climb that. Not that he was thinking about it, the boy is too tired to even think. But he hasn’t given up, of course he hasn't. He turns to one side and to the other, to see a tall building to his right and another equally tall building to his left. He had distractedly walked into a corner.
The boy then hears the metal noises, and turns to his back once again. The policemen finally cornered him, he had been too distracted to notice. A few curious people come out of the windows of the two buildings around them and other onlookers come behind the policemen as well. The tallest guard, who seems to be in charge, makes gestures so some guards can gather around the boy, to be sure he is completely surrounded. The boy looks around, surprised. It seems in all that reflection he was unable to notice how the guards were gaining on him. The teen is completely cornered, with nowhere to go. Putting his hands up, he looks all those guards in their faces. Some show up in the buildings around, two in the right building, one in the left; at his back there's that large wall, right in front of him were eight guards and four more arriving, all with guns aimed - the fifteen he had counted before. There's no escaping it now. The teen keeps his hands up, still maintaining his cocky expression.
The tall guard gestures so some can position themselves behind the boy, even with that incredibly tall wall, he just wants to make sure the boy is completely surrounded, with absolutely no escape possible. Some of the guards seem somewhat nervous but most of them seem quite well prepared. The boy notices these guards are way better dressed and much better equipped than the simpleton soldiers he is used to seeing there in The Underground. They have much nicer uniforms and shinier weapons, all with the beautiful Royal insignia plastered across their chests and rifles. It seems the Royal Guards have come down from Mitras into the dirty steps of The Underground.
“You are all far away from the palace,” Azzy comments, and smiles. “Don’t move! You are surrounded.” The tall guard interjects.
“What are fancy Royal Guards doing in The Underground, I wonder,” the boy continues the taunt, with a hint of anger and showing no fear whatsoever.
The tall guard then gestures to the others to make sure they all have the boy in their aim. He then firmly adjusts his own rifle, pulling the heavy weapon up and aiming it at the boy.
“Her Majesty, The Queen, has a quarrel with you,” the tall man says, aiming his shiny rifle at the young boy with strong concentration.
“A quarrel?” the teen asks, bewildered, trying to hold in his laughs.
“Don't move!” The tall guard shouts again, ready to fire; staring at the boy in deep precision as his finger slowly leans over the trigger.
Levi is swiftly approaching, moving fast through the forming crowd that is gathering close to that alley. He pushes some of the curious citizens out of his way with his cane, his eye fixed on the guard’s rifle. He is terrified Azzy is about to be mercilessly shot, he loves that boy like he is his own son.
Azzy keeps his hands up as all the guards aim at him in that tense while. There's a moment of complete and eerie silence. The boy maintains his look of defiance as he stares the Royal Guards down, still with his hands up, Azzy is angry, he is tired of running. He can feel that anger boiling in his entrails.
Levi is quickly making his way to the front, with his hand firm on his small pistol, ready to shoot that damn guard before the idiot shoots his nephew. Levi is very angry and he, just like his nephew, is tired of running too. The eeriness of the quick while of silence is burning deep within those few witnesses. The Royal Guards are ready to attack.
.
Suddenly a flock of crows rises up fast over an old tower down the street, the flock clumsily brushes against the giant bell as they pass through the darkness of that rundown tower. The loud and haunting sound echoes throughout The Underground City, immediately calling the attention of all the guards and the other onlookers on that street. It is quite an eerie sight as the crows fly away from the tower. All flying high into the rocky ceiling, looking for the few ventilation shafts to pass through to the surface. All the witnesses stare at those birds and at the giant bell as it continues to slowly move and to slowly chime.
The chill in the air is palpable, like a ghost has just sent them its greeting. The whole eeriness doesn’t last more than two seconds.
And as the guards come back to their senses, and turn to look towards that alleyway once again, the boy has disappeared.
End of prologue - "The Chase"
The Old World
Part One: What Happened to Them?
Chapter One: "The Field"