Nukledeus

Left alone in the pub, Chloé gazed at her empty glass. The bottle, within arm's reach, contained no more than a few drops, which were not worth the effort to drink them. She ordered another bottle, she only drank out of habit nowadays. She didn't feel any kind of intoxication and it had been a long time since alcohol had filled the gap inside her. A part of herself was missing, Daphné was dead, nothing could take her place.

Ever since Chloé saw the lifeless corpse of her twin sister, she became obsessed by this image and the memory haunted her day and night. To drive out her demons, she tried to remember the happy and carefree days of their childhood. Daphné had always been the one leading their "dances" at that time. Always up to some mischief, she was the driving force for both twins as well as their friends. Even back then she had been bold, daring and reckless, leaping in the middle of dangerous situations, taking more and more risks for the thrill, always striving to stand out and think outside the box. She was a wild leader but people followed her blindly, her charm and charisma overshadowed everything, even the most basic self-preservation.

At that time, the young Chloé was happy to go with the flow, sometimes taking over in her sister's stead to keep her out of trouble.

Times had changed, however. Chloé was now leading her own squadron of the Elite Police, she held a high-ranking position. One could not climb higher in the hierarchy of her government office without taking vows and serve Nukledeus in the temple. If she briefly considered it when she was younger, her current ambition seemed to be nonexistent, lost in oblivion. For the past year, she had been listless, unconcerned by anything. She seemed unable to get on with her life and gradually gave up the fight.

It had been almost ten years since the twins separated, living in two different worlds, one lived bathed in Nukledeus' light, the other in the shadow, bound to stay in the darkness. Chloé invariably kept herself informed about the attacks attributed to the Shadow Girls. She didn't feel ashamed, not anymore. She had finally accepted her sister's choice. Time went by and each one led her life as she saw fit, until a year ago.

Chloé usually met her friends for dinner at the Capitans' pub and they sometimes recounted stories about the No-Lights but nobody talked about Daphné, ever.

Among the arkian No-Lights, the Shadow Girls belonged to the most active rebel groups. Not a single week went by without an assault, breaking in a ministry or a temple. The religious dignitaries comprised the majority of the political leaders and shared the responsibilities according to utterly obscure rules. The Shadow Girls fought actively, with everything they got, against this control and monopoly of power. Unlike some other No-Light groups, they didn't settle for attacking or destroying buildings or stealing basic goods, they could boast to have to their name several successful bombings with numerous casualties as well as murders of distinguished VIPs.

Over the years, they had acquired an undeniable and disreputable fame that greatly worried the authorities. Without their extreme activism, which frightened many, their popularity could even have changed the political scene. People knew some of their names, the most famous was Mona, their leader, and Bertille who never missed an opportunity to stand out. Gossips also attributed to Daphné the preparation and organization of a massive attack as well as several murders but these assumptions remained unverified. People feared her and, in the city, her name was spoken only in a low voice for fear of provoking her wrath. Bloody Daphné, such was her infamous nickname.

On the night of Daphné's death, Chloé was sleeping before taking the night shift. The squadron led by Gili was coming back from a quiet patrol when her soldiers spotted a stealthy shadow escaping from an alley. Gili sent two sections in the same direction as the suspicious fugitive and led the rest of her squadron to check the alley.

As soon as Gili recognized Daphné, the spitting image of her friend, lying in the rubble, she hurried to warn Chloé, leaving her job and her responsibilities to her second-in-command. Pounding the door, she woke her friend up and brought her to the grim alley, then the mortuary. The Ministry of Justice was buzzing with turmoil but silence, like a lead weight, descended upon the crowd as soon as Chloé and Gili arrived, casting a pall over the heated debates.

Chloé knew for certain that a lot of people were delighted over Daphné's death and would celebrate this victory at the Capitans' pub. Ever since that time, she only visited the pub at some ungodly hours and carefully avoided her former acquaintances. Only Gili stayed by her side but her support, her dedication and her loyalty were rather poorly rewarded.

The investigations produced nothing, a dead end. Nobody knew who fled after sighting the patrol. The conclusions of the autopsy were concealed and no one could gain access to the files. However, Gili still managed to collect some information, off the record, hinting that Bloody Daphné had suffered a terrible death. Chloé already knew. She clearly saw her twin's face distorted by agonizing pains, even in death.

Other gossips suggested that it was a well deserved divine retribution. Nukledeus punished the No-Lights for using counterfeit chimiocs, bereft of sanctification by the priests. According to the Temple's religious teachings, the chemicals comprising every chimiocs treatment had to be refined by the Blessing in order to transmute into life hydrolat. Chloé was hardly convinced by the religious creeds, however she knew better than to disclose her doubts to anybody, even Gili.

The belated arrival of a new bottle briefly stirred her out of her reverie. She refilled her glass and swallowed another draft of gin before sinking back into her psychological hell. She repeated over and over that, ten years before, she couldn't possibly anticipate that things would take a turn for the worse. However, deep down, she knew it was a lie. The path Daphné chose led invariably to disaster. However, after so many years, Chloé was able to understand that her sister persisted until she reached the end of her thirst for Freedom and Absolute. Her life of adventures and excesses befitted her flawlessly. She just deserved a more glorious and exalted death. She would definitely remain Chloé's heroine forever.

Reassured, Chloé left the pub and went home to get ready for work. Her shift started at first light, before the official dawn. Outside, the morning mists enshrouded the city. A cold dampness, soon driven away by the scorching heat which would strike Ark City a little later, brought a real relief. Everything was quiet. Still an hour away from the beginning of a brand new day. Chloé had enough time to go to the Worship Square to meditate and get her fill of chimiocs. In this muffled atmosphere, life itself seemed insubstantial. A dream or maybe a bad nightmare. Walking slowly in the sleeping city, the young woman returned to her usual aloofness and steeled herself to face her duty as leader and police officer.