Nukledeus

Chloé still couldn't believe it. She knew the arkian judicial system was unfair and hasty but the Temple had really outdone itself. She had even been accused of being Daphné the bloodthirsty, even though they had seen Daphné's body. The "witnesses", all prominent clergymen, had explained that there was no evidence that Chloé's twin sister had committed the wrongdoings attributed to the rebel and that Chloé herself might have used her military training and weapons to perpetrate these acts with impunity. It made no sense. Why would her hierarchy have given her command of an entire squadron of soldiers if they suspected her like that?

Just a few hours after their capture, while Fergus was probably on his way to the Materna, she had walked through the Forbidden Gates, entering the heart of the sanctuary in order to serve her sentence: one year of Penance. According to her judges, she was lucky to have escaped the Life Sentence.

The Dome looked nothing like what she had imagined when listening to the teachings of the priests. Anyone would think that they had never set foot inside, which was probably the case since only the dying people, the penitents and the convicts were supposed to approach Nukledeus. And of course, the corpses, piled up on top of one another, awaiting the Reunification ceremony while decomposing in small overheated rooms.

Everything was petty, even the light. The fellow inmates had to fight to get a few spoonfuls of a disgusting porridge that they swallowed in secret, away from prying or envious eyes. They stripped the weakest and left them, barely alive, on the hard floor so they could seize and share the additional rations. The hot air, saturated with smells of urine, excrement and sweat, had the pungent scent of death. It was impossible to have a wash, use of the precious water was restricted and only available to the living citizens, the respectable arkians who did not pass through the gates of this hell.

Nukledeus, ever so close, provided energy for the whole city except the sanctuary. The lack of light and air conditioning, the deplorable living conditions in addition to despair drove those who lived here for too long to madness.

When she had first entered the sanctuary, Chloé had discovered that the glow that shone down on Ark City during daytime was not Nukledeus' light, but was generated by a power plant. It only diffused a wan flickering in the sanctuary, where the rejects of society had been gathered up.

The real meteorite was enclosed in a sarcophagus that had been deeply buried under the sanctuary. The young woman had quickly understood that it was necessary to avoid entering this place at all costs. Here, Nukledeus was not a God but he had the power to kill nonetheless. Occasionally, The convicts had to carry the dying people there when the pain became too strong, and they brought back the corpses of the previous ones. They also came back with more and more tumors. Nobody could survive the radiation from Nukledeus for long.

On the other hand, the penitents' duties were mainly related to maintaining the power plant while making sure to stand as far away from the radioactive core as possible. Unlike the convicts, they hoped to be released and leave this place one day and therefore forced themselves to wear safety suits despite the unbearable heat inside the sanctuary.

Chloé, on her own initiative, had decided to take care of the dying people. She refused to participate in the maintenance of the facilities. She felt that the task she had assigned to herself was at least as important and as unrewarding as any other, however, providing relief to the weakest gave her a sense of comfort and gave a purpose to the never-ending hours of her penitence.

Along with the convicts, she only wore a light shirt. The marks on her skin had grown, their irregular contours and looks left no doubt. The lack of chimiocs during her time outside the city had triggered her cancer. Colette's face when she had examined Chloé had compelled the latter to face the truth. Doctor Liston, even if she had been able to meet him, would have been as powerless.

In between treatments for the dying and sick people, Chloé was mulling over the doctor's name. She was certain she had heard it previously, and not only during the scandal following the suspension of his trial a few years earlier. At that time, he had been accused of supplying the Shadow Girls with chimiocs.

Chloé then remembered where and when she had first heard this name: Nicolas Liston, Daphné's companion. The one she was in love with and for whom she had crossed the line to step into illegality. Daphné the bloodthirsty, her sister, had created her own legend for a stupid love story. Yet, all arkians learned from childhood that it was wrong to have feelings and strong emotions. In the temple, novices flogged themselves for less than that. Chloé had struggled against this deviance for the longest time, whereas Daphné had always embraced it with fearsome devotion until she reached the point of no return.

Now that she was serving her sentence as a penitent, Chloé had plenty of time to reflect on the past and look back on her life. She had experienced anger, hatred, jealousy, despair, friendship, respect... All she needed was love to reach her sister's level of supreme deviance. Perhaps she had felt the first signs when she was with the No-lights who had been so kind to her, Fergus, Torgny, Olek, even Nikodem who had agreed to help her despite the danger. She had abandoned them, or had unmistakably be their undoing.

In her eyes, there was nothing worse than betraying those who had saved her, fed her, cared for her, and risked everything for her. She had thus concluded that she deserved her punishment, that she had to accept her fate. This brought her a peace of mind and a new lucidity. Resuming her work, Chloé stood up to go and filter out the soiled water (some drinking water she had been able to spare) after washing the last patient.

A deafening noise disturbed the quiet et muffled atmosphere of the makeshift hospice in the sanctuary. The whole building seemed to shake and quake with the heavy blows struck on the Forbidden Doors. One of the doors gave way, opening violently and with a loud crash, even partially coming out of its meticulously oiled hinges. Flying debris were falling down on the closest people.

The penitents and the convicts froze. Chloé dropped her basin with the dirty water she had been about to filter. An empty space appeared around her, where the yellowish puddle was getting wider. However, the sound of the container falling on the ground shook the most alert people out of their stupor and as one, they were overwhelmed with panic. They ran in all directions to look for a shelter or an improvised weapon, soon joined by their fellow inmates.

However, the intruders paid little attention to them. Arkian soldiers and Outcasts were engaged in a violent battle. Chloé recognized some Capitans and even Noah, their leader, but they all disappeared into the fray, trying to fight off the human tide that wanted to destroy Nukledeus.

She then heard the barely audible sound of the sliding doors giving access to the small rooms. People were trying to hide among the corpses. Chloé found this thought repulsive and it gave her an idea: if the arkians found the smell and the sight inside the small rooms unbearable, those were a formidable weapon against the Outcasts, more accustomed to clean air and fresh flesh.

She leaped towards the sliding doors and issued orders, hoping to be obeyed even though none were part of her squadron. The penitents, distraught, followed her instructions and Chloé heaved a sigh of relief, she somehow still had her authority. With remarkable efficiency, they pulled out entire carts of corpses and dumped their content onto the ground to create a barricade.

The smell that spread across the battlefield was revolting and Chloé was pleased with the outcome. However, she had not anticipated the brownish liquid leaking out on the floor and causing the fighters to retreat. She then realized that this was the product of body decomposition. The corpses that were rotting in the sanctuary, waiting their turn for Reunification, were not eaten up by scavengers, either animals or insects, but eaten away from within by gastric acids that digested first the viscera and then the flesh.

Within moments, Outcasts and soldiers left the spot. With the door of freedom still wide open, the prisoners of the temple rushed into the streets of Ark City, after having built a makeshift bridge in order to cross the puddle of acid that had saved them.

Chloé wasn't in such a hurry to get out of that shelter after all. The presence of Outcasts in the heart of Nukledeus' sanctuary did not bode well. Before leaving, she searched the bodies of fighters, friends or foes, to find proper protective equipment as well as weapons. Finally satisfied, she left the temple without looking back and without a glance for Noah and the few Capitans who had died during the assault.