Chapter 2: Jane
I drift into a restless sleep, my mind replaying the events of the day. The boundaries of reality blur, and I find myself in a nightmare that eerily mirrors my daily life in Omnibus Diem.
I wake up to the familiar sterile hum of the city, the pale light filtering through my government-issued gray blinds. But something feels off. The light is colder, harsher, casting long, unnatural shadows across my room. I spring out of bed, acutely aware of the minute of idle time allowed, but the air feels thick, almost suffocating.
I don my practical cotton uniform, but the fabric feels rougher, almost abrasive against my skin. As I fasten my sturdy boots, I notice the laces seem to writhe like living things. Shaking off the unsettling feeling, I exit my sleeping quarters and head towards the cibus praetorium.
Joining the orderly procession of Janes, we march towards the morning meal. The sound of unflavored, soggy oats being slopped into bowls and the clatter of spoons fills the air, but the noise is distorted, echoing unnaturally. My stomach growls, but the anticipation is tinged with dread. The routine, usually comforting in its predictability, now feels like a sinister ritual. As we sit at identical metal tables, I glance around at the sea of identical faces. Each Jane's expression is blank, but their eyes are hollow, lifeless. The air is thick with the silence of compliance, broken only by the occasional commands from the loudspeakers, which now sound distorted and menacing. Not a word is spoken throughout the entire meal, and eerie silence settles over the cibus praetorium.
After the meal, we merge with the Johns for our morning physical training. The synchronization of our movements, the sameness of our appearances, creates a chilling sense of uniformity. As we run our laps, I struggle to keep in time with the others. I speed up trying to stay with the group, but this causes me to stumble slightly out of formation. The instructor's head snaps in my direction, his eyes glowing with an unnatural green light. "Deviation will not be tolerated," he hisses, his voice echoing unnaturally. The enforcers descend upon me with brutal efficiency, their grips cold and unyielding. They drag me away, the world around me warping and distorting into black. I find myself in a dark, sterile room, the walls closing in. The enforcers' faces are twisted, grotesque masks of authority. They force me into a chair, strapping me down with cold, metal restraints. The room fills with a low, menacing hum, and I feel a sharp pain as needles pierce my skin. "Compliance ensures harmony," a voice whispers in my ear, cold and mechanical. The pain intensifies, and I feel my consciousness slipping away. The world around me fades to black, the oppressive silence swallowing me whole. “Compliance ensures harmony…”
I awaken with a start, my heart pounding in my chest, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my sheets and pajamas drenched in sweat. It was only a dream. I try to shake off the dream, but the nightmare clings to me, its tendrils weaving through my thoughts, a vivid reminder of the consequences of defiance. As I lay in the darkness, the sterile hum of the city filling my ears, I feel the cold grip of fear tighten around my heart. The nightmare plants a seed of doubt, a chilling reminder that any step towards rebellion is fraught with unimaginable peril. And yet, somewhere deep within me, the fragile spark of hope flickers, refusing to be extinguished entirely. For in the darkest depths of my nightmare, I have glimpsed a truth I cannot ignore. The road to freedom is treacherous, but perhaps it is the only path worth taking.
Unable to go back to sleep after the jarring nightmare, I lay in my uncomfortable bed until the speakers blare, signaling the start of another day in Omnibus Diem. The monotonous hum reverberates through my bones, dragging me from the remnants of restless dreams. Slower than usual, I push myself out of bed, my eyes heavy from the lack of sleep—a sensation entirely foreign to me until now. I get dressed in my uniform with the same mechanical precision as always, but today, the fabric feels even more unflattering and constrictive, as if it is actively working against me. Each button and seam is a reminder of the rigid structure that confines me. Still rubbing my eyes, I join the silent ranks of Janes heading to the cibus praetorium for another bland breakfast of lukewarm oatmeal. The mere thought of the mush sliding dryly down my throat makes me nearly gag, but the memory of Jane700432's punishment is enough to keep me silent and compliant.
I fall into line with the others, my blank expression mirroring theirs. The bowl fills with a sloppy splat, the sound reminiscent of something vile. A spoon clinks into the tray beneath it, and I grasp it, the cold metal sending a shiver up my spine. As I sit at a uniform table, I stare down at the grayish mush, fighting the urge to say anything. Without warning, a surge of rebellion takes hold. I stand abruptly, my chair scraping loudly against the floor, and simply leave the cibus praetorium. Shouts from the Obstetrics’ enforcers follow me, but I ignore them, my heart racing. Part of me wants to run back in, to apologize and beg for forgiveness, but the stronger part, the part yearning for freedom, compels me to keep moving.
I walk with purpose, my steps echoing in the deserted corridors. The usual hum of the city seems distant now, as if I’ve stepped into another realm entirely. I reach the edge of my sector, where a tall, ominous fence stands as the final barrier between me and the unknown. Beyond it, I see the dense outline of a forest, its dark canopy inviting in its mystery. I stand there, transfixed, the sounds of the city fading into the background. The air here is different—cleaner, filled with the scent of pine and earth. A solitary bird’s cry pierces the silence, making my heart ache with a longing I can’t fully understand.
Suddenly, a movement among the trees catches my eye. A red streak darts through the underbrush, too quick to identify clearly. I strain to see more, my curiosity piqued. The idea of something vibrant, something alive in this drab, controlled world is almost too much to bear. I see the red again, this time closer to the fence. It keeps bobbing in and it of sight, getting closer and closer, until it disappears behind a bush right before I can tell what it is. I turn away, only to hear a whisper. I turn back around and almost jump out of my skin. A John stands at the fence, but he’s wearing an odd-looking, brightly colored outfit blemished by dirt and grime, much different than the uniform I’m wearing. I realize that the streak of red I saw was his jacket. I look at him, mesmerized by his unkempt, shaggy hair, his lively dancing blue eyes, and the strange tribal markings on his face. Unable to do or say anything, I simply stare at him, mute. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but the shouts of oncoming enforcers scare him off. I reach towards the fence, reaching as if I am trying to grab him, make him stay with me.
As I stand there, contemplating my next move, hand still on the fence, the shouts of the enforcers grow louder behind me. Panic threatens to consume me, but I take one last deep breath, savoring the freedom that lies just beyond my reach. Whether I step back into line or find a way over this fence, I know my life will never be the same again.
In this moment, teetering on the edge of defiance, I realize that the spark of rebellion ignited by my nightmare can either be snuffed out or fanned into a flame. With my heart pounding and my mind racing, I make my choice, determined to see where the path of resistance might lead me.
I turn away from the fence, steeling myself for the enforcers' approach. The boy in the forest lingers in my mind, a symbol of what could be. For now, I must face the consequences of my actions, but the hope of a different future remains, flickering stubbornly in the depths of my being. As the enforcers close in, I feel a strange sense of calm wash over me. Whatever comes next, I know that I have taken my first step towards true freedom, and for the first time in my life, I feel truly alive.
The enforcers surround me, grabbing me roughly by my arms; as I’m dragged towards the Imperium Centrum, the main headquarters of the Obstetrics. I simply go limp, knowing that I must put on the best act of my life in order to survive what I am sure will come next.
