I quickly stand up, turn, and grab the tray. I rip it from his hands and slam it into his stomach, making him double over in pain.
Perfect position. I grab his head and shove it straight into my tray full of slop.
"Like that, you—!"
He elbows me in the chin, making me stumble back. Then he charges at me like a bull, face dripping with food, and lifts me like I'm a rag doll.
He carries me on his back for a moment, then slams me down onto another table. I slide across it, knocking over a dozen trays and getting covered in even more slop.
The people around us back away, forming a timid circle that quickly gains energy and becomes a crowd.
"Get him, Onyx!"
"Make some sparks, dude!"
"Who's betting? Who's betting?!"
Adults would probably stop us, but since they aren't here…
My attacker grabs me by the legs and drags me off the table. Before I hit the floor face-first, I manage to grip the edge of the table and kick him in the face.
The big guy stumbles backward and falls on his butt. It's funny enough to draw some laughter—and a few boos. The crowd starts shouting encouragement at him. I can't really make it all out; it's too loud.
"You piece of Conductor trash!" he yells, a war cry as he charges at me.
This time, I'm ready.
As soon as he lifts me onto his shoulders again, I start pounding on the back of his neck. He gets dizzy and throws me off—but I land on my feet.
I rush him and get a few hits in on his chest. He throws one or two back—his punches are heavier, so they hurt way more.
The fight drags on longer than it should. By now, someone should have stopped us.
"You two! Stop this!" a girl steps between us, and I'm both relieved and disappointed—I was kind of starting to enjoy it. "What's the meaning of this?"
Oh no. It's her. The Leader. But her mood's different—calmer, less pain in her eyes. What happened to her?
"He attacked me," I say, pointing a finger while rubbing my ribs.
"And do you have any proof that he—" she starts, but the big guy cuts her off.
"He's a Conductor! He should be dead—not walking around here!"
Sol freezes for a second—but just a second.
"That's enough! What you both did was wrong, and you're both going to pay for it."
"But I didn't do anything—"
"Both of you! Straight to detention!" She points toward the exit.
I open my mouth to argue, but you know what? Forget it. I'll take the detention. Can't be worse than another fight.
She leads the way, and I follow, still wearing my black uniform covered in food. As I cross the threshold of the mess hall, the white-haired girl grabs my arm and pulls me closer.
"Hey, what now?"
"A gift from the Commander. It's to help you control your electric powers," she says. She stops in front of a door. A scanner reads her face, and the door opens, releasing a horrible stench. "Here's detention. Good luck—both of you. Well, all three."
"You want us to clean this dump?" I ask, disgusted.
"Us?" says the big guy, just as confused.
"Yes. Do all the tasks. No fighting. And if you slack off, you'll be sent somewhere much worse."
She turns and walks away, leaving me, the giant, and this thing strapped to my arm.
I look at the big guy. He looks at me. For a moment, we share the same pain—no one likes dealing with garbage.
"What a load of crap," he mutters.
"Don't talk to me!" I snap. "Not a single word!"
As soon as we enter, the door shuts behind us, locking us inside a nearly pitch-black, rancid, sealed room.
Besides the sound of leaking pipes and the smell of trash piled in one corner.
Sanitation! How exciting!
The walls shake every time more waste flows through the pipes. It's like this whole place was patched together with duct tape and hope.
After spending a while trying to fix a leak between two joints—and getting completely covered in grime—I decide to take a break and rest. In the corner of the room, there's a dusty computer. That's where our task list is.
"Hey, you didn't finish cleaning that area!" says my delightful companion.
As if things weren't bad enough, I'm stuck in here with the guy who assaulted me for no reason and a talking watch that never shuts up.
"I know. But I'm done for now."
I sit in the computer chair and start poking around. Maybe there's a game to kill the boredom? Nope—just more spreadsheets. Great.
"If you think I'm doing your part too, forget it!" the big guy snaps.
"Come here, big guy." I stand up fast, crack my neck, and walk toward him like I'm picking a fight. "What's your problem with me? I've never done anything to you."
"You're a Conductor! And my name's not 'big guy'!"
"Oh, so it's Big Boy, then?"
"You—!" He grabs the broom handle like he's about to swing it.
"Friends!" says the voice from my wrist. "Don't fight! Otherwise, you'll be assigned even worse tasks."
Great. Can't even throw a punch to let off steam. I'd give anything for some kind of distraction right now. We've been here so long the awful smell and stinging in my eyes don't even bother me anymore.
We go back to our chores—sorting trash into bags, dumping them into specific bins. Fixing leaking pipes. Most of them I just tape up. Others, we have to replace entire sections.
Where all this trash goes is a mystery. Hopefully, somewhere very far away from here.
A few more hours pass, and even my companion looks tired now. The worst part of this heat? We're all stuck wearing black. I take off my shirt—I can't take it anymore.
"I'm about to burst into flames," I mutter, wiping sweat from my forehead with my shirt.
The big guy still doesn't trust me. He keeps his distance and gives me that look whenever I suggest anything—like I'm the enemy.
"Come on, I'm not gonna hurt you. Whatever you think about me, it's wrong. I'm a decent guy, alright?"
"You killed half your city," he says, frustrated. "Just to get those powers. I don't know what the Commander was thinking putting you here, but I don't accept it."
"Wait, she said I killed half my city?" Now I'm the one who's pissed.
"That's what I was told."
I walk up to him.
"Listen to me—I didn't do that. What happened was an accident, and I just got caught in the middle of it. Wrong place, wrong time."
He doesn't look totally convinced, but I can tell I've got his attention. This guy's too trusting. His eyes say it all.
We talk. At first, he resists, but eventually, he listens. When I start telling him how I got that strange lightning sphere, he bombs me with questions. I think I'm earning his trust—and that tells me something: this guy takes everything at face value.
That's good for me—it means he won't question me. But it also means anyone can lie to him, and he'll eat it up.
After answering most of his questions and wrapping up my story, he finally tells me why he attacked me. Turns out some smartass recruit named Ermo decided it would be funny to mess with me.
He tricked the big guy with lies about me. My new companion, whose name I now know is Onyx, says Ermo is from District 5. That explains a lot.
If you don't know, well—every kid from my district does—for some reason no one fully understands, people from District 5 hate people from District 2. And when I say hate, I don't mean some playful rivalry.
My dad used to say it was envy, rooted in some old story about how the King divided the roles of each district. I'd be pretty angry too if our district was just a giant sandpit. District 2 has its flaws like any other, but you can't complain about its variety of biomes.
Anyway, that grudge from District 5 is still alive today. And being a Conductor just gives them another reason to hate me.
I also learn a bit about Onyx's past. He's the son of a Class A from District 1 and managed to become Class S. Now he just has to finish recruit training before he's officially accepted.
Onyx explains there'll be some tests before graduation, of course. What I didn't know is that they're practical. He's not sure what they'll involve, but it sounds like they'll push us—physically and mentally. Makes sense. Only the elite make it through.
Then we go back to talking about life. His life's been calmer than mine, which explains why he's so naive. He's looking forward to visiting his parents again, but that'll only happen once he graduates. Until then, he has to stay here—just like me and everyone else.
I'd love to leave too. But I have to stay here—if it means helping the people I love.