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Seoul, 1976The city crawls under the tight grip of martial law, the streets filled with police officers and agents of the state. During that era, South Korea often seemed as authoritarian as its northern neighbor. Though it still was a much better alternative for most, comparing the two was often far too easy for the average person.
The young Yohan (요한) Pyeswae (폐쇄) was often left at home, watching from his cramped apartement windows the city life happening below. It wasn't uncommon for his young eyes to watch as protestors and everyday people got beaten and arrested. Often for the simple crime of being somewhere at the wrong time, or for having the wrong believes. Yohan's father was a future politician, or he wished to be. A man of strong believes, a communist sympathizer, someone that dreamed of being part of "The system". For those dreams of his to come true, revolution was the path forward.
However those dreams would stay just that, dreams. And it wasn't a surprise to anyone when the Pyeswae got raided by the police, the father taken away to rot in one of the states many prison.
Life was just starting to get more difficult.
Seoul International Airport, 1988The system was still broken, it was changing people said. Reality was telling a whole different story, martial law had ended back in 1981, but nothing had changed in Yohan's eyes. His family was destroyed, his country wasn't free neither was his family. His mother was shamed as a communist, Yohan was being treated as no better than human waste by his teachers. Everybody knew, being labeled as a red was sometimes worst than prison.
His father wouldn't say that its worst, dying incarcerated back in 1980. Everything seemed to be after them, after some time and by some miracle, they were offered the possibility of a new life. The exact circonstances of how or why was forgotten along with the world that he left behind.
- "Asylum" [보호 시설]
That word, it was familiar. Important. Liberating.
City 13 | 19 of July 2021
C13:i4.STICK-53 : < :: S-Stop yelling-... St-.. Stop it... ::>
Gun shots and explosions are resonating in the building, although he doesn't hear much of anything. His ears are ringing his brain pulsating with the biggest blood rush of his life... His eyes open slowly, the facemask he was wearing is now nothing but shards, his face is not even recognizable. Blood is convering most of it, like paint on a canvas. Unable to speak or move, he is left dead on the ground. His only way of knowning he is actually alive is the pain and the ringing in his ears. Its piercing his ear-drums just like a bullet would to a piece of cardboard.
The only thing he sees is the celling covered by black smoke, trying to move is futile his body is irresponsive, he is like an inert doll. Unable to move or do anything, even closing his eyelids is an Herculean task. He was forced to contemplate the celling in pain if it wasn't for his body to suddenly move. "Him being dragged..?"
Still unable to hear or do anything he can only contemplate his ongoing fate. The pain is unbarable, his state of consciousness at the time is questionable. But he slowly starts to hear something.
C13:i3.PATROL-11 : < :: Move godamnit! They are coming! :: >
C13:i5.STICK-91: < :: YOU WANT TO BE THE ONE DRAGGING?! SHUT UP AND SHOOT! ::>
Multiple burst from an assault rifle then ensuied, 53 can barely hear them. It's almost like a few faint sounds barely heard from a distance. However it could be further from reality, As he struggles to move his head slightly he glances at his colleague shooting with an M16. Insurgents at the other side of the hall where he once was left for dead.
C13:i5.STICK-91: < :: 23! BRING SOME
MORPHINE, GET HIM UP ON HIS FEET! ::>C13:i3.VICE-23: <:: Incoming! ::>
53 suddenly falls down, the back of his head smashing against the concrete as his motionless body is dropped on the ground by his teammate.
Aéroport de Paris-Charles de Gaulle, 2000- "Mister Pyeswae ?"
- "Yeah, sorry what were you saying?"
- "What brings you in France?"
- "I.. Uh-..."
His head slowly turns towards the window, showing the other room where is bags were being searched. Something else was on his mind it was strange, almost like.. He wasn't really here. The sound of an airplane taking off took over the conversation for a few seconds.
- "What, brings you in France?"
- "Work... Work is why I am here."
- "Why did you leave the United States?"
- "My mother passed away, I wanted to change my life. I never really felt at home in the US."
- "So do you have any family here?"
- "I have a brother, my other siblings stayed in the United States."
- "Will you stay with you brother until you find a place of residence here?"
- "We... We aren't exactly close, I have something planned. Residence wise."
- "Very well, you are free to wait in the other room until your bags are searched. Welcome in the French Republ-.."
City 13 | 21 of July 2021
C13:i1.PATROL-11 : "Hey, are you awake?"
His eyes slowly open, revealing the open sky. A greenish tone over the clouds, this isn't hell. He is still alive. The pain however, is still very much present. Each of his legs feels like they are attached to two thousand pounds of weight. His eyes want to shut close, but even closing his eyelids feels like an impossible task.
C13:i4.STICK-53 : "Morphine.. Give me some damn morphine..."
C13:i1.PATROL-11 : "Y-Yeah I'll get you some painkillers."
The sounds of his command unit searching through his things are the only things he can hear. It almost seems like he isn't in City Thirteen anymore, but it doesn't last long. The first sounds of gunfire and explosion are taking over in the distance. This isn't the Jewel of the Sector anymore. Lost in his thought he realized he isn't anywhere close to freedom. The only thing on his mind is the pain he constantly feels and the idea of dying as soon as possible. But suddenly, relief. The sweet feeling of numbness.
C13:i1.PATROL-11 : "Here you go.." The command units get back up after injecting 53 with some painkillers. Sitting back on his chair next to him. Reaching for his lighter and cigarettes, lighting one up. Before quickly putting back the lighter and pack of cigarettes in his pocket. "You got lucky you know, it's just you and me now. You've been out cold for a few days now."
C13:i4.STICK-53 : "You got a p-plan?"
C13:i1.PATROL-11 : Radio is dead, so no help is coming. There is however a civil protection storage facility close by. We could find an APC there; we might be able to get out of the city.C13:i4.STICK-53 : "Getting out-... To go where?"
C13:i1.PATROL-11 : "There aren't many options for us at the moment. We could try and link up with some other forces. Or we could follow the orders of 77; last time he told us to leave the city. So probably safe to say we should go to City twenty-four. Since it's the only city I know outside of this one."
C13:i4.STICK-53 : "Well, it's not like we have a lot of options."
C13:i1.PATROL-11 : "Indeed."
53 moved slowly, sitting on the concrete of the balcony where he was residing. The floors above them are engulfed in smoke and fire. Desperate to get out, he looks down at Eleven.
C13:i1.PATROL-11 : "Well then." Grabs his facemask, putting it on before looking up at the floors above. "We don't have much time, let's get out of here."
City 24 | 4 of August 2021An Inspector of the Ministry of Civil Protection types a few times on his datapad, visibly scrolling through files. The room would be in complete silence if it weren't for the whirring of the ceiling fan above. Yohan sits in front of the Inspector, wrapped up in bandages and hooked up to a saline dispenser placed on a stand.
MCP Inspector: < :: So you left the City with the help of-.. Unit PATROL-11, is this correct? :: <
C13:i4.STICK-53: "That's correct, yes."
MCP Inspector: < :: Were the members of your team dead by the time you decided to leave the city?:: >
C13:i4.STICK-53: "Actually-.. It should be written in the report that it was our Rank-Leader who ordered the evacuation. Since we didn't have dispatch to tell us what to do. We didn't find anybody else, the rest of 11's team was presumed dead."
MCP Inspector: < :: Would you say that this was the correct decision? :: >
C13:i4.STICK-53: "Well.. It's not like we had a choice. There was no more sociostatus; the entire City was in a state of fighting. Conscripts and civilians were doing whatever they could to try to kill us."
MCP Inspector: <:: You would have stayed if you had been ordered to by dispatch? You are aware that in those circumstances, the sociostatus would have been switched to black? :: >
C13:i4.STICK-53: "I would have stayed, yes. But without support or any friendly forces, staying was considered suicidal by 11. He thought that leaving to give as much information as possible was the best course of action."
<:: Hm-mh..:: > The inspector stops for a few moments, writing some notes on his datapad. <:: Can you remind me of how PATROL-11 died? :: >
C13:i4.STICK-53: "He was driving the APC towards City Twenty-four, which crashed for a reason still unknown to me. He died as a result, and I nearly died as well. If it hadn't been for the conscript who found me in the wreckage. I got sev-.."
MCP Inspector: <:: I am aware of your medical record, there is no need. I don't have any more questions; you may return to the medical bay. Prepare yourself to go back to your post in the garrison of this district. Your tagline will be changed to the standard of this City soon. :: >
With no additional words needed, 53 would get up slowly. Struggling slightly before leaving the room, another officer was waiting for him on the other side.
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