All the sights, all the smells, all the tastes, all the faces- all came rushing back to me in one gigantic blast when we entered out towering city. I saw all of the swimming images of glassy-eyed people I had seen a million times before I was imprisoned-but all their painted faces were new to me. Fresh dark and beckoning to my soul. In the distance, past him, I could see my personal Arch, saved so long while I was gone. The bright blue neon lights illuminating my furniture-what little of it there was. I was quite pleased to see those old homeful colorless walls. I walked slowly and calmly into my Arch. Touching every plush-hard thing in the room. Draping my fingers over things, just letting their texture embrace me for a short time. In the corner was my bed. How I welcomed that comfort, how I had tried to remember what it felt like in those satiny slips while I rested on the stony rocks in the prison. I slid into the robes and relished the feeling on my face and hands; where my skin was open to the air. The grate on the wall next to me-much like the one in my confinement cell, but more open not suggesting the actual feeling of imprisonment or detachment at all. It led to his Arch. Full of deepness with little light. He was standing next to the metal, back to the wall listening to me roll in my bed. I saw his eyes shine in the midnight blackness. Unable to see his face, I could hear him breathing in the dark.
“Isn’t this perfect?” He whispered. I lay there-hearing all the mixture of voices in the hall. They were all distant compared to his deep, dusky intonation.
“Nothing can be perfect,” I contradicted him but he made no motion and his mouth did not move. “Only perfection can be the way in one’s mind, judged by one’s self.” quoting a line from the Rage poet most famous.
“Then, in my mind...This is perfect.” His whispering reached me even in the blackest parts of my mind. I touched his fingers through the grate and he started a bit at the warmth of it. Settling he gripped his elongated digits around mine; nails not biting as hers, but breathing a soft secure feeling. Meaningful words had parted from his lips, telling me what he thought; ironically matching my own. All the dark seemed beautiful compared to the white of Civilary. We stayed there, touching our fingertips together in a passionate grip that would seem nothing to any other, but to me it was everything. I pressed my face against the cold cement- enjoying it’s pure, clean feeling upon my skin.
“You know that there is a plan tonight?” He turned his head, and I was able to see his face now. Tonight in the Centre hall there was to be a speech telling us of the new plan meant to ruin the Civils. I was weary of the constant plans meant to bring them down. To take their Civilization completely from ours. They all ended in the same destruction to either side with no real conclusion. But supposedly this one was to be great, superior to all the past.
“Yes I know,” I answered simply, not wanting to be brought back to reality-wanting to stay in the satin robes and touch his fingers for always, reassured and pleasant.
“Are you going to go?” His plaintive question plagued at my mind, not understanding it’s full meaning.
“Mandatory.” I replied, he turned his head back into the shadows. His fingers leaving mine, brow furrowing in a look of confusion. He grabbed to my fingers again-desperately searching for them in the bleakness. I grabbed on his fumbling unseeing hand with mine and led him to me once more. He grabbed them tight as though they were his salvation in a world full of evil. I could tell that the tears running down his face were mixed joy and pain. He had often cried in a pain of nothing; for no real reason. I couldn’t read his thoughts when he cried either-as if the salty water was a barrier ahead of his emotions to block me out. Him and I, had we still been in the Arch of Confinement, would be ‘handfasted’ together. In our society there was no way for people to be bonded together other than honor to one another. We had made such vows in prison-and being devoted held them true. Had any Rage known; we would be persecuted for following a Civil law that nearly everyone in the Rage detested, thought them useless and impractical. Instead of staying with me there, he slowly let my hand drop and climbed into a distant corner where I could hear his hitching breaths in a steady beat. 
The satin slips held no more magic then they had of old. In the center of my Arch was a puddle of red liquid. The liquid started to bubble and broil when I placed my hand over it. I rubbed my finger in this; drawing patterns on the stone letting them run and drip together. It was an attention taker that all Rages possessed. Placed in the room it was to practice mental abilities when you were small, and when you grew was something of a relaxation technique. He had once taught me how to form it into an embodiment of my dreams. In the tunnel, I could hear among the many talking voices-that voice of my Father. Talking little with everyone whom he passed.
 Entering the Archway was a man I had known since birth. My mother had been killed upon giving birth to me, a single child was the limit in the Rage and I had been born when women were killed after their usefulness had been finished, where now, mere decades later, it was considered an ancient custom. My father stared at me, his cool gray eyes emotionless.
“I have come to escort you to the plan mandatory.” My father had come to me not only because I was half of him, but more because I had just returned to the Towering City. He had never really shown anything of caring of who I was or how I felt, just that I was his. My father waited for an indignant reply of which I had always given-But I said nothing. Only got up and walked over to his silhouette in the Archway.

I was recruited. This was the ‘End Plan’. It was supposed to completely wipe out the Civil race. The blood in my veins rushed rapidly at the prospect of combat. After all, fighting was what we had been born for. He had also been recruited, we were to infiltrate the City and plant mass-destruction bombs. It had been decided that we, the ex-prisoners would know everything about the City. The plan would be for the next dark, but already the adrenaline pumped throughout all my muscles, beating and pulsing. I knew I must rest this night; but I could not. I could hear him on the other side of the wall crying again. I lay there, awake, listening to him. A bright light bounced of the walls of my chamber; in my eyes gleaming gold light. I could see the luminescence of the light showing the watchman’s fingers attached to the spherical light shaft. I felt a droplet of water touch my cheek. It was warm and slid down, danced for a moment on my chin and fell to my neck. The darkness filled my chamber now. He didn’t say a word but I knew he was there standing over my bed silently. I could feel him, his presence a strong one covering me thoroughly.  He crouched down on the floor next to me- laying his head on my hand-moving my hand back and forth across his face. His cheeks were damp. I lifted my hand and touched his hair with the tips of my fingers. Crawling into my bed he placed his head near mine and softly said.
“Please,” falteringly, laying his hand on mine. “Please don’t let me cry alone.” His voice shook in unison with his tears. I nodded yes. Feeling that heat he radiated covering my entire body. Brushing his soft dark lips with my own. Then came blissful sleep.

I never thought I would return to that Horrid City But I found myself leaning against one of the pillars in the white robes, which covered not much flesh. The people walking past me all smiled in greeting-so joyful to make me ill. I saw him come across the courtyard; his hands hidden beneath his robe-luckily these garments were the custom and the hiding of the bombs proved to be not hard. I felt a certain pity upon all these people, with their misinformed ways. All these people, why couldn’t they be of the Rage-they could be their own and not be under the mind control of some man. They all looked so happy but, underneath I could tell the Religion was all that controlled them-their beliefs made all their hate and true emotion drain away and only false love, happiness, and pureness shine through. They’re love was not true just scraping the surface of an emotional connection. He approached me now, looking straight into my eyes. I could feel my heart pumping within my chest, beating to the drum that he played. I knew then that I loved him. Love, A word I had read in the ancient scripts of the founders; but one that we never used anymore. I knew though that was what I felt; somehow. I was lost in the wellsprings of his eyes. He slid two bombs into my hands and quickly beneath my robe, without looking in their direction he spoke.
“East Tier, South Tier.” This was where I was to place my destruction-While his went into the other tiers. I looked into those violet eyes and turned to do what I must. Knowing somewhere within that I must do it, that it was predestined. 

The rest of our people stood outside the city’s walls waiting for the murder to begin. I crossed the two tiers and slid the destruction into concealed places. Enough time had been allowed for us to escape the City’s confines. I quietly left the City and rejoined my people. They were all in sweet expectation of what they had always wanted to participate in. So much expectation to make their mouths water in a bubbling carbonate fizz. I saw him across the lot from me; standing in a crowd that was crammed together for some reason. I took steps toward him, our eyes locking and the semblance of a smile gracing his lips. That was when I heard the noise. A loud sweeping noise that made my ears pop. I dropped to the ground, my feet slipping out from under me. The palms of my hands pressed hard against my ears, trying in vain to block out the intense pressure. I saw the light in the near distance. Close by the screams started. Then they spread, spread in a widening circle in unison with the light. A mushroom cloud burst in the sky. I looked down at my hands, where the skin was peeling back and deteriorating. As leprosy in fast forward. My face, my arms—everything. All of my people lay on the ground, literally melting, becoming one with the earth’s hard soil. I tried to crawl to him-I wanted so much, to lie next to him after death. But I couldn’t crawl; it caused too much pain. I could see that he was dead. Asleep in that gleaming bleached light.  Deadly sleep, never to cry over my bed in the dark again. I looked up at the windows of the Civil City. All the piercing faces watching us cease to exist. They’re loving pureness turned to pleasure in watching us die. I thought first of my mother, then of him, then I thought no more.
 
 
 
 

 The different colors danced around my face as I swam in the oily basin. I kept on dreaming, dreaming deeply. I could feel the colors as they dripped over my flesh. Almost able to taste the greens and yellows as they passed into my open mouth. I was so preoccupied that had this not been usual I would never have remembered who or where I was. Meditating was an escape for me; it was an escape that was required as a part of life. It aided in my suspension of disbelief, and so was the law that led me to be a better person. It was the prime law of Civilary that this exercise was under. The bell tolled in the far off distance. Echoing, seeming to call me back to the real world. As my eyelids fluttered I caught little glimpses of the people passing back and forth in front of me. I knew not only by the direction that the people were moving, but also by the routine knowledge that it was time for meeting. My joints easily slid together, locking and interlocking, enabling me to swiftly push myself from the ground. I clutched my robe in my right hand and looked to the East. I was in the West Tier now, the place of my birth.  I had been born during one of the wars between the Rage and the Civils. My Mother and Father had been murdered and I left to be cared for by a Midwife. 
  Almost everyone had already moved within the main sphere for the meeting by the time that I had brought back those memories. Memories were systematically erased from the mind after a time and were particularly trying for a Civil to think of. I padded softly down the halls to the meeting place; the white of the walls looking dull and dim in my eyes after all the many colors which had passed there moments before. The wide doors were already closed, but since no Civil was allowed to miss a meeting, there were no guards to notice my lateness. I gripped my fingers around the handle of a door, it was chilled a bit but I held onto it with surety, and the door opened. It made no noise and so no attention of the mass was directed at me. Every Civil looked the same so as to retain the proper respect from and to everyone, so looking around there were rows upon rows of people, which were copies of each other.  The Supreme Masters’ podium was small from where I stood, on the top row. When I reached my seat the main circle was the size of my forearm. All the seats were filled now, and the Master was entering through the doorway in the bottom of the sphere. His robes gilded with a bright silver lining that shone in the crystallized light from above. The glossiness of the mass’ eyes, which I knew even mine possessed, beamed as he entered. To my left I saw the runway slowly coming down, out of the corner of my eye. The Master raised his scepter slightly above his head. Telling the rest of the progression that they could join in the summoning of the Great-God. I heard the thunderous boom even before the beams of light shot through my already abused retinas. The light enveloped the entire mass of the audience, widening our eyes and bringing the Supreme Master into full view. The familiar growling voice bounced off of my eardrums and rang in my head. It told me of a secret, a secret plan of the Rage. The bright lips moved un-sequentially with the voice. It told me of what I was to do. The instructions reached my innermost body and I could feel it writhing and moving down in the middle. It felt warm and cold at the same time. A worm wiggling, eating it’s way into my soul. 
 “Our planet will benefit all people and bring us to live in more peace and harmony.” The voice resounded, it sent out this message as a conclusion and summary to all the others. 
 After the voice faded into the distance, uttering one last line of faith, the light died out, crumbling me down.

 I lie down on the stone that was my resting-place, though the comfort of it was minimal. I was too engulfed in concentrating on the mission-our mission.  I had been assigned to the placement team, as were many others. My ceiling seemed to loom high above my head. Swaying slightly in the wind- I often had unpreceivable, incomprehensible hallucinations, except this was different than my usual sight of moving inanimate objects. I saw an opaque fireball; it came roaring at me, flying toward my calm face, which turned to awed ecstasy at the sight of such an unknown view. The mushroom of glowing amber nearly touched my skin but there was no heat to be felt-so, as I knew that it was only a vision. Through the parting flames came the familiar yellow lips. They were turned up in a smile that I was not accustomed to. For the lips never smiled. They unemotionally intoned prayers, messages, beliefs, and laws, but they never really seemed to truly care. Then it was gone. The rest of the city was quiet, empty except for the echoing footsteps of someone yet awake. My eyes were open, wild and wondrous. I had never seen something so beautiful in all my existence. Another vision jumped behind my eyes-The picture of a black charred ruin, crumbled dust on the ground. It caused such a great leap in my heart that I could barely withstand the excitement of my thoughts. An acrid taste filled my mouth and my lips were dry from the breath that ripped along with the excitement. Slowly as the sight seeped away things returned to normal-I had to be at ease. The white, which surrounded me even in the night, made me remember where I was. If the night-man came and read my thoughts, he would know what thoughts had spawned in my head. And only night-men possessed this ability to rule and govern thought patterns, so as I knew not whether it was a night-man or simply a lone one awake and in search of something unattainable. I could not be caught with such thoughts. Or else I would be unable to watch the parade of murder which would march past my window on the morrow. They did not allow such lustful pleasures; enjoyments. I lay there, cleared my mind. Thought of those colors slowly, lusciously slipping over my tongue once more...

Climbing barrier walls of nearly twenty feet high dressed in nothing but a full-length wrap and bare feet could wear down ones ability when it was nearly over with. I had to scale the marble one last time. Then I was free to await the Glorious Splendor. The marble grabbed loosely onto my feet. Not caring whether I finished the climb or not it sometimes let me slip. When I reached the top of the barricade I nodded down to the ground team so far below and was handed the device. I set it on the outside wall behind the shield. I found my way back down through the yielding marble hands. As the teams returned to the City, I glanced back over my shoulder at the wall. I could already hear the screams of terror bouncing inside my head. Though I knew they wouldn’t have time. For words.
 Back within the city we falsely assumed our normal tasks and kept open minds to wait for our visitors. I cleared my head, not wanting those lustrous thoughts of killing to infest it and keep me from discovering a guest. I started to imagine those old colors once more but barely had I begun before an intervening thought interrupted. It was not a Civil whose thought this was for Civils could not read the thoughts of their own unless you were a trained disciple of the Supreme Master, who is gifted in such areas. Therefore, the thought, which shattered my pseudo-peacefulness, was that of one of the Rage infiltrators. It was a thought full of pity, pity for the Civils, for my people as a whole. The pity changed in a matter of moments to a thought, which I found to be undefinable...It was so strong that tears appeared in my eyes. It was two thoughts echoing each other as one. I could not distinguish the exact feelings but it was so powerful, so full of pure pain being pleasurably felt that I saw a picture in my head. Purple water flowed over a red structure that was breathing and alive. The tears streamed down my face, evaporating and cooling my flesh. My eyes sprung open and I saw the Rage which had transported the their thoughts unwittingly. Both of their eyes staring into each other’s indeed did look as if they could hold that passion. I had never felt something that strong before connected with another person. The only feeling akin to it had been along with the vision of the horrific murder when it had intruded upon me. The Rages departed and a few seconds later so did the Civils who were to disassemble the devices they were planting. That was when the burn returned to my heart, I could feel how glorious the expectation really was. I could taste the acridity once again. The flames were coming; I could almost smell the encroaching destruction. I pulled myself as calmly as possible to the open structures of the North and West Tiers to watch the death outside our walls.

 The first thing that came into sight was the Rage’s. They were crowded around our city, looking and peering to see the destruction, which only we knew to be reversed. I felt as though we were taking part in some bizarre peep show, only no one knew which to peep at. I waited and turned to see the look on the other Civils faces matched my own. Now I knew that they all felt the same power in death, I had thought that I was alone in my pleasure, but here I found the truth… 
A sound louder than any I had heard before rang through the City. The buzz was so strong that it sent me to my feet, clutching at my ears, which I found, were producing small rivets of blood. Though the blood did not matter, I had to see the Rages. I clawed my way up to the open structures again and looked down to see them, crumpled into piles-blowing black charred remnants. Though I did not get to see the initial wave of pain, this satisfied me. The simple sight of the death of hundreds arose such a desire in me that I clutched at my skin and tore through it bringing about blood. I set back against the wall and recounted the sight, again and again....
                        

 The Rage’s were gone. We should have been happy and so we were for nearly two turns. Slowly people started leaving us. A few dug their flesh so terribly that the blood simply stopped flowing. A few more decided that they would leave the City and have migrated to the outer edges. But, the remaining Civils live a life of constant death. Wanting to be rid of the feelings that they had never before experienced. I too must move on now that this account is finished. Not to escape, for I have learned to love this new way of life after the massacre, but to feel what death truly is. I need to feed on the pure first-hand knowledge. I must take part in the sensation, which I have dreamed of ever since the mass destruction...