My father taught me everything I would need to know.

Truth was, I never knew what I was in for.

After years of training, I concluded the final combat assessment without so much as a sweat. My father was there to congratulate me. Despite how far technology had come and how much times had changed, he always measured my performance to where he was at my age. Although I had finally come to surpass his expectations, he was quick to remark how I still fell short of his own father, Grandfather.

Being the son of the City’s Founder, my father was more than proud to be appointed as head of its police force. Even as the City began to fall apart following the uprising of its incarcerates, he tended to the needs of its citizens. As the City's infrastructure was left neglected from their strikes, the population fought over basic necessities. To alleviate the need for water, my father and his force began excursions to the Outside. One day, ambushed and forced to watch their hard work dumped onto the pavement to run down the drain, my father urged Grandfather and his council to devise an evacuation plan in hopes to salvage what remained.

I was born in the first shelter erected Outside. Although Grandfather had been present then, he was absent forever after, as he soon left to retrieve something from the City but failed to return. Haunted, my father vowed he would train me to return to Grandfather's City to find him.

The assignment undertaken was urgent, but it’s the duty of any hero to save a child in danger. As our eyes met, I knew I needed to save him. Not just from enemy attack, but on a deeper level. He appeared only half my age but his eyes were dim and his body was emaciated. As he turned toward me his shark eyes glint. Without us exchanging any words he had me figured out. Steadfast, I took in his intimidating countenance, remembering my father’s saying: “Every enemy deserves respectful resentment."

A Weimaraner trailed the boy. Stray domestics were characteristic of the City’s fallout. Before the distance closed between boy and beast, I intervened, drawing my blade. I hadn’t expected anything organic to be a match against my steel, yet the enemy’s tenacity took me off guard. Despite my strike the beast charged on relentlessly and gorged deep into my arm. Suddenly, where it had struck, a benign burn flared against a malignant chill. This resulting adrenaline peak fueled my second strike and terminated combat.

Applying ointment to the wound, I looked around for the boy. He could not have gotten far for he needed me to protect him from further harm. During combat he had taken the opportunity to hide. Suddenly, in the periphery, he emerged from a manhole. Rather than casting the cover aside, he positioned it in front of himself--braced for an attack. Despite my assurance of my intention to protect him, he remained adamant in remaining where he was. When that failed to persuade him, I gestured to my wound as further evidence. By then the ointment had caused the flaring pain to burn out.

“You’re done for,” he stated matter-of-factly. Having proceeded to set the skin adhesive, I hadn't realized he had crept closer. Despite being disdainful his expression was undiscernible. Upon standing, I succumbed to anemia. Could I still protect him while carrying out the mission? I struggled to shift my balance to one side. Although I was sweating, I felt cold. My dilemma was just as bone chilling. Forcing my thoughts aside to drive away the fear, I glanced at the boy. Observing my stoicism, wonder flashed across the boy’s face, betraying him.

“Who are you?” he demanded. In response to my reply, he glared at me viciously, putting his hand on his hip. “You’re lying! I’m the true heir to this city! I know everything there is to know about it. I've never even heard of you before.”

Without the chance to respond, his tirade continued.

“Listen man, you can’t claim a place as yours if you’ve never even visited! Do you even know anyone here?!”

Displeased with my loss for words, he interrupted my silence with a sharp jab.

“I know what you’re thinking… Listen, I didn’t need your help! I can handle myself and get where I want! You didn’t do me any favors at all…You just wound up hurting yourself!”

Daring to return his glare, I inquired as to whether he knew where the City’s central statue was. Surely, somebody who knew their way around could answer that. He smirked.

“Exactly! You have no idea where you are. Everybody knows the central statue, our city’s founder, whose bloodline went out of fashion long ago. Grand-Dad saw to that!”

Without waiting for my response, he began in the direction we would go.

Despite the boy's detestable disposition, saving him turned out to be the right decision. Although nobody to him, he welcomed me to “his city” with open arms. Taking my anemia into consideration, he ushered me into an elevator. As we descended the City became alive. While the landscape above had been reduced to ruin, the underworld agents had revived a new one underground. Figures, as villains prefer to live in an underworld, a place far from the light and far out of sight. But to the Outside, this was unfathomable. After much consideration, I thanked him for inviting me to the “Understory” of his city.

He shrugged: “Why are you so surprised? I’m nice…just not friendly.”

Despite my anemia, my heart pounded as we exited the elevator fifty feet beneath the surface. Rather than a colony of scattered ants, the Understory was a colony of teeming termites. It became apparent that the boy held a position of power in this colony, as he exchanged tacit acknowledgement with two passing gargantuan rhinoceros beetles. Then, he turned and gestured to me, only to conceal his surprise when he realized I had maintained close proximity the entire time. Did the boy see me akin to a bodyguard? Was this why he had been so welcoming all this time?

I asked him whether he felt safe.

"Not anymore." As he turned his gaze away I could not figure him out. I inquired as to where his parents were.

"My parents are gone…I wasn't strong enough, so they didn't deserve me."

"Don't tell yourself that. No one deserves that."

"Actually, Dad did tell me that. 'You don't deserve us,' he said so after he did what you just did--got hurt intervening in my personal affairs!"

I had to look away. I could not bring myself to look him straight in the face. As we arrived at the boarding strip for the train, I tried committing everything to memory, only to realize the periphery was darkness. As a permeating sense of vulnerability began to pound in my ears, the ambient surrounding became muted out. It wasn't until the boy grabbed my wrist to pull me onto the train that I realized he had been speaking.

"…If only they had trusted me and realized how strong I really am…If only Mom had known how well I knew my way… then she wouldn't have gotten lost looking for me… and if only Dad knew my secret plan--how I always have something hidden in my back pocket… then he wouldn't have tried to pick my fights and win them for me!"

At that moment I could only stare at him, trying to figure out what I might need to know later. He was talking more to himself than to me.

"…They're wrong! Just because I'm young doesn’t mean I'm weak! Being young means I can only get stronger and wiser, which is why I was made the heir to this city in Dad's stead!"

The situation was more dangerous than I anticipated it to be. The Understory was an organized society. But why choose to be lead by someone so naiive as this young boy? Without maturity and wisdom wouldn't he come to rely too much on the advice of others? Did they really hold him responsible for his decisions?

For the rest of the ride, the boy couldn't stop thinking out loud, and so it went without saying that my questions would be answered in time.

As we found ourselves waiting at yet another station to transfer, I had begun to worry about the time. By then the anemia had subsided, yet the apprehension remained. The boy had not stopped talking to himself.

Suddenly, he turned to address me.

"Since I'm doing a better job at running this city than Dad do you think he's proud of me?"

He resumed his train of thought before I could respond.

"If Dad were angry he'd have sent lightning to burn buildings down…but it's only been raining!"

The boy explained how the City was reliant on rain, as water left to pool in the streets became polluted. He went on to mention how, forced to resort to old stores of soda and spirits during times of drought, the Understory had come to love the rain and loathe the sun.

Upon reaching our destination and ascending the Understory, I spotted a flooded pothole to fill my water purifier. Within seconds the oily fluid lost its iridescence and I took a sip before offering it to the boy.

"Aw man! This tastes better than rain! If only we had this before. A long time ago there was this old guy who wanted water so bad that he even slashed Dad across the face to get it!"

Suddenly, reminded of the wound from earlier, I raised my sleeve to discover that the ointment had managed to heal it. Astonished, the boy asked to examine the ointment. I grew alarmed as he slashed his forearm to prepare for the procedure. As the topiary sizzled, he didn't so much as wince. Then, it healed without a trace of a scar, as if nothing had happened. Casually flexing his arm, the boy tossed the ointment back at me.

"With this, nothing's a match for me! Well, now that there's nothing to worry about--let's make it straight for the statue." He was smiling for the first time since we met.

As we emerged from the shadows of the back alleys the sun was low on the horizon. The boy assured me that taking the "straight" route would have us arrive before nightfall. On route, the boy informed me about the City and in return I divulged about life Outside. We realized we had been conversing for some time when the streetlights turn on. Shortly after we arrived at the central park.

Until we arrived at the park fence, I hadn't realized why the ointment had been necessary. Heavily fortified with razor wire and electric current, the fence was the final barrier we would need to surmount to get where we needed. Having devised a strategy, the boy scaled the perimeter with alacrity and ease. After halting the electric current, he called out to me. Recalling his route, I rejoined him. While I had accrued little injury, he had not been so fortunate. It was evident that the electric current had hurt him, for he was applying the ointment to a debilitating burn along his arm. When he had pilfered the ointment was beyond recollection.

Noticing a scratch on my face, the boy offered to return the ointment, all the while grinning like a devil. Offering genuine gratitude, I let him know he could keep it. Victoriously pumping a fist using his recovered arm, the boy then implored to hear more about the Outside.

Then a shrill screech pierced the silence and the moment was over.

The monster had me defeated before I even had a chance to realize it. Its harsh screech was shrill enough that it reverberate through my teeth. As its salty, scarlet tones disgust my palate, I drew my gunblade. Before it could throw a jab, I beat it to the punch and severed its appendage, only for it to pounce back with renewed vigor. Leaping directly into my line of fire, I discharged my weapon directly into its maws. Merely enraged from its wounds, the monster fought relentlessly. As I began to wear down, the monster proceeded to fight like a fiend, forcing me to retreat into the shadows.

From the periphery I ascertained that the boy had evaded the monster's initial attack for he had realized our adversary for what it was from the start: a machine. One whose heart of steel spares it from fear or pain. The boy, who had only his fists and a small blade, wasted no time taking cover. Realizing it was unable to locate either of it targets, the machine began to pump voltage into one of its appendages. Exposed by the glow, I could see that I had severed all but one of its supports. It was on it's last leg.

It found the boy first. Its back turned to me, I took advantage of my position and took aim at the joint connecting its remaining support. Just as I pulled the trigger, it lunged in reverse to take me down. Although unhinged, I hadn't expected this and had no choice but to brace for its coup-de-grace.

Suddenly, as though lightning, there was a flash of illumination and then nothing. Although brief, the flare afforded insight into our circumstances. In retreat from the machine, I had taken refuge behind the Founder's Statue, and the boy, or what could be none other than the boy's body, laid between me and the machine, having intercepted its final assault.

Only someone so young could be so reckless. Although he had only lived for ten years he risked them all for me, someone who had lived long enough to live his life twice. Had he been able to comprehend all that had just happened? As though raising his soul, he was weightless as I laid him to rest against the statue. Life draining from his wounds, the boy violently shivered; his fiery passion finally extinguished.

Although the boy tried hard to hide behind one of his witticisms, he could only grimace. Hoping to offer solace, I reminded him of all there was to look forward to once everything was over. When I began to mention resuming life Outside, he stared back at me in disbelief.

"I've been through worse before," he reassured me. "I know I’ll be fine--It's as though the pain is fading away..."

Then, through his eyes I saw him leave.

It was the beginning of the end... or perhaps it was just a new beginning. When our eyes met, blue to brown, a relationship had planted itself in my mind; as my father said: a stranger is just a friend you haven’t met yet. After the boy opened his mouth, however, I knew he was going to be the end of me. In fact, I knew it was he who had started it all along. My father's favorite phrase: as one door closes another one opens, I rest my case only to open another: What was to come?

Forced to leave the boy behind, I proceeded to finish the mission on my own. By penlight I scoured the statue but I found no trace of Grandfather having been there. Where else could he have gone?

Then, a blow was dealt from behind. As the light flickered out felt myself succumb to the mercy of my assailant.

I woke to raindrops falling on my face. Despite the rain I could still make out the statue. Leaning against it was a man with a jagged scar across his face. As he had been studying me for a long time, he didn't react to my awakening . Having me figured out, he turned his back to retrieve something behind the statue. Pleading with my body to respond, I could only remain as I was: shackled.

"If only it had been raining that day…then perhaps that old man wouldn't have given me this scar...If only he hadn't wanted water so desperately…"

Satisfied with what he retrieved, he casually began toward me. At that moment, I wondered whether my father would despair over what became of me as he had when Grandfather failed to return. Would he, too, be lured into returning to the City? Then my thoughts came to reflect on the fate of the boy whose story only I knew. Were we destined to end the same way?

Then it appeared.

Amongst the haze an apparition emerged. Defiant, it stood statuesque, grounded with resolve. Taken by its omnipotence, the man was forced to concede as the spirit positioned itself between us. It is said that souls which suffer tragic ends are granted mercy in forgetting their final demise. Angry to find his body missing from where it was laid to rest, the specter emerged from the miasma before me, blade in hand.

Clemency granted, my shackles fell away. The boy smirked. At last he had me where he wanted me: I owed him one. Without waiting to see my reaction, he darted back into the mist, leaving his blade at my feet.

Then the rain became torrential. The man submerged himself in the storm's murky depths, awaiting his chance. Suddenly, a flash of lightning divulged his whereabouts, ruining his preemptive assault. Deafened by thunder, I laid in wait for the next lightning strike.

Then I heard the boy's voice reverberate through the storm.

"Stop! Don't hurt him! I hurt myself!"

Thunder erupted and a flash--I sidestepped, evading a fatal blow.

"Dad, please--Why didn't you tell me you were alive?"

Drawing insight from the flash and under cover from the rain, I sought the refuge of Grandfather's statue. His spirit embodied in stone, he braced to cover my back.

"Wait--He was only trying to protect me!"

As if struck by the bolt and not the man, Grandfather fractured. The man had my gunblade, forcing me to bring the fight to him. Nicking my fingers, I drew the boy's knife. Blindly rushing towards where I had last glimpsed the man, I braced myself, knowing I gave him his shot.

"STOP!"

Then the lightning struck and it was over in a flash.

Upon reminiscing, I touched the niche in my left shoulder, something Grandfather's statue and I held in common. Then I glanced to the boy on my right, who was no longer a boy, but as old as I had been that night.

″…And that is how you became one of the most legendary duos in history.”

“Yes, we were dynamic.”

“Before he met you, he and his family used to rule with disregard to life--the boy not knowing what ‘friendship’ was.”

“Yes. Myself, being the son of the police chief, knew I wouldn’t be harmed even though I had an affiliation with him. My father trust me.”

"And who came up with the new plan?"

"My father and I. We had anticipated stragglers but upon finding the Understory it was apparent that compromise was in order. Warfare would have left us too vulnerable."

"What were the terms of compromise?"

"Our terms were that the Colony would serve us as arms and laborers, in turn, we would provide them with healthcare, education, and necessities."

"Were they amenable?"

"Yes. They trust the boy as he had been born among them. Furthermore, his generation held us no strife as they had no recollection of the days of uprising. If they had known of the Outside, it had not concerned them."

"In the end, did you find your Grandfather?"

"My father did. It turned out I had not known Grandfather well enough. My father had only to glance at the statue. Concealed in its lapel was an SD card containing the City's Constitution and its archives. We believe that Grandfather intended to remove any means of restoring order to the City and to use the information to reestablish the Outside."