Ever since the end of the 21st Century and Blood Revolution in December 2100, Governors had been popping up as quickly as Pop Tarts jumped up from their toasters. Each party operated under a different ideology which caused the division of the world into four drastically different parts.

The Eastern, Western, Northern and Southern parts of the world were renamed, and the remnants of countries from the previous century were eradicated. Their history was wiped out by Governors as they believed that as they were the "heroes" of the Blood Revolution, each leader should have their own proper country by occupying either the Eastern or Western part of the world for example.

The Eastern part was renamed as "Laetor", and their citizens- Laetorians- were probably one of the luckiest people on this planet. Word had it that they can live carefreely and were so privileged that they had their every whim served and that everyone was supposedly happy as a lark.

Serenity and joy seemed to rule Laetor, and the tourists and foreign dignitaries alike who visited there claimed that unhappiness was as alien as poverty there. There was no sign of disharmony among them at all. Laetor was the equivalent of an utopia.

Meanwhile, the Western part was renamed as "Harmonia", where it was deemed as a haven and paradise for musically gifted individuals as they flourished and thrived there prosperously. Similar to Laetor, Harmonians lived in a very blithe manner, but word had it that only citizens well-versed in the arts enjoyed the peace offered by Harmonia. For people whose talents lay in handiness and outside of the arts, they were treated like scum- especially if they had no aptitude for even architecture. Life in Harmonia was only hell for those who were, by Harmonian standards, 'useless' if they were talented in technological and engineering skills which are for reasons unknown to us, were banned there.

Last but not least, there was the taciturn Serium which was the Northern part of the world, and unlike their neighbours, their outlook on life was extremely different. Having experienced one of the worst disastrous damages from the Blood Revolution in the former century, Seriums had a stern and stoic perspective. They were always on the edge, watching with eyes as eager and observant as a hawk for the next telltale signs of looming war to prevent their people from the future massacres.

They took their leader's words- "It's a matter of when"- to heart. Rumours from the grapevine always reported that enlistment to the military was mandatory for everyone, and that all citizens received basic education and were all highly-trained in warfare and very fit. Athletic people benefited most in Serium while people who were born with or have existing mental or physical illness were instantly exiled or killed. Hence, that was how Serium became synonymous with the phrase 'survival of the fittest'.

Lastly, the Southern part of the world was known as Excidium in the 22nd Century, where Alara resided in. In Excidium, the Governors ruled with a cold iron fist, where they favoured high-ranking officials from pure Governor bloodlines.

They were very authoritarian and when the population stunted, they sent Amorals to kidnap young children from the rural parts of Excidium so that the Governors could provide an illusion of a flourishing country to the middle-class and upper-class. Families from those classes were manipulated into believing that their new children were their formerly 'lost' ones and that was how the Governors explained to them whenever they received new kids. Every two years, Amorals would continue their hunt for young children to sustain that illusion.

After all, that illusion that the two classes- and the world- believed in was the reason how Excidium maintained her peace and prosperity.

What? How could they? Alara slammed the book shut, rage burning in her. She didn't really know why she was surprised- they had been living in these despicable lives ever since the Governor's victory.

As she started to calm down, she couldn't help but feel relieved that Jonek did not publish his book. If the Governors ever found such a harsh criticism of Excidium... Jonek's life surely would not be spared.

She still remembered the day where he had given his book in secret, and it was the only existing copy in the world. She had received it months after Renald was kidnapped, and had promised Jonek that she would always keep it safe- and she did, by hiding it under trunks of green herbs and crepe ginger and jasmine- things that no one wanted and were practically useless, even by some of the poor's standards.

The warmth of the sun enveloped Alara in a loving embrace, and tickled, Alara carefreely rolled in the grass, giggling whenever her arms made contact with it as it seemed as if it was tickling her every now and then. Her loyal partner-in-crime, Qas, mischievously poured bits of sand onto her, making her shriek in surprise.

"Qas!" A cross Alara got up, actively chasing him past the garden and towards her house, carelessly knocking over a freshly clean pile of clothes in the process.

"Alara!" "QAS!"

The troublemakers' mothers promptly sighed and marched over, their arms akimbo when it dawned upon them that the two friends were making a mess. Again.

"Oh no, Lara, look! My mum's coming here, and so is yours!" Qas pointed frantically, looking guilt-ridden. He cast his gaze down on the ground, not daring to meet Alara's gaze. He knew how much Alara disliked to disappoint her mother.

"It's all your fault, you goof! If you didn't pour sand on me-"

"It was such a small amount, you wimp-"

"WIMP? Why you!"

"Children!" yelled her Mama tiredly. "Did you think that we wouldn't find you behind the table? Look, we can even see your skinny knees!"

"Skinny? Qas's ones are knobbly, Mama," Alara offered her honest opinion tactlessly, failing to gauge the mood.

Her bluntness only seemed to frustrate her Mama even more. "Alara, you... Gods, I'm too exhausted for this..."

Qas's mother, Joanne, sighed and held her Mama's hand. Staring into both Cas and her eyes, Joanne reprimanded them harshly. "Both of us are toiling away and even generously allowed you a day of play. Is this really how you are going to behave? If it is, the two of you will never play ever again!"

"I'm sorry, mum, I'm sorry," bawled Qas. "I shouldn't have poured sand on Lara and made her chase me."

"I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have pointed out Qas's physical imperfections," cried Alara remorsefully.

The unexpected and naive response from Alara shocked a laugh out of her Mama who shook her head, unsure what to do. Finally, all Cynthia Berrera did was pat the sand off her daughter's clothes and sigh.

"It's okay, darling. I'm just grateful that I have you in my life. However, please be more mature, Lara. I need you to be responsible and take care of Renald too."

Alara nodded in response and flung her small hands around her Mama's neck, never wanting to let go.

"Joanne. I've known you for ten years. I'm pretty sure I know when you lie to me."

"And I have known you for a decade too. Please, Cynthia, can't you hear the truth in my words?"

That's the problem, Jo. I can. And that terrifies me, Cynthia thought bitterly.

"Please, Joanne. Perhaps you've gotten the information from an unreliable source?" She tried to change tack, tried to make Joanne question herself. But what her dearest friend said next only proved that Joanne was right and confirmed her worst fears.

"No, I didn't. Jonek's the most reliable one there is! And he's never wrong!"

"Jonek?" Cynthia's face turned a deathly pale. Jonek was one of the wisest and oldest men she knew, and perhaps it was something that came with age, but Jonek was a very well-connected who sourced sources to prevent tragedies from befalling his friends.

"Yes. Regretfully, it was Jonek who told me. He heard some men talk about it in a sketchy area where Amorals frequent, and hurriedly ran to my doorstep to notify me." Joanne's voice was earnest, and her eyes were full of dread and distress.

"'Area where Amorals frequent'- look at your diction, Jo! And 'sketchy area'. Maybe it's not Amorals, but merely just some hooligans." Cynthia wanted to be blind to the cold hard truth and hence turned to her good friend's denial for it.

"Burying yourself in denial will only prove to be detrimental to your family. I beg you, Cyn! Please heed my words and be on the lookout tonight, even if you are at the point of fainting from exhaustion. Whatever happens, DO NOT LET THE AMORALS WIN."

"No, please no. This can't be true... the Governors can never be so heartless to us! It can't be!" With that, Cynthia Berrera collapsed to the ground, crying as she hugged her knees while she rocked back and forth. She hated herself for being so weak and badly wanting to be in denial. Joanne, who she had always trusted to always stay by her side, held her hands tightly in a show of comfort.

Please let Jo's warning be a false alarm. Please don't take my son. Please leave my family untouched. You've taken my soulmate and husband from me already. Not my children too, please.

"Alara, I want you to keep a tight watch on Ren, okay?"

"What's wrong, Mama?" Her daughter asked, gazing at her with eyes that shone with blissful innocence.

I'll protect you all, I promise.

"Some evil men may try to kidnap Ren. Take care of him. I'll be watching out for you two too."

Her daughter's sweet eyes widened, innocence replaced by terror. She nodded and instantly headed for her baby brother, hugging him tightly in her tiny arms. It was obvious that her daughter hoped to keep him safe by doing this.

Oh, my babies. My sweet Alara, if only that can be the case. If only a family's love can ward off evil and protect us from those with malicious intent. Please, keep us safe.

Soon, the night passed as fast as lightning, and still, nothing happened. It was almost four hours to dawn... and the Amorals usually struck at an earlier timing.

Perhaps Jonek gave Joanna the wrong intel this time round. Maybe the old man was paranoid...Deciding that they wouldn't come and that Jo had received inaccurate intel, Cynthia trudged towards her mattress, smiling when she saw her kids huddled together and glanced at the door.

There were no knocks, no sign of unwanted intrusion. Waiting for a few more moments, Cynthia decided to give in to her need to sleep as by now, she was certain that nothing was going to happen. The Governors had probably kidnapped enough children to last them for a lifetime anyways.

Besides, not only did she have much work awaiting her in a few hours' time, she was also worked to the bone. Her frail body would surely fall under the weight of stress.

And if that happens, who can protect and provide for my family?

With that thought in mind, she succumbed to the soothing lull of the paradise her mind had set up. There, her dreams constantly came true and her beloved Alvino was always waiting uncomplainingly for her.

Alvino, my love, I miss you so much. My Alvino...

Her children's heart-wrenching screams pierced her heart and Cynthia opened her heavy eyes wearily. That small action required a lot of effort as her eyes were still heavy with sleep, and threatened to droop down more and bring her back to her late husband's arms.

But that thought disappeared as soon as it came when she saw the most terrifying sight of her life. Her oldest child, Alara, was bleeding from a scratch on her forehead, and her baby Renald was in a burly man's arms.

Perhaps I'm in a nightmare... why would Lara be injured, and why would Ren be taken?

Taken...

DO NOT LET THE AMORALS WIN.

Out of the blue came Joanne's saccharine voice, except this time it was filled with raw determination and fury.

And that was when she remembered.

They have come!

"NO!" Cynthia dived for her children, but a group of heavy-built men started punching her on the stomach repeatedly. Still, she persevered and managed to grab unto her son's small leg, but after a futile struggle, she ended up in a world of black, her children's heart-wrenching screams of terror filling the empty void.