In the ever-moving grid of New York City, Castle Cerulean now sat at H7. Considering that the Numbers found her in L9, Micaela made sure they knew about the long drive ahead. It took an hour and forty-three minutes just getting to where she was, and without the Battery serving as excess power, the trip back would be slow. The battery was the changed Gray. It was taken into the castle until it turned Blue, making it the perfect source for a Light-powered vehicle. A few halos served the purpose as well, but their nature made them better as a backup. With this unstable nature, they could still make the trip, but she needed them to know she wasn't delaying. She thought it'd be for the better, anyway. There was much to say about the castle, and she felt its necessity in her heart. To start?

“Castle Cerulean is broken into four sectors, starting at the top and going down. Sector One is where The Blue Bloods live. They're the people capable of witnessing God's light. Some of them are orphans, taken from unworthy family members. Others are part of long lines. It's always a big celebration when Blue Bloods are born. Sector Two is for research, religion and military staff. It's where you can find the barracks, cathedral and labs. The cathedral is the only place open to people from Sector Three. Those people are...people like me. We can't see God's light naturally, but the longer we bask in it the more it changes us. That's what I meant by conditioning before. Through prayer, study, and doing our job, we are rewarded with god's regard."

“Does it really work like that?” King asked.

"Yeah, surprisingly. Some people never leave Sector Three, but those who join the church or the military have completed conditioning. They've become worthy of god's grace."

“But researchers aren’t like them?”

“Nope. We’re just the ones who tested high enough in the right fields. There’s not that many of us either.”

“And what do you spend most of your time studying?”

"How to improve the Halos. Making better Batteries. Figuring out how to move the Light efficiently. We're just glorified workers frankly, but at least it lets us live in Sector Two."

“Is Sector Three bad?”

Micaela shrugged, "It's work, I think. Everybody has a job to do. They don't get overworked, but they don't get a lot of time off until holidays."

“What are holidays?”

"Things like Blue Blood birthdays, Group Prayer Days, and Sanctuary Day."

“I think you misunderstood. I’m asking, what are holidays?”

Micaela stared down the road ahead with lips pressed thin. She couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry but thought she might do both. Shaking her head, she tried to answer, "They're just days when no one expects you to do anything. You get time to yourself."

King looked to the others. “Do we have something like that in the Enclave?”

"Nearest I can imagine are Break Days." Fang answered. "But this seems different, like there's some other purpose to them."

“She’s right.” Micaela nodded. “Take Sanctuary Day for example.”

She didn't choose Sanctuary Day merely because it was the last day she mentioned. It was around the corner and promising to be better than any before it. She didn't know all the things lined up on the itinerary, but she knew one was today. There had been a lot of chatter in the lab for a project she wasn't on. When she left the castle, it was completed and would revitalize everyone outside of Sector Four. That reminded her she hadn't told them about that yet.

“Sector Four by the way, is where they keep all the Rejects.”

“What makes them rejects?”

“They were scarred on the first Blessing Day.”

Listening silently, there was something about that holiday that made Ace give her a sharp look. “Blessing Day. Sanctuary Day. Celebrating the birth of Blue Bloods. What makes Castle Cerulean like that?”

“I guess you could start with how we’re taught to treat the royal family…”

⁛

In Castle Cerulean, still, a bit of time away, the people of Sector Three gathered in crowds in a transformed shopping square. A former mall now acted as Central Hall—the gateway to Sector Two, dressed up with hanging Blue banners bright with flashing light strips. The crowds gathered before a stage with a tent atop it, waiting patiently for their star to emerge. She sat inside, quivering and nervous, but a man with thin glasses smiled at her in a mirror, standing stalwart at her side. Her eyes moved up his reflection, watching his lips move as he spoke.

“If I may be frank, you look terrified, Princess.”

Her jaw tightened. She wasn't used to that moniker and didn't know if she would ever be. She breathed deep and hardened her gaze. "Can you say my name for me, Julius?”

Julius nodded. “You are Princess Brigid, ma’am. The most beautiful of the royal daughters.”

Brigid laughed, taking a brush to long auburn hair. "What does that make my sister then?"

“If I may be frank, unlucky, Princess.”

She giggled. "My sister wouldn't be happy if she heard you say that."

"I will suffer 1,000 punishments before I say otherwise."

"You are always a source of strength for me, Julius. Thank you for always helping me stand up."

"Whenever you need me, Princess, including now." He offered his hand. Taking it with a right hand—blue from its back to its fingers, Brigid rose, letting Julius lead her to the stage.

She became someone else as the crowd set eyes upon her. For a moment they were alive with speculation, but she brought silence and they answered with awe. She knew she was understated. Her hair was as long and straight as it usually was. She wore a white dress, tightened at the waist with a turquoise sash. If it wasn't for her royal blood she would be any other girl, and she supposed that was the reason for their stillness. She wished she could check every face, but didn't know if that would calm her or stir her nerves. She almost held her breath; this wasn't doing her any favors. Julius's fingers brushed against hers, and she let it out. If the crowd was silent, wasn't it time for her to talk?

"Beloved people of Castle Cerulean, I hope that you are well. We of Sector One remain blessed without limit, and we know that it is hard to see God's Will without a strong connection to the light.” Now the stillness was hers. She lifted it in her mind as her hand lifted the mic. “Perhaps some of you feel forsaken. Some might even desire a better job. You all are our hardest working civilians, and we suspect some of you long for a break.” She squeezed the stillness, letting rolling murmurs seep out. “However, I ask that you wait a bit longer. We have promised you salvation for twenty-two years, and I stand before you now to show that promises can be kept!" She surveyed her audience. In the back, a young man was leading two guards away. She took note of that but stayed in the moment. “I have asked you all to call me Brigid for a long time, and I thank those of you who did. Being trapped inside my body felt like hell, but God’s Grace set me free.”

“Princess Brigid, does that mean what we think it does?”

“Yes. The anointed time draws near. We have seen this time in the book of visions. We shall soon know the Almighty Want. I was fortunate enough to be born royal, so I had the chance to experience it first, so please beloved people, look at me! See what God does for those he loves. Know that even when things are hard, God still loves you. Hold your head high. Know that salvation will come in your lifetime. Know that God did not simply favor me, it was just that I am clay God can now mold.”

Cheers rang out as she held her head high. She could see tears in eyes, and new ideas taking root in people's minds. The weight settling upon them, unseen through the fog of their day-to-day, was falling off their shoulders. Brigid was hope for them, worthy of all their love. After ten years of fearing a dead name, the girl could see they’d finally forget it. It was a relic from a past of uncertainty. Princess Brigid, however, was proof of the Almighty Want. God was good, and when all the work was said and done, he would reward his people. She accepted the applause, not for herself, but for the message her life was able to deliver. Letting them roll-on, a wave signaled her departure as she returned to the tent. She wished a smile awaited on the inside but turned to Julius with a straight face.

“There were two soldiers among the crowd, do we know why they were out there?”

“No ma’am but there’s a chance they were simply on a break.”

She considered that but shared her first thought either way. "Could you bring them in for questioning. I saw them following a civilian, I can't imagine what business they'd have with one."

Julius affirmed her order with a salute, dutifully strolling to an exit in the back.

His targets had gained distance since Brigid spotted them, though, following their charge with no regard to professionalism. The two talked with brazen volume behind, disinterest in his troubles blatant in their distraction. They mostly spoke of the skirts they'd chase next, but hearing the echo of applause turned their subject to one skirt in particular. She was twenty-two, and if they were Blue Bloods they would have been in her class. Her auburn hair looked soft to the touch, and her clear blue eyes could pull you in. The two laughed at the thought of her looking down with her hand against their chest. She had a different appeal than her older sister, but they still felt spending the night with her would be intense.

“After a night with me, she’ll have a new god to worship.” The one on the left snickered.

“Not you, bro. You remember that last girl you got with? She forgot about you after two days. She couldn’t stop talking about Grant though.”

“Whatever! She was just looking for an easy climb. Got in through me and threw herself at him."

“So you’re just a tool, huh?”

“A tool that did work. I don't know what stories she told people, but," He grinned. "I promise you the truth was different."

His partner guffawed. "Right! Okay! You're really going to get a night with Brigid and be all she thinks about, huh?"

“Dude, of course I will. That’s why Julius stays so close to her. He knows once I get a chance, he’s out of there.”

“Sure. Sure. If I get the chance though, Julius isn’t hearing about it. I bet that man can make you disappear. I’m talking mob shit, man.”

“The mob doesn’t exist anymore!”

“As far as you know!”

“I hate conspiracy dumbasses like you.”

“That’s fine, but when they disappear you, don’t come crying to me.”

The young man stopped abruptly, and the soldiers glared forward. They might have forgotten he was there if he wasn't supposed to be leading them to a payload. They knew his face, and how this was supposed to go. When he found them in the crowd, this was supposed to be their chance to get ahead. Stopping suddenly on the border of Sector Three was not a part of the script. Making matters worse, he turned to them, staring as if to say he would take them no further. It would have been bad if they came to Central Hall with their weapons, but their fingers were twitching, looking for something to draw. There was too bold a look in this man’s eyes; far too brave for someone from the Sector beneath them.

“Why are we stopping?" The left soldier sneered.

“I need to ask you a question.”

“Listen you little bitch, we don't answer questions from civilians. Do you know who's time your wasting? What do you think the Blue Bloods will do to you when they find out you distracted their guards." The partner barked.

Their charge’s eyes drifted to the left for a moment, clearly in thought. He looked back with a shrug, however, with eyes more tired than bold. “Where’s my sister?” He said.

“Are you deaf! You don't ask us questions. We are your superiors! Do what you're supposed to do or we'll toss you outside."

“Do you guys even know my name?”

The soldiers looked at each other, eyes wide with disbelief. They turned back to see his guard brought up, and laughter exploded out of them.

“What are you going to do, little man?" The left soldier brought his fist up too.

“I’m a little angry. I have to vent my frustration.” Their charge met his eyes. “You guys don’t even know anything. You’re just bottom rung trash chasing the asses of the people above you. You hope that if you kiss it hard enough, maybe you’ll get a taste of their greatness.”

“Oh I'm going to have fun with this." The partner raised his arms too.

The charge struck first. As the partner brought his arms up, a fist flew, smashing the other man's eye. He reeled back, a roar pouring out of him, and the charge swung for the partner's chin. Teeth clacked loudly together, and he went for the jaw, knocking a few of them free. His fist was en route for the throat when the left soldier charged him. They crashed to the ground, the soldier dragging forward, hitting him in the back of the head. His sight blurred as his forehead smashed against the floor. His body rolled over, and pain shot up the left side of his face. Dazed further, his mind went blank. He drifted to his childhood, and his sister putting ice to a swollen face. He saw her sigh and saw her smile. There it is again. Remember, I told you not to let it build up. God wants good of you, and that means fighting people who do bad. Tears filled his eyes. Suddenly brought back, he swung his hand up, wrenching his body over, slamming the soldier's face into the floor. He wiped the blood from his mouth as he swung again. That's when the Partner's foot came up, striking the side of his head. It came down again and again as he hit the ground. Another foot joined it; the left soldier on his feet. Both of them stomped down, and as he guarded his face he drifted again.

“Damn. Y’all really messing this man up.” A voice came down from above.

Through their raised heads he saw a shadow on a fire escape nearby. It wore a dark hoodie, strengthening its silhouette. The soldiers didn’t seem to care as they snarled, though. For a moment, their victim was forgotten, a new target taking their rage.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” The left soldier was on the right now. His general intelligence seemed very much the same.

“I ain't nobody." The shadow shrugged. "I was just passin' by, watchin' the show."

“This isn’t a show mother fucker. If you don’t leave, you’ll be down here too.”

The shadow held up its hands. “Whoa. No need to get all upset.” It shoved them into its pockets. “Besides. I really won’t.”

“Everybody must have gone blind today. We are Soldiers of the Almighty Want. We fight for God. If you don't start showing us some respect, we'll make sure all of you end up outside. Nobody is going to save your lives!"

The shadow laughed. “Damn. That must really work in Sector Three. But you boys ain’t there no more.” The charge's vision was clearing; he watched them swallow hard. He couldn't be surprised. He was leading them here just in case he had to take them out. "Y'all in Sector Four. You're talkin' to a bonafide Reject!" The shadow shrugged its hood back, and with solid sight, the charge saw the X-shaped scar cut across a dark forehead.

Every ounce of ego poured out of the soldiers, faces paling as their arms dropped. The Reject smiled, and the men traded looks, eyes daring the other to act. They wouldn't; it was so certain the charge's anger faded away. This fight was over. He'd have to get them back another time.

“So...do I need to come down there, or are we good?" The Reject was already on the move, heading to descend the final level. They could probably take him in a fight. His body was lean when you looked close. His blows would be fast but not heavy enough. They could take a lot more hits than him if he couldn't match their training. Still, they weren't going to try it. There was a rumor about Rejects; if you touched them, God would reject you too.

The two soldiers took off instead, running down the road to the shape of Central Hall in the distance. The charge sat up. The Reject came over, holding a hand out. He looked at it but took it either way. As the Reject pulled him up to meet his eyes, his bright smile came back.

“Name’s Rashawn,” He said.

“Peter." The charge replied.

“They got you real good, Peter. Would’ve helped, but it looked like you could have had it.”

Peter touched the side of his face. “Yeah… Maybe I shouldn’t have tried to fight two of them at once.”

Rashawn laughed. "Maybe! Either way, I got supplies at my place. C'mon, lets get you fixed up."

He headed for the fire escape. Peter looked down the street. The soldiers didn't waste time ducking around corners, hiding their route so Rashawn couldn't follow. Looking to his back, he didn't think the man wanted to. Rashawn didn't care about those soldiers; the whole spectacle was about helping another person out. Maybe it would all lead back to helping himself, but if Peter had to take a side, that wouldn't be a knock against him. He and Rashawn had no standing issue. Furthermore, he wanted to know what this Reject was about…