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  A girl looks out along the plains, glancing at the glaring desert, and how two lone figures are trekking across it. One looks weary, his back bent over in exhaustion, as the other sits on their shoulders in triumph, a smug grin stretched across his face.

  “Who are they?” The girl asks, having never seen them before. A more experienced kid chuckles next to her, his voice slightly pitying. “Thats Arto, the crazed controller. They say strings appear from his hands, and make his servant move like a puppeteer controlling a puppet. He’s obsessed with it. There’s a common saying here from him. Never turn your back to him, or you might be the next puppet of the crazy.”

  “Why turn your back?” She asks, naive and curious. “Because he etches the control sigil into their backs. See that one down there? He’s the First Servant, meaning that his sigil is way more powerful, and one that allows him to be controlled even smoother and efficiently. They used to be a team, until Arto got too paranoid.”

  She frowns. “How do you know all this?” Her voice is skeptical and intrigued.

  “I used to be one of the people he took in, but towards the end, he got obsessed with being able to control people, and we left. Tukami, that's the servant's name, had always been his friend, and didn’t take our warnings seriously. He got caught, I guess. Now, come on, our shift is over. We’re moving the tents today, as more people are getting taken by that madman’s skill.” He upturns his nose at it, seemingly disgusted.

  __________________________________________________________________________

  Tukami

  Tukami stares at the small settlements, if you could even call it that, the meagre number of tents having people walking in and out as he sits on guard duty, watching with seeming disinterest. He has been like this for months, ever since Arto made him First Servant. He watches as someone's neckline slips, and a black swirling pattern is partially exposed on their back.

  The control pattern. A horrible thing for someone to endure. Tukami hated it, how it felt like he couldn’t move without permission, couldn’t breath without permission. As if he was no longer able to do anything.

  He then stood up. It is a sort of protest, a rebellion against his controller, against the Puppeteer. Even while his muscles screamed, and mind wavers, yelling crazed about how he should sit down, just guard. One of the people looks at him, and their eyes widen. Tukami shivers, immediately sitting back down as they see him. After all, they can report him back to Arto, and while he’s allowed to move in order for his muscles to not lock up, he can’t stay standing for a prolonged period. That would be defying orders, and that would mean Arto's hold is failing.

  Days pass with meaningless notions, seasons change and lives are born, all immediately brought to the Mayor as they are. A wall is built, and proper houses established.

  It is an interested Servant that observes this, and the people below. They all use their abilities to help with daily life, telekinesis in lifting things from far away places, and bringing it near, pyrokinesis who can make flames, controlling its heat with skill and practice.

  But as times continue, nothing within the First Servant changes. “First Servant, come here.” Commands Arto, and he moves forward, striding towards his Master. “Yes, Master?” First asks, looking at him with curiosity.

  “Have you gotten a skill yet?” First frowns, feeling within himself. “No, Master, I do not believe so.” A scowl appears on his Master’s face, and his muscles contract, stopping a flinch.

  “Very well. Go do your rounds, I believe there are a couple refugees seeking asylum here.” First nods, then bows, deep and respectful.

  He exits the big house, staring at the lush garden that is one of a kind since the Collapse. He didn’t know how many years had passed, how much time he had wasted away under the control of Arto. But he knew that now, he had some control, some semblance of balance, and he could finally, finally move on his own. It isn’t an order walk, it isn’t a mission walk. It was a normal, step by step, walk..

  “Please… no… I beg of you!” A desperate scream of a mother, trying to protect her child, echoes across the serene grounds, and I look up, to face a woman, black hair tied back, tears streaming down her face. “She’ll awaken her abilities, I swear!” A small girl, not older than five, her eyes wide and innocent.

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  “Mama?” Her voice is quiet, yet First still hears her. “Shhh, it's going to be okay darling, I promise..” The mothers voice wavers at the end, and a sick feeling pools in the First’s gut.

  The guards step closer. “She has had two extra years. The Mayor was being generous. Now, that time is over.” He readies his spear, leveling it at the woman's chest. “By order of the Mayor, we demand your child be executed for her Null status.”

  The mother flinches, and the girl glances up again, and I see those chocolate eyes. They’re glassy, round, and something too good, too nice, for this world. A gasp, then the body is limp, eyes filled with unspilled tears, and blood that pours out of a wound the size of a spear. It was a quick, merciful death, and the First is slightly glad she had one like that.

  Gut wrenching cries echo, but the mother gets up, and carries her dead daughter back home, for proper death rites.

  Later, a small bottle of ashes would hang around the mothers neck, a constant reminder of what would happen, should someone not awaken their powers.

  First doesn’t stop his walk, doesn’t stare, not even for a minute. After all, this is life here now. This is what the world has become. People so desperate for everyone to have powers, that they’ll eradicate the children, just so the society has powers. Of course, the First Servant is the only exception. After all, they help the Master develop new circles of control, and are still powerful, despite having no actual power.

  The buildings around are ashy and dirty, disgusting and repulsive. Yet it fills Fir–No, Tukami, with a sense of nostalgia, for when they were on the streets, on the run from monsters and people alike. When the world didn’t seem so set in stone, so inevitable.

  A group of strangers stand out to First, and he approaches quickly. They must be the people that Master Arto mentioned, the ones that he was supposed to retrieve for their marks.

  However, as he stares at the group, men, women and children alike, his heart squeezes inside his chest. It hurt. Hurt to see some children, so exhausted and tired, so put down and meagre, faces pulled gaunt with hunger, bags under their eyes, yet a spark of hope, of longing for peace. “I am the one that will take you to the Mayor.” He says, his voice clear despite the turmoil of his heart.

  “Have you got abilities?” He asks. Thirteen people put up their hands, yet several don’t. Tukami stares, wondering what he can do. What should he do?

  “You seven without abilities, see that alleyway?” He points towards a dark corridor, where a tavern. “Go there. I’ll be with you later.” The thirteen with powers frown. “Why don’t we go with them?” They ask. He sighs. “The Null aren’t well liked here.” They frown, and the leader steps forth. “Then how can we trust them with you?” He stops the seven from moving, and I glance behind me, only to see guards far up the street, coming this way. “I’m one too. You’ll have to trust me on that, or they’ll execute you as soon as they see you have no power.”

  The man grunts, but moves his hand, and they go into the alleyway, where Red handles them into the tavern.

  The rest of them follow me, and as I meet up with the guards, they stare at me with a little suspicion. “Isn’t there supposed to be more of you.” I hold my breath quietly, waiting for his response that will determine if I get punished, and the revolution crumbles.

  “No, this is our whole group.” The leader says, his voice sounding confused.

  I let out a small sigh of relief. Every day, I had been gathering people, saving them, and training them, all to oppose Arto. All to take him down, and free people of their oppression. So that no Null may ever be executed again, so a mother never has to hang her child’s ashes around her neck. But also, so innocent, good meaning people don’t have to be controlled, so that people can trust in one another, without a mark of control.

  The people walk into the building, and guilt eats away at me. I had just sacrificed those people, their minds, their brains, and any semblance of control they had, for seven people. Seven Null that might not even survive till tomorrow. I knew, after all, how hard it was to break his mind control. It had taken me a thousand years.

  Yes, I had a stronger mind control. But, it was still similar. I couldn’t even remember all those years. It is a horrifying blank spot in my mind, and every time I manage to remember something, I wish I hadn't.

  This was horrible. A hate wells in my stomach. Where had the original Arto gone? Would he ever reappear? Will I ever see my friend again? The one that had comforted me after the Collapse, and when I had switched my name.

  The people walk out of the building, all thirteen of them, and I see how their eyes have slightly dulled, and seem more emotionless. Of course, this form of mind control meant they can still do things without orders, but they were less inclined to, as the magic will press against their skull, like it's trying to burst out, in its desperation to stop you.

  They are assigned houses, and jobs that fit them, and they head on with their day. Me? I stare at them, jealous. Then, the envy calms down, and I look towards the tavern, and start to walk.

  At first, it's aimless, as if still revelling in my newfound ability to do anything without a command, and then it's joyful, before I look around. So different. So utterly different. How scary was it? To feel like you woke up from a fever dream, a thousand years in the future.

  I couldn’t even remember how I survived this long. How my body didn’t deteriorate, or turn to dust. But it wasn’t just me. It is Arto as well. So maybe it's an ability of his?

  How many people did Tukami save?