January 1, 2000 – Outskirts of Eva – Zone 47.

  "The turn of the millennium. Will the future finally touch our society with force? A society with more freedom to make use of N2 and its derivatives? Or perhaps even new technologies based on the already well known cores of magical stones coming from the most distant mysterious corners and deadly dungeons. Evolution, ladies and gentlemen, knocks at the door of our borders, in the hands of those who not long ago were our tormentors."

  A television presenter draws a deep breath, his distant gaze fixed ahead, then resumes after running a hand over his thinning hair marked by receding sides.

  "Rumors circulating through Eva’s peripheral zone speak of a prophecy about the fall of the wall of the oppressed, and at last our freedom. All this and more, coming up now on Morning with Greg."

  He then cues the commercials.

  Seated on the sofa, Sarah finishes the last sip of coffee from a small yellow cup decorated with a mouthless grimace on its side. She rises and turns off the television while chewing the final piece of bread of that morning.

  For many months, this quiet routine stretches on as though it were the only natural state that exists.

  April 8, 2000.

  The icy air touches the faded trees. Subtly, with this signal, a few leaves drift toward the ground, fulfilling their final role in the endless cycle of life.

  Sarah decides not to attend school today, as on many other days. From the street comes the sound of an engine that seems to stop nearby. Casting a glance through the window, she notices something long wrapped in transparent plastic left upon the sidewalk.

  With slow steps, she walks to the door and into the yard. Grasping the plastic, she returns inside, casting one last look at the blue sky.

  She wears a gray tank top that outlines her figure. Loose black sweatpants are cut by a red stripe running down the side. Her bare feet meet the cold floor with quiet ease.

  Another cup of coffee is poured as she sits at the table. She begins unwrapping the plastic, revealing a newspaper titled Periphery Today.

  Weather, politics, celebrities, incidents, nothing new. Flipping through the Hunters Guild section, she examines descriptions of objects and their prices. The more expensive, the rarer. The rankings of the month’s highest earning hunters are listed as well. As always, the Shadow Hunters dominate the profits.

  Yet it is on the final page that something captures her attention.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  "The newest dance club will open this Saturday."

  Below, it states that entry requires a pre purchased opening ticket sold only at the venue. At first, she pays little attention and leaves the newspaper upon the table for her father to find.

  In her bedroom, she kneels beside a black radio she recently received. Listening to news and music helps quiet her thoughts. After ensuring the blue core is properly fitted into the back, she replaces the cover and presses a button.

  She walks to the balcony door and opens it fully.

  The air that once touched only the leaves now fills the room. Sarah finds a place outside and sits, leaning against the wall while observing the colorless scenery of the street.

  The first sound is music. Unlike the few songs she has heard before, this one carries almost no words. But the beats.

  Her heart seems to synchronize with them. Her feet begin moving without permission, following the rhythm. She closes her eyes and gently sways her head.

  After several minutes, the music fades, replaced by a male voice.

  "That song was dedicated to the new dance club that promises to shake Zone 47. Now, on to last night’s police reports."

  Sarah leaps to her feet and rushes to her father’s room.

  "Father, Father." She shakes him urgently.

  "Hmm. What is it?" he murmurs, voice thick with sleep, rubbing one eye.

  "Will you buy me a ticket? For the dance club."

  "Dance club? What is that?"

  "It opens tomorrow. They play music."

  He notices something in her eyes that had been absent for months.

  "Alright. I will see what I can do at lunch."

  Sarah kisses his cheek in gratitude.

  "By the way, breakfast is ready."

  After a long time, she feels a genuine desire to do something. She barely understands what a dance club is, but one certainty remains. If that music will play there, then that is where she wishes to be.

  Morning passes slowly. Afternoon even slower. When Júlio returns from work, Sarah cannot contain herself.

  "Did you get it?"

  "Easy, easy." He walks into the living room and sits upon the sofa.

  Like a blur, she drops beside him.

  "Is this what you wanted?" He presents a small white envelope.

  "The ticket?" She nearly snatches it from his hand.

  "It was not simple. Only adults are permitted entry. Minors must be accompanied by a guardian."

  "And?"

  "The owner is a friend of mine. I spoke with him and arranged your access. When you reach the entrance, tell the guard your name and show this ticket. You will have full entry."

  "Really?" She leaps up and embraces him. "Thank you, Father."

  She turns toward the stairs, then pauses.

  "Father, tomorrow morning I will stop by the shop for clothes, alright?"

  "As you wish. If you need anything, just tell me."

  She nods and heads upstairs.

  Night soon falls. An owl silently takes its place upon the wall, waiting. It remains there until the first rays of sunlight strike the treetops.

  Sarah rises as well, quickly bathing and dressing. The morning passes, then lunch, then afternoon. At last, the awaited moment arrives.

  The sun begins its farewell. Blue skies surrender to orange horizons. Darkness spreads across the heavens.

  Vibrations fill the night air.

  And there she stands.

  After a brief inspection of her ticket beneath violet light, she is allowed entry.

  Before her stretches a dark corridor lit by blue neon, leading toward bursts of color.

  With each step, the vibrations intensify.

  At the end, a vast hall unfolds, filled with bodies moving, leaping, swaying.

  With every step, her body surrenders to the rhythm.

  Her movements flow freely.

  A silent smile forms.

  Beyond those walls, the world ceases to exist.

  Only the sound remains.

  Only the beat.

  Only the uncontrollable urge to dance.

  On a distant wall, an owl observes.

  A creature of wings and silence.

  To some, a symbol of freedom.

  To others, the end.