Awoken by Alex South Page A

serious.
    Ohm turned to look at the young Awoken. “Try and hold onto that belief, Oa. I seem to have misplaced mine in the endless line of weebles I have been stumbling through.” He toyed idly with the dressing on his damaged arm.
    “There are still a few more things I’d like to have explained,” Oa said. When Ohm remained silent he continued. “You have been around a long time, so tell me more about this world where we come from. What’s your exact number? Who is the Crea—?”
    “No time for that now,” Ohm interrupted as the two rounded a spire of rock and arrived in a wide clearing at the center of the valley. As the city of Bolleworth rose before them, Oa gazed up, taking the city in. Bolleworth was a giant dome. The outer shell of the dome was split into many pieces, with each piece held in place by a tower that ran through it. Lights shone out from windows in the towers and through cracks in between the dome fragments.
    “We’re here. It’s time to show you the world as it is; we can discuss what it was later,” Ohm said, deflecting Oa’s questions.
    Together they strode into the city. There was no main entrance to Bolleworth, since it could be accessed from any point under the edge of the dome, which rested several body lengths off the ground. Once inside, Oa and Ohm found themselves in a maze of towering structures. Down at the ground level, there were no signs of activity. The walls and lanes were dirty from all the dust that blew in from the surrounding desert. Oa looked up above him, his view of the top of the dome was obstructed by the numerous crossways set between the towers. From the glow above he could tell that the lights of the upper levels were crisp and clean. They didn’t flicker the way the dim lighting did down where he stood. Oa had a hunch that the upper lanes were cleaner as well.
    “I bet all the amazing stuff is up there,” Oa said wistfully gazing up.
    “In a weeble. There are things to see down here, I am sure,” Ohm chided.
    “Where is everyone?” Oa huffed, slightly impatient and bored with the empty city streets.
    “Not many Awoken are left. There are many friendly dust piles, though,” Ohm replied leading them further into the city.
    As Ohm navigated the streets, Oa was distracted several times by figures scurrying just out of sight. At one point, he saw an Awoken walking toward them from a connecting lane.
    Excited, Oa waved his arm high. “Hello there,” he called. His words hung dead in the air as the Awoken passed by without any sign of acknowledgement. The silent figure continued shuffling down the avenue.
    “Most Awoken keep to themselves these days, passing the time in various forms of solitude,” Ohm said quietly.
    Oa looked back, the dismal Awoken had already disappeared from sight. Turning forward again, he caught sight of markings on the side of a building just ahead. Oa was eager to find something interesting, so he darted ahead of Ohm to inspect the markings. There were several symbols burned into the wall. The most interesting symbol, and the focal point of the strange art, was a circle split at an angle by a deep gash. Next to this glyph was a series of smaller symbols all lined up in neat columns. Oa gazed intently at them for a moment. His sight blurred then cleared rapidly, causing his head to snap back in disorientation. He leaned in again. As his vision cleared, he found that he could read the words inscribed on the wall: He is inevitable, our destruction is near . Oa looked around the wall as the same words were scattered all around the slashed circle. He recalled the strange discussion he had overheard Swift’s gang having. Ohm stood next to Oa, looking at him.
    “That was the first time you ever read something, wasn’t it?” Ohm asked knowingly.
    “Yeah, it was. I couldn’t read these glyphs, and then suddenly I could understand them,” Oa said, surprised.
    “It is pre-programmed into you like your ability to walk and speak. You