Cardinal Tower (Trinity Central Book #1)

Chapter 1

"This unknown phenomenon is most likely yet another result of the catastrophic effects of the Carpa Malum bomb. The incident in question left behind 12 casualties yet no form of the radioactive residue was found on the site. Of these casualties include high ranking Trinity officer Eden Kennedy whose body has yet to be recovered. Being the eighth incident of this caliber over the course of a month, and with no evidence of natural influence, scientists are left baffled by what could possibly be causing these indescribable effects..."

I'm half listening to the few words I can make out through the static, and half too focused on the mug burning my hands. It's my daily routine now; sipping coffee as I stare at my tiny cable set while combing through the knotted mess that is my hair. Most stories just repeat each day; some tell updates regarding Carpa Malum, some about another Karma uprising, all told by Monica Blaire. Her enthusiastic, yet nauseating grin is painted across the screen, burning my eyes with personified annoyance. Just seeing her, hearing her nasally voice, is enough to make my stomach turn in frustration.

She's reading off cue cards, describing the same story for the eighth time. Some strange event occurs and no one can explain it. This time an entire alleyway was flooded with 3 feet of water, wiping away a decent portion of the Lutum marketplace. Stafford researchers are so intrigued because that alley is nowhere near a water source and that region has been in a drought for the last 3 months. The entire world has been, for the last five years at least.

Carpa Malum, translation: catastrophe. A grandiose disaster. Calamity, tragedy, havoc, and most commonly, the end of the world. The explosion from five years ago that decimated all of the European provinces and a quarter of the Asian and African land, leaving the rest of the globe consumed in uncharted amounts of radiation. The effects it has had on the climate and the environment are unparalleled, a new unique tribulation presenting itself to scientists everyday, like a code they need to decipher. During the first wave of radiation, seventy percent of the population was decimated, leaving only the strong individuals to survive. Everyone older than 40 and younger than 10 most likely had their rotting carcasses burned by their remaining family members to stay warm. The less lucky, however, had to watch their loved ones being dragged away by groups of navy blue officers to buildings that tower in the sky.

There's nothing I could've done, I keep repeating to myself, remembering my own unfortunate circumstance. I know the words are true, but I still can't believe them. There's nothing I could've done.

"Castelle!" called Devon. I snapped back to reality in time to notice my ceramic cup crack in my hands, allowing what feels like lava to slowly drip down my arm. I don't react, instead, I wave off the excess drops of liquid and nonchalantly dry my hands.

"How do you manage to break every cup in the house? It's not like we can afford new ones." Devon hands me a towel while using an old shirt to mop up the coffee on the table. He notices the news story playing on the screen and shakes his head, murmuring something about me and my grudges.

My typically filtered thoughts escape my mouth before I can catch them. I sit there, glaring at the cup when a more aggressive than intended "Can you blame me?" breaks between his chastising comments. I take the cloth from his outstretched hand and wipe my arm and shirt before the coffee has a chance to stain, silently cursing my lack of self-control under my breath.

"Unless you're planning on picking up a new set of mugs, I can blame you all I want," Devon stresses the last few words, straining them through his teeth in mockery. He takes the towel from me and tosses it in the sink, spewing nonsense about responsibility and being careful.

"Like you should be talking." I shoot him a glare. "Just last week you managed to break a valuable, expensive, piece of equipment at the factory district. Not only did we have to pay it off with the little cantos we had, but that incident cost you a pay cut."