Year 18

-Chapter 6-

I want to put a bit of a warning in the beginning of this chapter and some upcoming chapters. There will be lewd, not explicit, but lewd scenes describing the Agents' behavior. Please read those parts with caution as in some upcoming chapters there will be some difficult subjects and moments broached. I hope you continue to enjoy the story, I just wanted to put a bit of a disclaimer so those of you who may be sensitive to the behavior exhibited by the Agents are aware!

I wake up, my whole body sore from my less than comfortable accommodations. I sit up, wiping the sleep from my eyes, wondering how long I actually slept for. My dream feels like a phantom memory, a memory I can almost grasp, yet I'm only coming up with bits and pieces. An argument. An apology. Justification.

I stand, walking over to the door, checking to see if the Agent is still positioned outside, and no surprise to me, he's there. He's pacing back and forth in the hall, running his hands along his holster as though he's worried he'll have to use his gun.

"Good morning," I say, meaning it more ironically than anything.

"You look like you slept better than I did," He groans, stopping, resting his head against the wall opposite of my Cell, "I was lucky if I got an hour of sleep."

"I'd say I managed at least that," I say, "but this floor isn't my favorite place I've slept."

"I can't say I blame you," he says, trying for sympathy, nearly succeeding. Despite the man's status, the uniform that clearly identifies him as an Agent, he has yet to say or do anything hateful. He hasn't approached me or called me names. In a way, this one Agent has been the best thing about this awful environment.

"Why are you so different?" I blurt out before I have time to think better of it, blaming it on my restless sleep. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't ask questions."

"There's nothing wrong with asking questions," The Agent sighs, pushing off from his spot on the wall. "I just don't think I can provide sufficient answers."

"Try me," I tilt my head expectantly, waiting for his response.

"I think there's an image people have in their minds of us. Most of us Agents, we're awful. I don't care who hears me say it, because we're monsters who would do anything to cover our own-"

"I get it," I say, "that was me for a long time. I'm still not entirely sure I've changed all that much."

"I just don't see how you fighting for your beliefs is any different than what we do here. We just approach it differently. We kill people who oppose us. And for what? To keep supporters grounded by fear? At least the rebels follow Kane because they want to."

I'm beyond shocked to hear this man speak so freely about this, to so blatantly oppose his authority in their midst. The Leader would have my head if I were to oppose him, but what does it matter if an Agent mouths off? Who's going to hear him but me? And who am I going to tell?

"Are there more of you?" I ask, "More people who are opposed to the way things are done?"

The man now, after having just said his piece begins to look concerned, looking around the hall. He steps forward, lowering his voice. "I haven't been here for very long," He admits, lowering his voice even quieter the closer he gets, "but I've met a few."

I try and picture this, picture a group of Agents that may actually fall in line with my beliefs. The idea is nearly impossible to swallow.

"On top of that," He continues, "some Agents have been working on gathering intel. I've heard men talking late at night about the potential of a nationwide war."