In the middle of the summer in Neo Pasadena, California, it was a particularly hot day, 109 degrees Fahrenheit according to the display on the wall. The only school in Battery City did not have any air conditioning, and the students filled the room with body heat. Yet in a classroom full of forty-five students in the ten-eleven year old range, there was only one person who cared in the slightest.

These days were the hardest for the little girl. It took an immeasurable amount of self control not to show how unbearably uncomfortable she was. It wasn't the heat, she could deal with that. It was the sweat. The sweat made her want to move around, or scratch an itch that it caused. It made her want to wipe a bead of sweat that would fall down from her forehead. But she absolutely could not. If she made any indication that all was not right, that she was not perfectly happy, that the world wasn't precisely as it should be, they would know that she wasn't taking her pills. And then they'd find out that her parents weren't, either, and they'd be punished. She didn't know how, though, because in all of her ten years she'd never heard of any other person who wasn't taking their pills.

There were days, like this one, where the little girl contemplated just taking the pills, maybe just once, and forgetting that it was hot, and that her clothes were uncomfortable, and that there was a bead of sweat running down her face. How great must it be, she thought, to be absorbed in the synthetic happiness that Better Living Industries' pills provided. But she must not. To do so would make her another mindless drone, like the ones surrounding her. Her parents didn't want her to become that way, and the little girl, an obedient child, had not. Her parents sent her to school with a bottle of fake pills every day. She acted, as her parents excruciatingly taught her to, as if everything was marvelous, as if she was on the pills. But every day, as soon as she got home, the little girl was eager to take off her black and white school uniform and don anything with color. Her parents adored color- most likely, the little girl figured, because it contrasted so heavily with Better Living Industries' constant use of black and white. Even now, she noticed, everything in the classroom she was in was black and white. The desks, the floor, the walls, the board, the pen the teacher was writing with- all black or white. The little girl wondered if color somehow interfered with the effects of Better Living Industries' pills, or maybe if whoever was in charge just really liked the style of it. How powerful those invisible people must be to be able to change the color of an entire world just because they like it.

The instructor, this being history class, was talking about the fires of 2012. They were in the summer of that year, so it would have been close to exactly seven years ago from that day. The little girl was too young to remember them.

"The extinguishing of the fires of 2012 was one of the first of Better Living Industries' great acts to help humanity. They wouldn't help get the world back on its feet after the Helium Wars until its end in 2014," said the instructor in her eerily monotone voice.

The Helium Wars, now that the little girl remembered. Only a little though. She remembered her parents moving from place to place a lot, and she remembered a lot of explosions. But that was about it. How many times, the little girl wondered, were they going to hear this story? How many times was she going to be told about how the helium wars left the world in a state of complete misery and disrepair, which Better Living Industries cured with their pills? How many times was she going to hear that the Better Living Industries generously used their profits to rebuild infrastructure in a new nation that would be fiercely monitored so that nothing like the Helium Wars ever happened again? "Pay close attention," the instructor droned, "Because the following will be on the exam."

But as she started to write on the board, a loud screeching sound blared over the school's intercom. The little girl almost jumped, but stayed perfectly still. After all, the feeling of unpleasant shock was another unnecessary thing that Better Living Industries' Life Improvement Supplements TM wiped away. The screeching, the little girl thought, must have been some kind of error with the intercom. She wondered what the instructor would say. Better Living Industries had built this school themselves, and she knew she would never dare to imply they had done something wrong.

The screeching quieted down, and then stopped. And as soon as it did, a deep, cool male voice said, hypnotically, "Look alive, sunshines..."

The little girl was confused. This wasn't a school announcement, those were always delivered through the same monotonous female voice. The voice from the intercom spoke again, this time more loudly and aggressively, "109 in the sky, but the pigs won't quit! You're here with me, Doctor Death Defying. I'll be your surgeon, your proctor, your helicopter! Pumping out the slaughtermatic sounds to keep you live. A system failure for the masses, anti-matter for the master plan!"

What on Earth was this man saying? The little girl was bewildered beyond belief, but she couldn't show that, of course, and she didn't. She was shocked to see, however, that the instructor was looking around with a definite look of bemusement on her face, and had opened the door to the cabinet underneath her monitor. Before the little girl had time to contemplate this, the voice continued, more loud and strong with each word, "Louder than God's revolver, and twice as shiny! This one's for all you rock and rollers, all you crash queens and motor babies, LISTEN UP!" Suddenly, there was a guitar playing with the voice. The little girl had never heard such a sound before, or at least could not remember it, as the new world Better Living Industries created did not allow music. The unfamiliar sound played with the intercom, shouting now, "The future is bulletproof, the aftermath is secondary. It's time to do it now and do it loud. Operation liberation is in effect! Killjoys, make some noise!" The guitar continued to play as the entire class heard a loud banging sound outside of the door.

The instructor, having dropped all pretenses of being under the influence of Better Living Industries' pills, had grabbed a raygun from the cabinet beneath her monitor, and had no sooner pointed it at the door before it was violently kicked open, and a laser beam shot fired directly at her chest. The instructor was not allowed any final words, she fell over, bleeding profusely and shouting, before going silent.

The rest of the class showed no reaction, but the little girl had no choice but to scream. The one who fired the shot, a red-headed man wearing ludicrously colorful clothes, came in the class and looked directly at the little girl. "We've got a live one!" he said.

The little girl was horrified. She now knew what was happening. This man, this tall, red-haired man wearing a red-white-and-blue jacket, dirty blue jeans, and black fingerless gloves holding a yellow raygun, was in charge of punishment. He had just punished the teacher for not taking her pills, and she was now about to get her just desserts. Immediately, the little girl fell to her feet and plead for her life. "Please!" she screamed, "Please don't! I'll take the pills, I'll take them, I swear! It was my parents, they wouldn't let me take them! I wanted to, but they wouldn't let me!" Meanwhile, all of the other kids stood in their seats, observing the man with the gun.

The man smiled, and the little girl knew all was lost. "Relax, kid. You're going to be fine." He turned back toward the door. "I've got this one. Kobra Kid, go to the next room and grab as many as you can! The teachers aren't drugged, we don't have a lot of time!"

The man approached the little girl, knelt down to her level, and took her hand. "You're going to be okay," he said again. "We're here to save you." He wiped a tear from the littler girl's eye, and she was immediately at ease, maybe even comforted. The man stood up, and looked around at the rest of the classroom. "All right, you little shits!" He shouted. "Follow me." Having no reason to disobey, every student got up and followed the man, who was guiding the little girl by her hand. The little girl was still scared, but the man said she was going to be fine, and what choice did she have but to believe him?

The man led the little girl to the hallway. What she saw was absolute chaos. There was a dead man, also dressed in ridiculous clothing, lying on the floor, surrounded by a pool of blood. People who the little girl knew to be instructors were firing shots at the intruders, each of whom had group of kids following them. She saw one boy who looked teenaged hold up a girl about her age like a human shield. Horrifyingly, she saw an instructor fire right through him, killing them both. Now crying uncontrollably again, the little girl was running through the crossfire with the man, holding her free arm over her head. The man who had taken her never stopped running, but occasionally shot his laser-firing gun in some direction.

After what seemed like an instant of adrenaline-enhanced running, the little girl saw that they were approaching the exit, two large steel slide-in doors which were somehow wide open, as they never were this time of day. The man and the little girl were now running faster than ever. No sooner had the man, the little girl, and about ten of the trailing students made it out the door before they violently slammed shut, crushing one poor, uncaring student to death. But the little girl did not have time to mourn for him. She saw that a lot of other students and men wearing colored clothes were outside the school, and there were a few cars outside as well, each with their own unique colors and designs. The little girl saw a blue van with yellow and black stripes, which the man, squeezing her hand tightly, was running for. The little girl and all the children around were led into the back of the van, and she saw that there were already many other students sitting quietly in there, waiting.

The red-haired man ran into the driver's seat, started the van, and drove away as quickly as he could, jerking all the kids in the back- though only one was bothered. The little girl had an uninterrupted stream of emotions flowing through her. She was scared, confused, angry, curious, anxious...but most of all, she was so incredibly excited that something interesting was finally happening to her.