The fight was all she knew.

At least, that was the case for oh-thirty-three. It had been what she’d been born for. Raised for. What so many of her brethren had died for. Through the fires of both faith and suspicion, the one part of her that remained unchanged was her desire to fight.

But what for?

Her faith, dwindling as it was, had been shattered in the past few days. oh-one had shown her the truest layer of the world; a place of filth, devoid of virtue. Where good men followed the whimsies of the evil, fighting and dying and praying for a cause that knew them not.

So, when Oh-thirty-three heard oh-one’s words, she hung her head.

“Then what’s the point?” she said, under her breath. “We don’t have anything else.”

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

oh-one gave her a sad smile.

“That’s what I want you three to learn, like I did once, long ago, in my youth. It’s okay to fight. But always remember to fight for yourself.”

She stretched her hand out, placing it on oh-thirty-three’s chest. Over her heart.

“Remember this, sister,” she whispered. “Your heartbeat. Your life. Your freedom. They can take it from you, but never let them.”

“...I’m just a number,” oh-thirty-three said. “Like you. What’s the point?”

She twitched, feeling the other two girls - children her age, that she barely knew - gathering at her side.

“You’re not just a number,” oh-one whispered. “And I’m not one either.”

Oh-thirty-three looked up to the visage of the girl that was not oh-one. Dark circles rimmed her eyes; her face was torn with a thousand scars; her skin bleached by lack of sun in some parts and burned by heat in others.

She was beautiful beyond compare.

“I’m Selena, named after the calm of the moon,” she said, placing her hands on not-oh-thirty-three’s shoulders. “And you shall be Everie. The one that remains.”