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The last great war has ended. The survivors have very little hope of future existence. test their grit living in the radiated wastelands, or seek life at the Sanctuary..... where all freedom of choice is lost during initiation processing.....

Robert Alan Ryder
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Chapter 1: The Sanctuary

.....Purge all your sins...... The collars of education will free you from all temptation.....

Coded and electronically, sealed blast-proof armored sanctuary entry doors, slowly swung open.

The gathered waiting, within the square of purging, they could- do nothing but watch silently upon the many never before seen faces of the new arrivals.

Their faces, covered with radiation-proof masks. Their exposed appendages bearing a slickening of- an ointment manufactured with anti-radiation properties.

The many processed citizens that watched the newcomers, they were forced down, to a resting position, onto their knees.

Varying by individual groupings, different coloring of the robes they now wear becoming a part of their being.

The skies outside the protection of the walled-in city sanctuary- now burned in a radiation tainted reddish-orange hue, with the fallout of chemical weapons aftermath spread from multiple in- combat engagements, from several factions warring; in a battle over world supremacy, using the last weapons they will ever be able to use.

The entry returned back to closed position. The electronic locks sealing the doors for good.

Pressure automatically vented- externally, to allow the internal air buffers the required time needed, to purify cleanse the city's internal atmosphere of hazardous levels of radiation.

.....Think highly of our new entrants...... For, the more numbers empowered by sanctuary's grace; the greater the power against evil's face.....

The newcomers, are quickly branded with letters and numbers, identifying their gender, their name and their place in counting of the many heads alive that now remain in captivity.

Bells chimed. The processed slowly rose from their places. their hands gripped tight before them.

Looks from peace and of serenity wrought upon their faces, the like never before seen.

....... Return now to your dwellings and rejoice...... For tonight we feast in a day of celebration in honor of the arrival of the last....... Corrective thinking, allowing all that are processed freedom from personal choice.....

Jacob Kyle Dawson scanned the conditions from his unknown surroundings cautiously, his eyes and his face hidden beneath- the cover of his radiation-proof mask.

The man, he did not like what he was seeing or hearing.

Dawson quickly returned his attentions toward the front of the line.

He did not want to bring The Taskmasters to any unnecessary- rise of irritation.

Three times during transit, the African American man, felt the prodding of an electronically charged rod.

The city, it seemed to be a multiplex of a building.

The remnants of what looked as being, a shopping mall before- the fall of modern technology by the world's last great war.

The raised sentry walk surrounded the interior of the city, with hatches leading out onto the exterior walks.

The Sanctuary soldiers, they were guarded with military grade body armor, and all were armed with heavy weapons artillery.

Jacob, he too was a soldier.

It was second nature for the man to make a fast assessment of- his surroundings, especially if he were to find himself within an enemy territory, which on this current situation; had appeared- by the man's perspective as being the case.

The world's population, it had been fast decreased of its human population exponentially.

The surface, it had been laid to waste.

Survivors, they had few options these days. Either they chance surviving alone- in the radioactive wastelands, or they become initiated by the ones that strive to give man a new face.

"..... Getting a good look at The Sanctuary newcomer?"

Initiate FM-SA-0014 asked the curious man as she prepared a new syringe.

Rolling up the sleeve of Jacob Dawson's left arm, the woman- now paused. The man had been branded, by his recent tour of duty.

"..... Unlock this one, and take him immediately to detox and- to medical..... Congratulations soldier.... You get the honor of special privileges....."

"..... No implant?"

The woman smiled wide, as the soldier man is quickly removed from the chain gang, and a pulsating flexible electronic collar is immediately snapped on to and power sealed around his neck.

"You have got to be kidding me!"

"..... Soldiers get the collar, civilians get the needle....."

Jason Kyle Dawson was now guided forcibly away, by two well armed sentries.

".... Let's move along..... we need to finish the day's processing before the feast....."

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