It's been two years ever since the Resistance had defeated the System. Sure, the Sections were freed, but not all of them. The surviving Watchers fled to the Sections like this one. Section 64 is a small city, but that didn't stop us from creating a little Resistance of ourselves. Those Watchers seem to be planning something. I know it.

-Dylan Res

"Those Watchers!" he hissed, watching helplessly as a young man was dragged from the bakery. He apparently stole bread, attempting to run from the pursuing Watchers. Many watched silently as the struggling man left from the street. People continued on with their life, accustomed with the usual arrests. Sighing, he continued to walk away. It's already fall, he thought, hearing the leaves crunch under his feet. We'll need luck searching for food in the winter. Strolling down the sidewalk, he failed to notice a person passing him. Bumping into his shoulder, he stumbled to the side, barely hitting a passing person. "Hey, watch it-" he started to say, but was alarmed at the looks of whom he hit. She had jet black hair, neatly tied up. Her side bangs partially covered her silver twinkling eyes. Her hands were in the pockets of her black leather jacket, which fashioned with her skinny black jeans and long boots. A band-aid covered the left side of her smooth cheek.

"I'm sorry," she blinked. Speechless, Dylan could only reply, "Ah, uh, s'okay." Smiling warmly, she walked away. She's very pretty, he noticed, continuing his walk the opposite way. Who was she? She doesn't seem like she's around here. Left alone with his thoughts, he suddenly heard a high pitched scream. Turning around, he caught sight of two Watchers following someone into an alleyway. Quietly following them, he hid behind trash that was piled to the wall. Peeking through a small opening, there was a little girl who hid behind a taller person. Rosy! He recognized her innocent, petrified look, clutching the person's sleeve. What have you done now? Glancing at the other, he realized it was the girl he bumped into earlier. "Step away," a Watcher ordered. "We have business with her, not you." The girl's looks were pretty and delicate, along with her sweet voice. "What has she done?" she calmly asked.

The other Watcher pointed at the little girl. "She stole a bag of food," he accused. Quietly, the teenager kneeled beside her, rustling through her pockets. "I feel nothing of a bag," she shrugged. The Watcher frowned. The teenager's eyes darkened. "You don't believe me?" The two men stared at her, determining if she was lying. "If we catch you again, we will report you to the leader!" She smirked. "Conroy isn't there for you, Watchers." What foolish bravery, Dylan thought. Offended, the first Watcher slapped her. "Don't you dare speak of his name!" he hissed. The two left, leaving the two girls. Sniffling, Rosy poked her arm. "Miss?" she squeaked. "Are you okay?" Looking down, her cheek had turned pink. Smiling, she nodded. "It doesn't sting that much." Standing up, she muttered, "I've suffered far worse." He raised an eyebrow, wondering if her appearance disguised her real personality.

"Anyways," she said, rustling into her pocket. Rosy squealed in delight as a brown bag appeared. Handing it to her, she lightly scolded, "You should be more careful." The little girl smiled, hugging her. She could only reach her legs. The teenager chuckled, patting her head. With a serious look, she spoke, "I know you're there." Startled, he wondered how she knew. Standing up, he revealed himself: caramel chocolate ruffled hair, amber eyes, and casual clothes- a navy blue sweater, dark jeans, and black and white sneakers. "Oh, it's you," she recognized. "Dylan!" Rosy exclaimed, racing towards him. Jumping on him, she struggled to stay up. "Don't do such troubling things," he told her. Turning to her, he thanked, "Thanks for saving Rosy." She shrugged. Her friendly gaze made his heart pound. "Sorry we got off the wrong foot. I'm Dylan," he introduced himself. "Taylor," she greeted back. There was a hint of something hidden in her eyes. Could it have been grief? "Taylor," Rosy tugged on her sleeve. "Do you have somewhere to stay?"

Taylor gave her a puzzled look. "I guess not," she replied. Grabbing her hand, the little girl dragged her away. "She can stay at the warehouse, right, Dylan? Right?" He frowned. Since when do you make the decisions here? Sighing, he could not disagree. Rosy's twinkling eyes were so bright, Dylan could not disappoint her. "Yeah, sure," he answered. Rosy cheered, leading the way. Taylor gave a soft laugh. "She's just like my sister," she murmured to herself. "Is your sister around here?" he asked. "We could stop by and bring her along…" Shaking her head, she explained, "She lives somewhere else."

"So you don't live here," he inferred. Taylor nodded. "Well, it's a shame," the boy sighed. "Section 64 only lets people in. No one can get out." She made an interested but concerned face. Ahead, of them, Rosy was skipping down the sidewalk, avoiding the cracks that went in her way. Less people crowded the path, the pavement growing dirtier with dirt and grass. "Why not?" Taylor questioned. "I can't say," Dylan admitted. She gave him the smile that shook his mind. "You can't trust me?" she guessed. "I'm afraid so," he replied, slowly swallowing to calm himself down.

They finally reached a quiet place, crows chirping and the trees already bare. It was a giant abandoned hotel, creaking and hollow. With a serious look, Taylor asked, "This is what you're living in?" Dylan nodded. "We try to get comfortable," he said, trying to hide his embarrassment. Instead of commenting on the poor appearance, she quietly followed inside. Children busily stomped around, the adults enjoying themselves. A man walked up to them, nodding to Dylan. "John," he greeted back. He had dark hair with a short beard, glaring brown eyes that glanced at the arriving two. "Do you have the files?" he asked. Taking it out of his pocket, he revealed two small chips. Handing it to the man, John eyed the teenager's acquaintance as he took the chips. "Who's this?" he questioned. Rosy took off, jumping into the arms of a woman. "This is Taylor, she's-" John suddenly grabbed her wrist. "What's your business here?" he growled. Taylor did not flinch. Instead, she answered, "Your colleagues have invited me here to rest." Looking at Dylan, he frowned. "What did I tell you? We can't keep on bringing people in-"

"Don't worry, I don't intend staying here for long time," Taylor assured. The man refused to believe her. "How do I know you're not a spy for the Watchers?" he said, his grip tightening. Her eyes darkened, shining like the moon. Dylan tensed, hoping the two would not have to break into a fight. "I've come here to save this city from the Watchers," she simply explained. "We don't need help," he retorted. Crystals began to form on Taylor's wrist. "John!" Dylan growled. "What are you doing?"

"Do whatever you want with that hand," she said, showing no signs of pain. "I feel nothing." Confused, he noticed she only wore one fingerless glove. "What happened?" he asked, afraid to know what happened. Quietly, she looked at him. "I had to freeze it when it was under a General's control." John frowned. "How could have possibly fought a General? You look like you would have come from the fashion company!" Taylor's eyes darkened. She shook his hand off, rubbing her partially crystalized wrist. "Because I was a part of the Resistance," she replied. "What?" Dylan could barely hold his excitement and shock. He could not believe the teenager. Behind John, a voice spoke, "She's telling the truth." A girl in red stood by the corner, holding a notebook. "Every word is true," she said, looking into Taylor's gray eyes.

They sat in the old dining room, people hiding behind the door to get a good look at her. John managed to take away some of the crystals stuck on her wrist, but the rest could not be removed and others were left as scars. "So, where is this place exactly?" Taylor questioned. "Well, you can say we're the second Resistance," John said, placing the chips into his pocket. "What are you, a Resistor, doing around here?" Taylor leaned back, folding her hands. The girl continued to stare at her, her sapphire-like eyes twinkling in interest. "Like I told you earlier, I've come to help you with those Watchers. I travel around, finding Sections that are still under control," she explained. "But that's not all, is it?" the girl in red blinked. This kid is getting on my nerves, Taylor thought, clenching her fists. Quietly, she firmly said, "I'm looking for Conroy, the former System leader." Dylan asked with a hopeful tone, "Are there more of you out there?" Taylor shook her head. "I'm here on my own decisions," she replied.

Silence echoed through the room. People hiding began to mutter and whisper. Breaking the silence, Dylan said, "This is Joy. She's one of our few Power Types." The girl smiled. Standing up, she motioned Taylor out the door. "I'll show you to your room." People hid themselves, pretending to look away or run upstairs. The girls left John and Dylan at the table. "Are you sure she's trustful?" John muttered. Dylan answered, "You heard Joy. She never lies." Hearing footsteps walk up the creaking steps, John ordered, "Follow her, for everyone's protection. Stand guard overnight if you need to." Walking away, Dylan quietly walked up the steps and into the long hallway. Catching a glimpse of Taylor and Joy, he hid closely behind a corner. Hearing the door open, it contained a small bed and drawer. "Please enjoy your stay," Joy said, walking away. "Joy," Taylor called out. Stopping by the door, Joy turned around.

"You know, don't you?" the teenager spoke. Dylan stiffened. What does Joy know? He pondered. What did Joy find when reading her mind? Joy turned around, facing her with a grieving look. I remember that look, Taylor thought. "You've gone through so much loss," Joy said, her eyes darkening. Looking away, Taylor quietly replied, "Thank you for letting me stay here, Joy." Nodding, she closed the door behind her, and left. Dylan stood in silence, wondering what secrets Taylor had.