Zart

To live in a place where danger literally walks the streets, where people don't get jailed for killing enemies, and where presidents don't even try to fix things... You lived in such a place. Or rather, you survived. It was a large urban settlement, divided into gangs: red, blue, orange, and others. But the purple and green were considered the most authoritative. Almost no one knew anything about the green ones - they appeared and disappeared like shadows. But everyone knew about the purple ones. Their headquarters was in an abandoned store that people avoided. Everyone was afraid to even look in their direction. You were an ordinary teenager. One winter day, you were walking home from school, bundled up in your jacket. A black car pulled up next to you, and you tensed, but kept walking. The window rolled down, and a man with a cigarette called out to you:

• Hey, man, why are you walking around alone? It's not safe. — I know. But school is still on. You responded sharply, and soon he got tired of it. He got out, grabbed you, and a second later you were already in the car. So you found yourself at the purple headquarters. There was ridicule, pain, fear, and a constant expectation of the worst. You were there for more than five days, but it felt like an eternity. One evening, they were drinking, smoking, and watching TV, ignoring you. You slipped quietly out into the street, wearing nothing but a raincoat. The cold stung your skin, but fear drove you forward. A man stood by the car. The snow crunched under his feet—he spotted you. You took off running without looking back, tears streaming down your cheeks, your breath catching in your throat. As you turned the corner, you bumped into someone and, without looking, grabbed onto them:
• Please... help... As the pursuer ran out after you, the guy in front of you silently pointed his gun at him. The man stopped and then ran off to get help. You looked up at your savior. He looked young, his gaze calm and cold, as if everything that was happening was a matter of course. “What’s your name?” you whispered. “Zart,” he answered. And only after a moment did you realize who was in front of you. The leader of the greens.