While her sisters were given beautiful dresses and fine slippers, Cinderella had only a filthy smock and wooden shoes.

The sirens and rumbling of the emergency pod hadn't faded long before the hum of a much-heavier engine rumbled into the market place. The market's silence had been disrupted with the feet thumping on the pavement and then someone spitting commands. Another person responding but their voice was lost to Bloom along with the mix of other noises. The muttering of people had been reduced to nothing but a general hum.

Bloom reached over to the desk, still holding the clean part of the dirtied rag over her nose and mouth, grabbing the old, hand-me-down messenger bag from atop the table. She slung it over her shoulder, only barely removing the rag. Bloom crawled out of her hiding place, Tecna moving slightly to allow her the space. She crept past the desk, grabbing ahold of the prince's android, wincing slightly at the noise before tip-toeing to the door. She lifted the small crack of the door up and squinted her eyes to get a better view.

From her view there were three, or four, sets of neon yellow boots, they were an emergency crew, her mind informed her and a few feet away from them sat the pod, the wheels of androids standing next to it. Bloom lifted the door up even more to get a better look, the androids were testing a few of the people who hadn't gotten away in quick enough time, being halted by the market androids. The difference being that these androids were more pristine and had a teal blue sensor rather than dark blue.

There were more people inside the building through, running around with oxygen masks and pouring a liquid containing a foul stench from a red can. Bloom wrinkled her nose at the stench, even though she was across the market. "What's going on?" Tecna inquired, not being able to look down and peek through the crack, the brightness of her purple sensor had faded ever so slightly so if someone looked back they wouldn't immediately notice that someone was there.

Bloom scanned the market, watching as the people were directed around before leaving the baker's shop after dousing it in the liquid. "They're burning Martha Baker's booth." She answered. Bloom continued to observe the scene of events playing out before her before pushing herself off the concrete ground. She peered into Tecna's dim sensor. "We'll leave when the flames start, while they're distracted."

Tecna hummed slightly, "Are we in trouble?" She whisper-asked, lowering her voice to as low as her programming allowed her to.

"Of course not. I just can't be bothered with a trip to quarantines right now."

"Ok." Tecna said in an unsure tone as Bloom refocused on the scene outside. Watching as one of the men spouted an order, followed by shuffling feet as the men inside of the place left, filing out one by one. The commander, the man who had shouted the order, grabbed a match from his pocket before lighting and tossing it into the booth. The place lighting up the minute the match made contact with the gasoline. The men's forms silhouetted against the growing flames.

Bloom clung tightly to the android, her knuckles whitening before she slid the door open enough to crawl through. She kept her eyes on the men though, watching to see if they, or the androids by the pod noticed any sort of movement. Bloom reached behind her and grabbed ahold of Tecna, pulling the robot along with her. Tecna darted over to the next booth, remaining against the steel doors as Bloom lowered her own door. They darted along the storefronts, most left open due to the massive amount of chaos and fear that had transpired in the matter of minutes.

Together, they ducked into the nearest alley between shops. Seconds later black smoke blotted the sky above them due to the increasing heat of the flames as the flames spread throughout the booth. Only moments later, hordes of news drones turned the corner in front of them and raced over their heads in a desperate attempt to get the flames on film and to broadcast the outbreak to the rest of Eracklyon and any other country that would listen. Bloom continued to glance behind her, seeing if anyone was following them as they ran from the scene.

She only slowed down when they had put enough distance between them and the market, emerging from the maze of alleys. Overhead the sun was lowering, almost disappearing from view from the skyscrapers that leapt into the sky. The air was swathed in a warm heat, an occasional breeze rustling through Bloom's hair and picking up whirlwinds of garbage that had been littered.

Four blocks from the market, life resumed on the streets as people walked down sidewalks and hovercars traveled speedily down the road. Pedestrians were gossiping on the sidewalks about the plague outbreak in the central market place. Large and small screens alike were showcasing and broadcasting different angles of the burned remnants of the large fire that had stifled out the bakery. "All those sticky buns gone to waste." Tecna said as they passed a close-up of the burned remains.

Bloom bit her lip, neither of them had ever sampled the acclaimed delectable sweets from the market bakery. Tecna didn't have taste buds and Martha didn't serve cyborgs. For a second she wondered what those sweets might have tasted like, not that she had tasted many sweets in her memory since she was eleven. Her stepmother didn't like giving her sweats and while Crystal had snuck her some, that had stopped when Vanessa had found out.

Towering offices and shops alike gradually melded into messy assortments of apartment complexes, built so close together that they became an unending stretch of glass and concrete. Perhaps at some point when these apartments had been newer, they wore more spacious and more appealing but had been so subdivided and remodeled over time-more people being crammed in the same square footage-that the buildings had become labyrinths of corridors and stairwells.

But the ugliness of the crowded buildings was briefly forgotten as Bloom turned the corner onto her own street. For a minute, the palace of Eracklyon could be seen, golden walls glimmering under the sun's light, red roofs becoming more vibrant and windows glinting light back into the city. Bloom paused and to look at the small view of the palace, the ornate pavilions teetering close to the edge of the cliff and walls stretching to the heavens. She thought more about it, she had always known a certain someone lived there but now she had actually met him and that filled her with an emotion her sensors couldn't detect.

Although in this moment, she felt a smug delight at the fact that she had met the prince. Face to face. He had talked to her. He knew her name. He had come to her booth over any other booth there. Sucking in a breath of humid air she continued to walk, feeling childish. She was going to start acting like Crystal if she kept this up. She shifted the royal android to her other arm as she and Tecna ducked beneath the overhang of the Dragon Tower apartments. Bloom flashed her freed wrist at the ID scanner and heard the clunking of the lock as it opened.

She pushed the gate open and walked towards an entrance going into the basement. Tecna using her arm extensions to clomp down the stairs as they descended into the murky underground part of the complex containing a dim maze of storage spaces, piled next to each other in whatever fashion so the walkway was tiny. Tecna turned on her floodlight, illuminating their area and dispersing many shadows that had formed. Bloom continued down the familiar path from the stairwell to storage space 16-22, the cramped and always chilly cell that Vanessa allowed Bloom to use for her work.

Bloom pushed aside a few things on the large piece of wood she called a desk and placed the android on top of it. She draped her messenger bag over the uncomfortable chair she had got from the junkyard and swapped her heavy gloves for much more suitable and less dirty cotton ones. "If Vanessa asks, we're nowhere near the bakery." Bloom said as she locked the door of their cell before making their way to the elevator.

Tecna hummed in response, "Noted." She said after a minute, her light flickering slightly. Bloom clicked the up button on the elevator and waited for the light above the doors to ding as the door opened. She stepped in, Tecna following after her and pressed the button for the sixteenth floor. They were alone and undisturbed in the elevator before the doors dinged again as they slid open on their floor.

The hallway was busied, filled with kids chasing each other around and parents talking in scolding tones. Some looking at her in disgust while some were friendlier towards her. There was the occasional stray cat that slinked along the wall as the two walked towards their apartment. Bloom adjusted her audio interface so that the noises were reduced to a soft hum, dodging children on her way as Tecna wheeled after her.

The door to the apartment had been left open and Bloom had to check the room number to make sure it was their actual apartment before she walked into the apartment. She heard Vanessa's stiff voice before she even entered the living room area. "Lower the neckline for Crystal, she looks like an old woman." Vanessa's stiff voice carried throughout the apartment. Bloom closed the door gently behind her before walking in the direction of the living room.

She peered around the corner. Vanessa was standing with one hand on the mantel of the holographic fireplace, wearing a daisy-embroidered bathrobe that blended in with the assortment of fans on the mantel. Her face was shimmering with too much powder and her lips painted horrifically bright pink and her dark brown hair braided into a bun. It almost looked like she was planning to go somewhere, despite rarely leaving the apartment. If she noticed Bloom loitering in the doorway she ignored her.

The screen above the mantel broadcasting the earlier breakout of the plague in the market, some woman speaking into a microphone and wearing a solemn expression. The woman continued to speak, even though the volume of the screen had been lowered to the point where her voice was barely audible, pointing towards the rubble of the bakery and the skeleton of the oven.

In the center of the room Diaspro and Crystal were both swathed in rich silk and tulle. Crystal was holding up her dirty-blonde hair while a woman, probably the seamstress, Bloom didn't recognize fidgeted with the neckline of her dress. Crystal caught her gaze over the woman's shoulder and her blue eyes sparkled, a glow bursting across her face as she gestured to her dress with a barely silenced squeal.

Bloom grinned back. Her younger stepsister looked angelic, her dress shimmering silver with subtle hints of rich sapphire blue when caught in the light of the fire from the holograph just behind her. "Diaspro." Vanessa gestured to her eldest daughter, twirling her finger as Diaspro twirled around, showcasing the red quartz stones along her waist. Her dress matched Crystal's with its snug bodice and flouncy skirt, only it was made of a rich red fabric and sparkled with gold stardust. "Let's take in her waist some more."

The woman threaded a pin through Crystal neckline, startled for a minute at seeing Bloom in the doorway before continuing her task. Stepping back and taking the pins out from between her lips, the woman tilted her head to the side, observing the waist of the dress. "It's already very snug." She said after a moment of observation. "We want her to dance, right?" She inquired.

"We want her to find a husband." Vanessa said frostily.

"No, no." The woman tittered to herself, even as she walked over and pinched the material around Diaspro's waist. Bloom could tell that Diaspro was sucking in her stomach from the faint lines of her ribcage that were barely noticeable through the richness of the red fabric. "She is far too young for marriage." The woman said after a moment, wincing slightly as she tightened the material even though it wasn't her sucking in her stomach.

Diaspro glared contemptuously at the woman, "I'm seventeen."

"Seventeen! She is just a child, and now is for fun, right girl?"

Vanessa gave the woman a sharp look, barely hiding her distaste for the subject. "She is too expensive for fun." She practically sneered even though it was barely noticeable through the caked-on make-up. "I expect results from this gown." She gave the woman a scornful smile as the woman flinched at her work being note enough for the woman's high expectations.

The woman bowed her head submissively. "Don't worry Mrs. Peters. She will be as beautiful as stardust." She said before she returned her attention to Crystal's neckline, sticking the pins back in her mouth as she focused on the task at hand.

Vanessa finally took notice of Bloom's presence in the room by swiping her gaze from her khaki pants to the much-to-large boots that covered her feet. She scowled slightly, her lips going down in contempt at seeing Bloom again. "Why aren't you at the market?" She inquired. Translation: Why aren't you making me money you lazy child? Bloom narrowed her eyes ever so slightly but bit her tongue.

"It closed down early today." Bloom cast a meaningful look at the screen above the mantel that Vanessa didn't bother following, only nodding to herself. Feigning nonchalance, Bloom pointed down the hallway. "So, I'm just going to get cleaned up, and then I'll be ready for my dress fitting." She said.

The seamstress paused. "Another dress Mrs. Peters? I did not bring enough material for another-"

"Have you replaced the magbelt on the hover yet?"

Bloom's smile faltered, "No. Not yet."

"Well then." Vanessa bit back a smile. "None of us will be able to go to the ball without transportation, now will we?"

Bloom stifled her irritation, the previous times they had already had this conversation playing back in her mind. "I need money to buy a new magbelt. It'll be 700 gems at least. If income from the market wasn't deposited directly into your account, I would have bought one by now." She said, trying to snuffle out her emotions before Vanessa could notice a hint of rebellion from her.

Vanessa placed her hands on her hips. "And trust you not to spend it all on your ridiculous and childish toys." She said toys with a curl of her lip in disgust and a scowl pointed at Tecna as Tecna shrunk behind Bloom. Technically though, Tecna belonged to her but Bloom didn't dare point that out. "Besides I can't afford both a magbelt and a new dress you'll only wear once. You'll have to find some other way of fixing the hover or find your own gown for the ball."

Irritation hardened in her gut, she might have pointed out that Diaspro and Crystal could have bought already made dresses so that she could have a dress too. She might have pointed out that the girls would be wearing their dresses one time as well. She could have pointed out that it was her hard-earned money that the woman was spending. But the words died on her lips, there was no use in starting an argument. Legally, Bloom belonged to Vanessa as much as the android, her money, and the few possessions she owned. Bloom released her anger before Vanessa could see a spark of rebellion. "I may be able to offer a trade for the magbelt. I'll check with the local shops." She said instead.

Vanessa wrinkled her nose, her gaze traveling to Tecna, even as Bloom sheltered her. "Why don't we trade that worthless android for it?" From the corner of her vision Tecna shrunk even more behind her, her sensor dimming. Bloom racked her brain for something to say, rather than just pleading. Pleading would get her nowhere and meant nothing to Vanessa, other than amusement.

"We wouldn't get much for her." She said, trying to pry the emotion out of her voice, it was true, they wouldn't get much for the android and Vanessa most likely only offered the idea just to spite Bloom. "Nobody wants such an old model." Bloom said, adjusting her body to provide more protection to Tecna.

Vanessa sniffed, tapping a long nail against her chin. "Fair point. Perhaps, I will have to sell the both of you off as spare parts." Vanessa returned her attention to Diaspro's dress, fixing the unfinished hem of Diaspro's sleeve. "I don't care how you fix it, just fix it before the ball-and cheaply. I don't need that pile of junk taking up parking space, but perhaps the Prince would notice Diaspro over the rest of the harpies there." She mused the last part to herself, smirking slightly.

Bloom tucked her hand into her back pockets, hope igniting inside of her. "Are you saying that if I fix the hover and find something suitable to wear for the ball, I can really go to the ball?" She didn't want to get to excited but the idea of going to a dance, just for once, to forget about her problems sounded like the most amazing thing in the world. Maybe someone would befriend her and help her.

Vanessa's lips puckered at the corners. "It will be a miracle if you can find something suitable to wear that will hide your eccentricities." Her gaze dropped to Bloom's boots as Bloom shifted slightly, resisting the urge to shiver at the venom in that single word. "But, yes, I suppose that you can go to the ball on those conditions." Vanessa said.

Crystal flashed her a stunned and cheerful smile, her eyes lighting up, while Diaspro spun on their mother. "You can't be serious! Her go with us? Can you even imagine the rumors that people are going to say? It is going to ruin my chances of finding a husband!"

Bloom leaned against the door frame, trying to hide her disappointment from Crystal. Diaspro's outrage was pointless. A little orange light had flickered in the corner of her vision at the proclamation from Vanessa-she hadn't meant her promise. "Well." She said, attempting to look excited with a false smile of her own like she was even fooled. "I guess I'd better go find a magbelt then."

Vanessa flourished her arm at Bloom, her attention returning to Diaspro's dress as the girl silently seethed from her spot, her hands shaking and her eyes narrowed into slits. A silent dismissal from Vanessa. Bloom cast a glance at her stepsisters' sumptuous gowns before backing away from the room. She had barely turned when Crystal squealed, "Prince Sky!" Freezing, she glanced back at the netscreen. The plague alerts had been replaced with a live broadcast from the palace pressroom. Prince Sky was speaking to a crowd of journalist, both human and android.

Diaspro batted the seamstress away, "Volume on." She ordered.

"….research continues to be our top priority." The prince was saying, gripping the sides of the podium. "Our research team is determined to find a vaccine for this that has taken one of my parents and threatens to take the other, as well as tens of thousands of our citizens. The circumstances are even more desperate in face of the outbreak in the city limits. No longer can we claim that this disease is regulated to our poor, rural communities. Letumosis threatens us all and we will find a way to stop it. Only then can we begin to rebuild our economy and return Eracklyon to its former glory."

Unenthusiastic applause shifted over the entire crowd. Research on the plague had been underway since the first outbreak in a small town in Andros over a dozen years ago. It seemed very little progress had been made since that time. Meanwhile, hundreds of thousands of outbreaks had unconnectedly occurred in communities throughout the universe. Hundreds of thousands had fallen ill, suffered, and eventually died. Even, Vanessa's husband had contacted it on a trip to Melody, the same time he agreed to be the guardian of an eleven-year-old cyborg named Bloom. One of her few memories of him was of him being carted away while Vanessa raved about him leaving her with this thing.

Vanessa never talked about her husband, and few memories of him lingered in the apartment. One of the only reminders that he even existed was on the mantel, a row of awards that showed him winning the science fair, three-years running, medallions and statutes alike. Although whatever he invented had clearly not taken off since he left his family little to no money upon his untimely death.

On the screen, the prince's speech was cut short. A stranger ran onto the platform and handed him a note with an expression of sympathy. The prince read the note before his eyes clouded over and the screen blackened. The pressroom was replaced with a desk before a blue screen. A woman sat behind it, her expression solemn and her knuckles whitened from clutching the desk.

"We interrupt his imperial highness's press conference with an update on his imperial majesty King Erendor. The king's physicians have just informed us that his majesty has entered the third stage of Letumosis." The woman said stonily. The seamstress pulled the pins from her mouth, gasping. Bloom pressed herself against the door frame. Guilt washed over her, she hadn't offered the prince her condolences or wishes that the king would get better. He must think that she was so insensitive, so ignorant. "We are told that everything is being done to ensure his imperial majesty's comfort at this time, and palace officials tell us that researchers are working nonstop to find a cure. Volunteers are still urgently needed for antidote testing."

The woman took a minute to breath as Bloom felt herself sag against the door, shock had washed over everyone in the room. Probably everyone in the universe was reeling from the same shock. She couldn't believe this, closing her eyes she mentally kicked herself, she should have said something kinder to the prince, the glare she had given him. She had glared at someone who was losing the last of his blood. It made her feel even more guilty.

"There has been some controversy regarding the thousandths anniversary ball due to the king's illness. Prince Sky says that the preparations for the ball will continue as scheduled and he hopes it will bring some joy to this otherwise tragic time." The anchor paused, hesitating, even with the prompter before her. Her face softened and her voice had a warble in it as she muttered. "Long live the king."

The seamstress muttered the same words back to the ancho. The screen went black again before it returned to the pressroom, but Prince Sky had left the podium. Reporters were in an upheaval as they told the tragic news to their individual cameras. "I know a cyborg who would volunteer for testing." Diaspro said, smirking at Bloom. "Why wait for the draft?" Diaspro asked continuing to look down on Bloom.

Bloom leveled Diaspro with a glare, who was nearly seven inches shorter than she was, despite being over a year older. "Excellent idea. Then you can get a job to pay for your pretty dress." Bloom said frostily.

Diaspro snarled at her, "They reimburse the families wirehead." Bloom had already known how much money would be paid and even then, that money would eventually go out if she was to be volunteered, they would soon have to get a job. But she bit her tongue, trying to ease her anger at Diaspro. She clutched the doorframe tightly, her knuckles whitening.

The cyborg draft had started over a year ago by some royal research team. Every morning a new ID was drawn from the pool of the thousands of cyborgs who resided in Eracklyon. Subjects had been carted in and out of the lab facilities, some came in alive and never came out and some came in alive and were not given the plague, but those were rarities. They were told it was an honor to serve for the good of humanity but all it was, was a bitter reminder that they weren't like anyone else. They had been given second chances at life by the generous hands of scientists and therefore owed their own existence to those who created them.

"We can't volunteer Bloom." Crystal cut in, bunching her skirt in her hands "I need her to fix my portscreen." Diaspro rolled her eyes and turned away from the both of them. Crystal scrunched her nose at her sister's back, not liking the way that her elder sister had talked to Bloom.

"Stop bickering." Vanessa said waving a handing dismissingly, "Crystal, you're wrinkling your skirt."

Bloom backed out of the room, finally. Tecna was two steps ahead of her, eager to escape the presence of Vanessa and Diaspro. She appreciated the fact that Crystal had come to her defense but in the end, it wouldn't matter. Vanessa would never volunteer her for testing because it would be the end of her only source of income, and Bloom was positive her stepmother had never worked a day in her life. But, if the draft chose her, no one could do anything about it. And lately, it seemed a disproportionate number of cyborgs had been chosen from Eracklyon and the surrounding planets.

Every time one of those draft victims was a teenage girl. Bloom imagined a clock ticking inside of her head.