2.05: Sr Shannon

Date: Monday 4 February 2041ce 1100z
Location: Last World Citadel, Louisville, Kentucky (-0500)

When the plans for Last World Citadel were initially drawn out, the intended occupants of the small, utilitarian apartments situated on the fifth floor had already been known. When describing them to the architect, however, Honored High Reverend Marshal had regarded them as ‘Guest Apartments’, and having done so ensured that this was what the plans would refer to them as.

As guest apartments, they had served as the temporary quarters of visiting Congregates from across the nation visiting on Citadel business.

Recently, however, the High Reverends Council designated five of the rooms to receive their permanent residents.

Apartment 507 had been chosen by one of those residents for its westward view, overlooking the Marshal Estate which shared a property line with Citadel, and its proximity to the stair case.

With curtains pulled closed, there was little light within the apartment. Even in such light, once one’s eyes adjusted to its scarcity, it was easily seen that the room was spartan in decor: Walls and ceiling painted a light beige, with matching carpet flecked with strands of color. There was a desk in one corner, with its network console and monitor screen. And along the longest wall, beneath the narrow windows, a plain white dresser upon which an alarm clock and datapad rested. Mounted on another wall, positioned so as to be the first thing a visitor would see, the rough-hewn wood crucifixal favored by Last World Baptist Church.

Along the far wall, a small bed within which slept a single female form.

Slept, that is, until the alarm began to issue its soft chime.

That chime began at the lowest volume possible, but with after a few seconds the chime would repeat itself at a slightly higher volume. With the third chime, the overhead lights would come on, also at a dim setting that gradually grew warmer and brighter.

Although awakened by the first chime, the figure twisted in a nimble manner to rise up into a sitting position as the fourth round began, feet planted on the floor. From that position, she stretched her arms and shoulders lightly, the image of a ballerina with long pillow-fashioned red hair.

By the seventh chime, just as the volume was reaching a level one might regard as annoying, the young woman turned the alarm off as she glided past the dresser on the way to the water closet.

The End is nigh…

Chaplain Sister Shannon Marshal began her day.

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