Scanning through the document, you feel dread. Words pop out at you: "maladjusted... for your own good...danger to Society...report to the Readjustment Office immediately."

A deep, burning anger chases away your dread. Seeing your own anger, you realize that they're probably right. Since earliest childhood, you've been trained that the delicate social structure needs 100% harmony. That's why everyone needed to dress the same and think the same. Why be angry about it?

But you are.

You are not going to be punished for not fitting in. The small cubby seems to shrink, constricting your soul. Ground seems to press in on you from all sides.

You have to get out.

You shudder, resigned. Even if it means death, you have to go Above. Unfortunately, it will likely be an uncomfortable death, not like the long life followed by sterile sleep of their world down here.

Already, it is "their" world, you notice. No longer yours.

You deliberately imagine radioactive winds asphyxiating you, biological germs eating away your insides, and worse--you imagine being captured by the misshapen creatures who lived through the end of the world: mutants. The High Keepers assured everyone that they still rampaged Above. Only mutants would be left after two decades of post-apocalyptic chaos.

Fuck it, you think crazily. Better the mutants than kissing these groundhog's backsides.

You know of a tunnel that probably leads to Above. You discovered it on a childhood exploration. You still remember the odd, exciting smell of the air that wafted gently from the small upward-sloping tunnel. Of course, the High Keepers sealed it up, but you remember where it is.

Choose:

A) You leave the life you've known to brave a dangerous future Above.

B) You decide to conform and try to make the best of your safe, secure existence.