April, in her early 20s, looked like anyone’s young daughter.

She shouted out emotional pleas for equality.

She frequently stirred a reaction—a tear or a trembling hand—triggering cognitive dissonance—duty vs. justice, restraint vs. protection, oppression vs. empathy.

April hung onto a barrier. The enforcers wore uniforms and helmets with varying heights and sizes, and diverse faces, representing all walks of life.

But these carried no batons, no sprays, no weapons, no cuffs.

April shuddered. Something felt wrong.

Stillness, expressionless, dispassionate, without flinching—no tears.

One turned around, passing something along—revealing a metallic hand underneath a glove.