Just twenty minutes ago, the Knights’ command center served as a food pantry for the hungry Naturals of the Zielkkenhomvilles that encroached the Palmas district. A former warehouse the Knights themselves had adapted to suit their purpose, to help others, regardless of anything that stood in Palmas not because the Knights wanted to be in a bridger district, but for protection. Was illegal for soldiers to just barge into a bridger district without due cause.

Of course what due cause meant was left open to interpretation, one of the compromises the drafting party of the Non-Enhanced Defense Act had to agree to, but it was better than nothing. And people liked the Knights, so not even Julius would have dared to blast off their command center. Heck, the Knights even served Impures and Esneas who had fallen on hard times. Unable to pay their Eugenex loans. Even had beds until the fallen Esneas could adapt to their new reality in the Zielkkenhomvilles. And I was certain that if an Achroite had arrived, they would have served him anyway. Of course, it was almost impossible that happened, but it was the thought that counted.

But now, charred remnants stood as a testament of what happened when you crossed the government and terrorists. The Harmonists had blasted it. Exploded it. Bastards. Bloody battle. Like a massive fire had occurred. Corpses still on the floor. Stench of gunpowder and smoke. The wails and cries of Wexford again. It took the Holy Spirit’s water to douse the flames of wrath that pulsed through my veins. People who looked more dead than alive. Terrorists, they were. The Harmonists. Nothing but filthy terrorists who wanted everyone to go to the scorching place, who wanted everyone to lose their souls, just like Zielkkenhom, but worse.

That kind of thinking would have branded you a traitor in some circles, but not even Zielkkenhom had blasted off a command center of the Knights. Only the Harmonists had attacked people who helped the poor, people who wanted peace. At least here in the USN. But then again, Zielkkenhom did promote Eugenex. And I guessed technically what the Harmonists did to the Knights paled in comparison to what Zielkkenhom did to the souls of the world when he introduced Eugenex, when he promoted Eugenex as the best thing ever created.

But you couldn’t see what Zielkkenhom had done, because you couldn’t see people’s souls, but you could see what the Harmonists had done. The devastation. And for what? To steal the Knights’ weapons? Technology? Not worth it. But in their twisted minds, anything was worth it to topple Zielkkenhom, to become rulers themselves.

An ice blade of fire sliced my veins. Because I could not do a thing. I thought on darting off to stop whatever the Harmonists had in mind with the weapons they stole, but I was infected. I thought on sprinting to my district, to save everyone, but I was infected. Most likely infected. And would have infected my family if I raced there. And everyone else. I called Tim but he did not answer. I called my parents. And they did not answer either. And the Ceremony was taking place in ten minutes.

But what were the Harmonists thinking of? A simple blast wouldn’t have killed the Achroites, much less Zielkkenhom. Only the Naturals and maybe the Impures would have died. Unless they were planning on killing them. That’s whom they ended up killing in the blast. Naturals. All the Knights were Naturals. Only thing I could think of was that they were going to get close enough to explode a grenade right next to Zielkkenhom and Fain, but they’d need an insider for that.

Was that it? An Achroite working for the Harmonists. “Dyse, do you have anyone in the Ceremony?”

“Some operatives,” he said. “But they haven’t seen anyone suspicious. All of Zielkkenhom’s security forces are legit.”

“Then your intel’s wrong.” I called Tim again. Texted him. No response. “There has to be an infiltrated Achroite. Working for the Harmonists.” I called my parents again. Silence answered me.

If I had run, I could have alerted my family. Or infected them. I would not let Nathaniel annihilate whomever had survived his terrorist attack, even if I risked my life. I would not let the Harmonists slaughter the innocent in the Ceremony. Because even if I died, at least there'd had been one person less to spread the virus. But I would not die. Not to Aisha's would be murderer. Not to terrorists. Not to the Harmonists.

But recklessness would not join me. “Give me a biomask.”

Dyse leaned toward me. Must have thought I was insane. Or worse. A sinner. Sinful. Because biomasks could not completely isolate saliva particles; nothing could. Because I would risk infecting everyone just to save my family. To save those at the Ceremony.

They would all live. They would all survive. I would not kill them. Regardless of my mind telling me I would infect them.

Dyse snatched a biomask that had survived the flames, just before I could. Still on the ground. Clutched by the hands of a charred corpse. More like a painting than a human. Or at least, that’s what I told myself, though I knew how callous it felt, though gravels pummeled my chest. To desensitize myself. So tears of wrath and grief of rage would not cloud my vision. My judgment.

I thought ire would have pulsed through my veins. That a stupid mask had survived. And so many people had not. But I felt relieved. That I would save those at the Ceremony. That the Knights whose souls the Harmonists’ bombs blasted to Heaven had saved everyone in death, as if they knew someone would need the biomask, because they had a higher purpose, a higher calling, a call I aspired to have. A call I feared I’d have.

Would my soul be strong enough? To give my life for someone else?

Dyse placed the biomask between his hands, about to tear it, as if it were nothing but paper, though I did not think him strong enough to tear the biomask’s silicone nanofilaments. But looks deceived. Something I knew firsthand. He must have thought it wasn’t worth it risking a pandemic to stop a possible attack. To save Zielkkenhom and his sycophants.

“I won’t let you—”

I snatched the biomask from Dyse’s grasp, and thrust him back, as if it meant saving someone’s life. And I guessed it did. Though guilt iced me when I saw that I had fisted a Knight. And it did not leave my veins. But I clenched my fists and glared at Dyse, as if I felt nothing. “I don’t need your permission.”

I thought terror would nest in Dyse’s eyes, or that he’d at least tremble, as my bridging scars could not let me look soft, but they did not. He did not. Disappointment made its home.

That axed me more. Because the mosquitoes bit me again. Was I forsaking my God? Was I forsaking our Lord?

Dyse raised his chin. “Suit yourself, Cael.” He turned, and began to march away. “But with alleged friends like you, it’s no wonder the Harmonists feel emboldened to bomb us.” He stopped. “Just think about where your loyalties lie, Cael.”

“My loyalties lie with God,” I said. “As should yours.”

No answer. I thought he’d say something, think something, but he didn’t. He just kept walking. Though I prayed he did not let Zielkkenhom fester in his mind. But an ice grave entombed my mind. I had thought Dyse was drifting away, but what if I was the one in need? Was I the one drifting away? Because Zielkkenhom’s ríceablæd already swamped at my brain? Because I could not obliterate seven years of Rebirth School indoctrination?

For a second, I thought of staying, as I held the biomask near my face, still, frozen, though I did not tremble. I thought I would have. I guessed because it was not fear what petrified me. I guessed because it was not terror what immobilized me. But guilt. Concern. That I had taken the wrong road. That the road not taken would forever claw at me.

Was that the road I wanted to walk? Was it the road God wanted me to march on? Once I put on the biomask. Once I could not return.

I did not take a deep breath. I did not say any words. I did not do a thing that would let even more hesitation ooze from the bemired gravels that pounded me, as fists against my brain. I just thought Lord, let this be Your will and I put on the biomask. Suffocating thing. Imprisoned your face. Entangled itself against your temples. To the point it felt kind of constricting. But it was a spring lough compared to the Bridge.

But as soon as I stepped ahead, my smartwatch rang.

Tim.

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