I could not think. I could not reason. The girl I … the Achroite I had set my hopes on. The Achroite I thought would change things. The Achroite I thought was different from the others. The girl I … had fooled me. Played me. Read me like an open book. And I had fallen. I guessed because I wanted to. I guessed because I wanted to think she was like Aisha. That she really cared about Naturals and Enhanceds. That she really wanted Naturals and Enhanceds working together, as Aisha and I clamored that day, the day we passed the Non-Enhanced Defense Act. But I suppose I was wrong. I guessed my brother was right, though I loathed admitting it.

The heart clouded proper judgment. Hope and wishful thinking clouded rational behavior. And left you at risk of betrayal, of someone reading your body language, your cues, of someone knowing you more than you know yourself.

And that had happened with Almyra. But I would not wallow in my mistake. I stood. I would not falter. I would not cower. Because if the Harmonists wanted to infect everyone, if the Harmonists wanted to start a mass pandemic, if the Harmonists wanted to kill my family, force it into the crossfire between the civil war they wanted to wage against Zielkkenhom, then they would have to kill me first.

I would save my family. I would save them all.

I sprinted toward the Ceremony. Laser focus. Thinking they were alive. Thinking they were safe. Praying for their wellbeing. Past the streets that led to my district, past the Esne guards whom I ordered to look the other way in exchange for a recommendation to the Eugenex lottery. Grief axed me. That they cared about such transient things. Rotting treasures of the world. But I did not stop. The buildings past me, a blur. The usual stench of raw Eugenex vanished from my mind. As if nothing existed. As if only my family lived. My family. And my district.

My legs still raced, as if I were in the Bridge. Though I thought the ice spikes that sliced my soul would have turned my body a statue. Because I did not care in the slightest. That I had told the Esne guards to shirk their responsibilities, their duties, for me. And that I thought nothing of it. Felt nothing of it.

And then it clouted me. I had done that several times before. And thought nothing of it. Until now. Wretched gravels. Because you never knew when they’d strike. Because you never knew when they’d lapidate you.

But it was for my family. Now. Before. It had always been to save others, the Naturals, those too weak to defend themselves. The innocent. Natural. Or Enhanced. It was not for murder. It was not to justify a civil war.

I prayed for my family. And though not even the adrenaline numbed me to the pain my legs pulsated, I sprinted ahead. The purified Éastanacsa that reeked of putrid raw Eugenex, a mere stream past me. I still stood some wards away. But soon I’d save them all.

I ran.

Until I caught sight of a mammoth verdant translucent sphere the size of a nuclear explosion that blasted off right into the Ceremony, right into my district. And razed it. Did not even leave a smoke plume. Annihilated it from the face of the Earth. Until nothing but a handful of debris remained. Because it seemed as if everything had melted off. As if my district had never existed. As if nothing stood where my home once was.

Again.

The buildings. The greenhouses and trees. The people. Tears clouded my sight. Because not even my desensitization techniques could help me cope. Because everyone I knew … ma and pa, Ellie, Tim, Almyra, even if she was a Harmonist, I …

I fell to my knees. The people. Not even their corpses must have remained. The stench that pervaded the area. Dozens of neighborhoods away. Raw Eugenex. The most caustic substance known to humanity. Weaponized.

A raw Eugenex cannon. A raw Eugenex blast.

And my family, my district, had been the guinea pigs.

I guessed Zielkkenhom had died in the blast as well, and Fain, but it was not worth it. I did not care what lies the Harmonists espoused to justify their massacre. How many innocents must had they annihilated in my district? Naturals. Impures. Esneas. I had the answer.

Seventy-eight thousand one hundred twenty two souls. Gone. In one blink. In one second.

Not counting all the Achroites and Fenglas who must have gone to the Ceremony. And yet, the Harmonists thought that justice. The Harmonists thought that fair. Justified. Because it was for a noble goal. Or at least that’s what they told themselves. And I feared they had begun to believe their own lies.

Because nothing noble arose from a megalomaniac’s covetousness of power and control.

I had seen Terrance. I did not think him capable of such devastation. Of such disregard for human life. For the lives of the people he clamored he protected. For the lives of the people he was meant to save.

I guessed because he didn’t want to save them. He didn’t want to protect them. He’d have slaughtered them all if it meant he’d rule. And how could people fall for such blatant demagoguery?

And then my smartwatch activated. The breaking news feed.

Except that it wasn’t the usual newscasters. But a white screen. And a disembodied voice speaking. Altered. So it sounded deeper and with more gravitas, similar to the enhancements Julius used. And you couldn’t tell who was speaking. But it had to be Terrance. But how could he hack into the USN’s national channel? The USN boasted a pretty safe network system.

And then it clouted me.

Insider help. Almyra. And yet, Terrance killed her. Used her and discarded her. As he did with everyone at that Ceremony. As he’d do with the other Harmonists, even the Limbs. How could they follow him?

“Fellow citizens of the United States of the North, oppressed masses of our land,” a disembodied voice said. Terrance said. Rather, Freedom’s Voice said. His alter ego. They said he did not exist. As the nation had only heard his voice. But I was certain it was Terrance. It had to be. “Today, 14 Reifare Year 17, a raw Eugenex blast has decimated the Zielkkenhom Awards Ceremony about to take place in the Autonomous City of the Immaculate Conception.

“I am certain that Chairman Daan Zielkkenhom, President Janor Fain, the vice president, the speaker of the House, and several key figures of the oppression have perished in the blast, along with scores of martyrs who sacrificed their lives for a higher purpose, a higher goal.”

Bastard. If I could punch him, I’d …

“So while my heart grieves for the victims who perished in the blast, joy deluges my soul, because the leaders that oppressed us are no more, because the structures that pervade entrenched discrimination and hate against those who do not conform to Zielkkenhom’s vision for the world, against those who will for truth are no more. As what is a moment of pain, for a lifetime of happiness? Of freedom? Of liberty?”

Seventy-eight thousand one hundred twenty two souls. His moment of pain. Nothing could calm the wrath that drowned me. And I feared it was because I did not want it to waver.

“So to those still in adherence to the Ancién Regime, to those still in lament over Zielkkenhom’s demise, I say: Surrender now, that we may avert a civil war. Because, if you fail to surrender by tomorrow, if you fail to eliminate the oppression that seeps through this great nation’s veins, as stricken blood cells that serve no purpose, I shall not hesitate, I shall not waver in my commitment to liberty, to freedom.

“So, in you I lay the anvil of peace, and the furnace of war. You, Achroites, Fenglas, Tussenvolken, decide which weapon you shall wield. For if you make the wrong decision, may the crimson sickle of liberty lay wrath upon you, our oppressors. May the swift lightning of justice char the injustice you subject us to. May the exploding arrows of righteousness cleanse your hearts and purify your wickedness, you who keep us enslaved. Those who force us, the lower classes, Naturals, Impures, Esneas, the weak, poor, huddled, and oppressed masses who pillar this nation to remain nothing more than vermin in your eyes.

“So it is time, my people, that we crystallize our hope, that we take for ourselves the spoils we deserve. For if we fail to act now, an opportunity like this will never present itself before us. So guided by my hand, guided by your dreams, Naturals, Impures, Esneas, I will lead you to liberty. I shall become the hammer of liberation that obliterates the Tower of Rebirth, the symbol of mistaken ríceablæd.

“Because in true ríceablæd, everyone is equal, everyone is the same. Everyone the same in VirtuaNet. Everyone an Achroite. Everyone a true citizen of the United States of the North. So let us storm the Tower of the Ancién Regime and give birth to a new age of freedom, liberty, and justice for all. Free from the mildheartness of Zielkkenhom toward traitors from foreign shores and saps who believe in fairy tales. So let us rejoice in the upcoming purity our nation shall enjoy once we cleanse our lands from them. Let us sing from the rooftops, from the iced islands of the north, the jungles of the south, the beaches of the east, and the mountains of the west. Let our lungs burst with the Drythléop.

“All onward the glorious land. All onward the land whence our ancestors hailed; all onward the glorious land, whence our present spreads; all onward the glorious land, whence our future shall emerge. All onward the new United States of the North, rid of Zielkkenhom and his sycophants. Rid of injustice. Rid of oppression. Rid of poverty and discrimination.

“All onward the United Democratic Republic of America. Enlightened. Equal. For all. So I bid you farewell for now, my fellow friends, while the once powerful squirm without their dear leader, their Chairman, their Fréa. Soon, we shall all rejoice in the blessings of freedom and prosperity for all.

“But for now, remember, I am fighting for us. For this nation. As the Acting President of our recently founded UDRA, as the leader of the Society of Harmonious Friends United in Constitutional Righteousness, and the Knights of Malta.”

Terrance was lying. They couldn’t claim a new nation. They couldn’t claim a new country. That bastard would not control our country. That liar would not rule. I would not let him massacre all those who opposed the Harmonists. Turn everyone into an Enhanced. He could not lead the Knights. He could not be their leader. Terrance wasn’t even a Christian. They could not have fallen for his lies. Not the Knights. Not them. Not those who saved my life. Not those who became martyrs in Europe during Eudora’s war. Not them. Not them. NOT THEM!

But before I could even take a step ahead, someone shot something at me. Crimson liquid dripped. The paralyzer. Julius.

He snatched my neck and kneed my nose. Felt how the blood oozed.

“Listen to me, guttersnipe,” he said. “I shall interrogate you, and you shall inform me of why were the Knights in hold of dozens of biomasks. Charred, granted. But nonetheless, it is suspicious that they were in preparation for an upcoming pandemic, and a terrorist attack at the heart of our nation. And that you are in wear of a biomask as well. As well as the reason for your absence at the Ceremony, as if you knew something would happen, now that it is known that the Harmonists and the Knights of Malta are, in fact, the same organization. I wager your knowledge of the recent blast.”

Julius kneed my stomach and thrust me against the street. Pressed his foot against my chest. “I swear that if either the Fréa or Almie suffered so much as a scratch, you shall lament the day you survived the old hag’s invasion of that putrid island of yours.”

First time I had seen an Achroite flash human wrath. Actual ire. But it was all moot now. My family gone. And if I didn’t answer how Julius wanted, I would soon join my family in the Afterlife.

I prayed for my soul.

Because I would not be in this Earth for long.

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