We stole everything we could carry, loaded up our dead, downloaded all the data we could, and burned everything else to the ground. I stood with the other deadmen, watching their yellow, red, and orange eyes reflect the fire that matched them in color. I saw sadness in some of them, rage in others, and determination in all. The undertaker that led them was the only one unphased by the losses and violence. I took a moment to wish him luck, and then broke off from the rest of them, heading deeper into STAR territory. Matthews and her operation had been our primary target, and I knew I’d need to assist with it, but I had another thing to take care of. A debt I felt I owed to a friend. I had discussed my plan with Julian and Nico. Nico had warned me against it, saying it was an unnecessary risk, but Julian had noted that it worked in our best interests by further destabilizing the Remnants.

I walked through the night, and a large part of the day. The facility we’d attacked had already been close to my target, I assumed because the medical equipment they were using had been liberated from it with my help, and it made sense to simply set it up nearby. The Remnants were in a rush to see us gone.

By evening what was left of the Republic’s walls came into view. I could see American flags flying high atop those parts of it that still remained. I found a small patch of trees a few miles from the walls and waited for night to fall. I checked my notifications to pass the time.

Congratulations Citizen! You have earned ranks in Melee Weapons! From Bowie knives to Pickett’s charge, the US may have been too advanced for swords, but it’s spilled blood for freedom!

Congratulations Citizen! You have earned a rank in Pistol! Good job exercising your 2nd amendment rights!

I found it interesting that the las-pistol also seemed to earn me ranks in Pistol. I wondered whether that was because recognizing them was built into the system or it was a result of whatever A.I. that helped upgrade the system doing what it could to keep things running. I felt a small amount of sympathy for it, having to keep a system running that had been described by its own architect as being held together by ‘spit and duct tape’ was almost certainly a full time job.

I sat and watched the walls with my binoculars. I noticed commotion, and a lot of movement. Likely word had reached the soldiers of the various attacks that both Pott’s and the Horde had carried out in the last night. Instead of fortifying their own position however, I watched as several transports carried STAR soldiers away from The Republic, likely to reinforce taken positions or counterattack. It was a good strategy on paper. They likely didn’t think we’d strike so deep into their territory in a followup after our initial attack, and they had higher priority targets to protect then the hollowed out captive city state the Republic had become.

When the night hit its darkest point, I moved from my shaded hiding place and began circling around the walls, searching for the area where the defenses were at their weakest. I wished I had a jump pack to simply carry me over them, but Julian had requested I leave them with him to study, and I obliged. I needed the advantage less than I felt the other deadmen did.

I found an area where the wall was simply cracked and crumbling rather than torn down. There were no patrols, and I ran from cover to the base of it, hoping that my black coat would camouflage me in the dark. At the wall, I used the areas that were cracked as handholds and pulled myself up and over the top without issue. I leapt down onto the other side and stood still for a moment, listening for movement and taking a whiff of the air. I detected a few people, but none seemed to be moving toward me, and the scent of them wasn’t mixed with gunpowder or ozone so I presumed they weren’t guards or armored Remnants.

I still had a good grasp of the city's layout from the last time I’d been there, and used that mental impression to make my way through. Not much had changed. The passages praising the prophet still covered the walls. Murals of him still decorated buildings. The only change was areas that included recruitment posters from the Remnants, that seemed to be endorsed by the prophet himself, his face and words plastered across them as ubiquitously as they had been on the walls. The price of his survival as the leader of his people, if I had to guess. A disgusting compromise considering what the people of the Republic had been doing in his name.

I climbed onto one of the rooftops, and began leaping between the buildings, making my way toward the center of the city, where I knew the largest of the buildings were located. I didn’t have a precise location for the prophet, but I knew his kind. Whatever building was the most ostentatious and largest, would be his.

I reached the center of the city without much issue. Only needing to flatten myself on top of a roof once to avoid a man across the alley who had decided that 1am was a fine time for gardening. When I reached the center I found my theory proven correct. There was a building with a life size statue of the prophet, assuming he was nearly my height. It was covered in murals finer than any of the others I’d seen in the city, and smelled so richly of tobacco that I detected the scent a block away, and there was a rich garden planted on its roof. Unlike the rest of the city, I saw two power armored guards waiting at the front door. Likely keeping him under guard just as much as guarding him.

Rather than attempt to go through the front door, I circled around until I found a building next to his with the roof nearly connecting. I climbed to the top of it and leapt into his garden. I smelled jasmine, tobacco, and blood as I landed. The scents were so strong they nearly overwhelmed me for a moment, but I managed to regain control of my senses quickly. I searched the roof, and found a small hatch. I slid it open, gritting my teeth at the noise of the metal straining as I did so. I dropped down inside, and heard movement.

“Someone there?” came a voice, followed by approaching footsteps.

I ducked into the shadows in the corner and waited. A STAR soldier appeared in the doorway and walked toward the trap door. I froze him, stepped behind him and slit his throat, propping him in the same dark corner I’d been hiding in before making my way into the hallway. I could detect four more people inside. Two were in one room, and two more were just outside of it. I made my way toward them, updating my mental map of the interior as I moved. I rounded a corner and heard talking.

“I’ve already told you no. One of the conditions of our agreement is that you need to follow the same laws as other Americans. We already give you significant leeway, especially with the gray areas that have become so rampant here, but age of consent is one that we’re going to need to be strict on.”

“I have heard your excuses before.” There was a pause. “You’ll forgive me then, if I suddenly have a bit of difficulty encouraging my men and women to sign up with you, or work in your little factories without pay in my name. If I cannot engage with some of my younger female followers, then I suffer from terrible headaches that prevent me from doing so many things, you see.” I recognized the voice as that of the Prophet, though I’d only heard it through speakers before.

“If you want a headache, we could have you hauled out of your precious ‘Republic’ and shot in the head.”

“We both know you won’t,” said the Prophet with contempt in his voice. “You need things to go smoothly. Now more than ever.”

“Fine,” said the other man with disgust in his voice. “We may be able to work something out. There were plenty of ‘states rights’ loopholes when it came to marrying girls under the age of consent back before the bombs fell. You’d be limited to just one girl at a time though.”

“Hmmm, I could work with that… for now.”

I’d heard enough. I walked out from the hallway and into the room. The prophet looked surprisingly like the murals that depicted him. He was older, and handsome, and actually was nearly my height wearing a self satisfied smirk on the corner of his mouth until he saw me and his expression changed to one of horror.

I Froze him, and approached the man across from him, wearing the black uniform of the Remnants.

“What’s the face for? I’m giving you what you wa-”

I drove my knife into the back of his skull, killing him instantly, and gently lowered his body to the ground. I then lifted the prophet up, freezing him again, and started making my way to the trapdoor. I dragged him out, keeping him still, and placed him in the center of the rooftop. I took rope from my bag, and tied his hands and feet. Then I pulled one of the timed bombs I’d received from Mercy out of it. I set the timer for four minutes, and pried open his jaw. There was some resistance, but once it was dislocated I was able to fit the bomb in his mouth with no issues. I tied a rag around it, and let the Freeze fade.

The Prophet let out a noise that reminded me of a wounded animal, but it wasn’t loud enough to draw any attention.

I took a moment to look him in the eyes and smile. “I could’ve done this slow. It’s not really my style, but some people deserve it… In your case though, I thought I’d give you a bit of Mercy.”

I didn’t wait for him to react to that statement, the clock was ticking after all. So I leapt to the nearest roof, and made my way toward the wall, making it nearly a quarter of the way before I heard the explosion.