Major Costain Dave scrolled through the news feeds, his body going rigid. The silence around him became absolute.
He found the interview. The name hit him first: Sangius Dave.
No. A namesake. It has to be.
He scrolled down. A picture loaded.
He gasped.
It was his father.
Dad. What have you done?
He found the video. The battle. The confrontation. He watched without blinking, until the moment Bryce pressed his bleeding fingers to his father's arm.
He watched his father dissolve.
Horror. Anger. Grief. Fear. They flooded him, freezing him in place.
Memories ambushed him.
Before World War III His father served as a soldier under scientist-Majors. He had always desire to be a General, Earning the nickname "The General". A year before the world burned, his dream came true, he became a General.
When the war started he sided with the scientists' and did dreadful things in the name of protection.
After the War, ten generals was picked to overseer the Military affairs. One died. One, Peter, his father's best friend, went rogue.
The war had changed Peter. He lost everything—wife, daughter, son. He tried to fill the void with Costain and Charlene, becoming their fierce protector. But he developed a philosophy: death is more peaceful than life. He'd hanged himself once and was saved. He emerged colder, ruthlessly pragmatic.
Peter's influence had seeped into his father. And now it had gotten him killed.
His father had served a lifetime. One crime, and they executed him? The Caliphates had granted Peter an immunity deal. But for his father? No trial. No mercy. Just a humiliating, gruesome death. And the public applauded.
A ping from his B-Wax shattered the silence. A message from Peter, sent hours ago.
If you ever feel alone, I have your back. The offer to join stands. I'm sorry I couldn't intervene. But make sure you deliver the package before joining.
He couldn't hold it anymore. Tears streamed down his face. He quickly bent forward, head on his knees, and wept silently.
After a long moment, he wiped his face and replied, his eyes blinked with newfound purpose.
I can't let Bryce go scot free. But I can't face him alone. If your group will help me, I'm in.
The reply was instantaneous.
We are ready to help. Come to West Ford Green Zone. The abandoned university. May we impeach Tyranny.
Costain stood up, his face a mask of cold resolve. "Attention! Pack up. We're moving out."
The militants jumped to action, loading the rovers.
"Leave the prototype," he commanded. "Use the briefcase to lock it. Input my name as the Passcode."
He watched them. Barrack Fifty-Nine had fallen.
Now, Barrack Thirty-One would fall with it.
Bryce would pay.