Tyrant

(𝟺) 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑

The Queen of the Apocalypse prowls around The City like a coyote.

Raeyan is a shadow, her concise movements silent, deadly, concealed. Like she's trained her whole life as some assassin.

She drifts in and out of building shades, angling her slender body to camouflage with the scenery to avoid the dreaded Enforcers.

Where did she learn to move like this? I ask myself as I watch her inconspicuously, trailing silently as she had instructed me. We were travelling down a slim, dirty road, buildings staring us down like brick-colored owls. I assumed we were growing closer to our destination, based on the general location the Queen had spoke of. 

Queen. Sure. 

Slayer of the Apocalypse fits better. Look at her clothes!

You'll probably look the same soon. Aren't you joining her little rebel group?

Didn't you abandon your entire plan for this?

I quietly ponder my questions as I walk, Raeyan still creeping around in the shadows. 

Am I even sure that she's leading me to her little rebel group? What if I had somehow misunderstood? She hadn't outright said 'join our revolutionary cause', courtesy of the miniscule chips in our throats, monitoring our every breath. 

Sometimes, the urge to rip that disgusting chip out of my throat, using my own damn nails, is overwhelming. 

I hate the chip.

My constant thoughts and questions, pouring down my head like endless weighty raindrops, are interrupted by the shocking sight of a monument so monstrous. An electricity tower.

Few electricity towers remained in The City, which made energy currents a rare commodity, if one occupied a house. Most people just made homes on the filthy, crime-ridden streets, where trash and waste coated every visible surface, every individual's dejected visage. Countless homes, shops and buildings were purposely destroyed and demolished to prevent safety and food storage.

To prevent the gathering of families, friends, loved ones. 

Because when we have food in our bellies, love from our families, and a house to shelter us, we feel stronger. 

Powerful, even. 

Because alone we can do so little, while together we can do so much. 

I look back up at the tower looming in the distance. 

Together, huh.

It was startlingly reminiscent of the skyscraper I had mesmerizingly stared at from my bedroom window at the age of eight. My family and I had moved to that stunning new apartment for my-

Don't think about Before. 

It hurts.

It seems that even after fifteen years of brutal conflict and unfair death, recalling times of peace and normalcy never grew easier. There was always that painful question of why.

Why did this happen. Why is the world unjust, immoral, cruel?

Is it fair that we only felt the cool, comforting breeze of contentment, then were thrown into the violent tornado of dysphoria and misery?

No. It's not fair. 

So try to create change. 

I search for Raeyan in the shadows, distracting myself from this new rash, rebellious force that had been birthed in me. I spy her slowing down, possibly to confirm I'm still behind her and alert.