Tyrant

(𝟸𝟾) 𝙲𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝙷𝚘𝚖𝚎

The next morning, after showering in the Bath Sector and mentally preparing myself, I told The Top everything. 

She had taken Zehra and me to the ominous square-shaped room with the metal door—the Confidential Chamber—and sat us down on cold seats, demanding answers and explanations for exactly what had happened last night, what Arcane had said, and who Arcane is.

And with a heavy heart, I had told her everything, the still-wary Zehra nodding once in a while from her chair by my side in confirmation. Raeyan, like a stone-faced queen, sat through the story with a stillness reminiscent to that of a deadly statue. 

To my endless shock, she had been silent the entire time I was speaking—didn't stop to question or inquire. With her black-gloved fingers entwined atop the table, she merely watched Zehra and I with careful precision.

You are related to the most powerful man on this Continent. Her statement had been as icy as the metal chair I had been seated upon. As my friend from Before, she had not been aware I had an uncle, as her parents had known mine. 

Even I had not been aware I had an uncle. Why did my father never speak of his brother?

I had merely nodded at her, preparing for the final blow. For the words that would mean I am no longer welcome at the Base.

The words that would declare that I am endangering the rebels here, that would declare me a threat—and that I have to leave.

Raeyan had stood from her chair in a swift movement, the fluorescent light reflecting off her black leather suit like a death omen. And his ultimate goal is to take control of the nearby Continents? By turning his own citizens into Enforcers?

Yes. In the long-run.

The Top hadn't faltered for a second. I will think over this. In the meanwhile, you do not step foot outside this Base. As it has been.

I had pursed my lips at that but nodded nonetheless. She was letting me stay. That was all that mattered.

And as Astrid Harper calls my name, I snap back to the present like a rubber band—to the large Mainframe room I'm in.

"See, look—this is him." She gestures to one of her large monitors, a large flat-screen, and points to a small red dot labeled '15'—it shifts a few centimeters on the map every few minutes. 

I shift closer to the big desk supporting the monitor. "That's Caspian?"

We had been discussing many of the rebels here for the past twenty minutes, and I had requested she show me Caspian's current location. Out of curiosity.

"Yes. He's getting closer to the Base, and after being out for all these months, I would assume he's brought some potential rebels with him."

I stare at that dot with the number '15' above it. At my childhood friend who grows nearer every passing second. "When do you think he'll get here?"

Astrid zooms out on the large monitor, thinking as she takes a look at Caspian's surroundings. "I would say another day or so. He's covered a lot of ground these past few weeks."

My heart surges at that. Another day. 

A day. 

A day and I would see him—I would see Caspian Rivo.

Astrid seems to notice the restrained elation written all over my face, and vaguely asks, "He's very special?"

"A friend. A good one."

She raises her brows yet nods in understanding, then turns back to her screen—zooming out again with her fingers, revealing the entirety of the Continent, including Blackridge and Ashbourne. My eyes scan over the monitor.