Tyrant

(𝟹1) 𝙼𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙲𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

"You wish to replace The One's position."

"Temporarily. Until we find someone more suitable for leading an entire Continent."

Raeyan Tira, reclining in a black metal chair as dark as her soul, taps a gloved finger against her thigh in consideration. Darcio, his rings glinting ominously under the fluorescent light of the Confidential Chamber, eyes The Top wearily, closely.

Waiting for her final response.

Waiting for her approval or denial.

To bring her Terminators and trained rebels to The One's Skyscraper, infiltrate it somehow, and kill my uncle.

A weak, flimsy plan that could end up sacrificing hundreds of innocent rebels.

But it's still a plan.

Raeyan flicks her white eyes between the warrior and me. "Hypothetically speaking, when do you plan on carrying this out?"

I purse my lips. She didn't flat out refuse-that's good. "Whenever you feel your rebels are ready." I say, and Darcio, from the chair by my side, taps my thigh under the metal table in silent reminder. "And-And once I receive my gun training."

The Top raises a groomed brow, her expression cool, neutral. "I would've thought you were already trained in that field?"

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and say, "No. Not yet."

Her eyes set upon Darcio. "Very well. I give you permission to use the shooting range. Start small, gradually build up. No rifles until a few weeks in."

A few weeks? Then when will we go through with the plan?

Darcio simply dips his chin, ever the obedient Third in Command. "Of course."

"And as for your idea," She starts, crossing her leather-clad arms, "It is risky to expose you like that. You-"

"I won't be exposed. I'll get into his chambers, kill him, and claim the seat of power for myself, as his niece. To restore everything to peace and then pass the role onto someone else. Someone capable."

Raeyan's visage stiffens at the interruption, but she says, "You think it's that easy? Just stride into your uncle's Skyscraper undetected and end him?" She leans forward in her seat, her white eyes flaring. "If you think we haven't tried that already, then you're wrong."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Darcio's features bunch up. "When has this been attempted?"

She looks down her nose at him. "Before you arrived at the Base. Six years ago."

Six years? She was seventeen-

Raeyan continues. "I had foolishly planned to walk right up to that Skyscraper, scraping up the few dedicated rebels I had located on the streets. With our weapons as our comrades, we had left the Base with the intention to kill the man that had spread so much evil." Shadows, dark and unrelenting, cloud her usually empty eyes. I note the regret weighing her words down.

A rough swallow, as though memories are being forced away somewhere in her. "Let's just say it was a massacre. We didn't even reach him-I was unaware Enforcers were patrolling every damn crevice of the building, every damn hallway and corridor." She hardens her face, putting up that emotionless mask again. "I had to start back from scratch. I lost many."

Including myself, she seemed to say. I had lost myself, too.

Darcio, with a deep stare at Raeyan, says, "It was not your fault. You didn't know."

The Top leans back into her metal chair with a look that could curdle milk. "I did not ask for pity, Third."

Darcio shakes his white head but doesn't say much more.