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There was unrest in the crowd; their voices were louder, angrier. There was commotion somewhere behind the stage, too, but I pressed on, because there was nothing else to do.

“All the while, they told you, over and over, to fear the outside world beyond these walls. They called it a Wasteland, and they branded the people they abandoned as dangerous animals intent on destroying our way of life. But let me ask you this: who has destroyed the lives of your family, your friends, your neighbours lately? Has it been Wastelanders? Have they been the ones who killed your loved ones in the street? Is it Wastelanders who filmed my father’s execution and lied for years about his death to conceal their crimes against their own people?”

More anger, and a few people shouted out a flurry of words I didn’t understand. In my peripheral vision, various people moved through the crowd, though I had no idea if they were coming or going. I kept my gaze fixed on the air above their faces, determined not to lose my nerve. My voice grew stronger, more assured.

“They wanted me to stand here and tell you to do nothing, to say nothing, to go home and keep pretending that this system of dominance and hatred is working. But it isn’t. We all know it. I ask you now to hold them accountable. End this. Or they will swallow up everything you love and they will laugh about it, because the only language they understand is violence. Acquiescence only prolongs your pain. The truth is the strongest weapon you have, but it is no weapon at all if you refuse to wield it.”

I took a sharp breath and covered my heart with my hand to deliver my last, most important message. “My final truth is this: my husband is a Wastelander. He’s the strongest, bravest, most fearless person I know. In this broken world where hatred, violence, and terror thrive, he taught me that love is a radical act of resistance—perhaps the only one that really matters.”

I unpinned the tiara from my hair and tossed it into the crowd. “I refuse to pretend anymore; if the Sire wants a puppet, he can find someone else.”

As soon as I stepped back from the podium, the crowd erupted, and it was difficult to gauge the general mood. There were cheers, clapping, and whistling, but there were also boos, guffaws, and general distaste. It didn’t matter. I’d done what Hamilton had asked, and what had been in my heart all along: I told the truth. The rest was up to them.

I turned to exit the stage, only to be greeted by a furious Julius wielding one of the electric stun rods that many of the Delta military carried. My heart sunk. They hadn’t thought he was armed, because he never usually was. Julius was above doing his own dirty work…or so we’d thought. He must’ve suspected something, and stunned his guards, including Hamilton.

A surge of fear filled me.

“You stupid girl,” he snarled at me, advancing toward me with the rod, which hummed with electricity. His eyes were wild in a way I’d never seen them before. “When we’re through with this, I will mount your head on the top of the Pyramid for all to see. You’re going to come and put this right.”

His hand closed hard around my wrist, and he jerked me back toward the podium. The crowd went crazy, jeering and booing him, and I pulled back, resisting. I didn’t know how he thought I could undo what was now beginning, but I refused nonetheless.

Julius’s eyes flashed with murder, and he swung the stun rod. It made contact with my side, and I crumpled, my muscles locking up. He left me there on the floor to take to the podium. People started trying to rush the stage, to reach me. The soldiers acting as security barely managed to hold them at bay.

“Silence!” Julius screamed into the microphone, but it was no use. The sound was deafening. “I demand—”

There was a distant bang. At first, I didn't know what it was; it faded as soon as it had come, followed by a sudden silence that seemed that much more deafening. Julius stopped speaking mid-sentence. The world felt frozen as I slowly, painfully lifted my head to look at him.

It must have happened very quickly, but the entire thing felt like a silent, slow motion movie. The flesh of Julius’s left eye had blown away, exposing the red sinew and white bone socket beneath—an open, gaping hole. The eyeball itself must have been obliterated by the bullet, and it seemed as though the skin on the left side of his face peeled away in fast-motion, like a bloody, disgusting onion. He fell like a marionette whose strings were abruptly cut, and for a second, the silence was so deep that I felt it would freeze us all here, for eternity, stuck in this moment.

I knew instantly that this was the task John had been assigned by the White Rose, and why he’d been reluctant to tell me or anyone else what it was. The bullet had come from a great distance, and no one else could’ve made such a precise shot at that range. At the same time, I understood nothing. Julius died like any mortal man—suddenly, gruesomely, with spirit vacating flesh and bone faster than I could process it. I no longer knew what to believe.

Then came the screams, the shouts, the sounds of anguish and rage and confusion all around me. But rising above the cacophony was one clear, distinct sound: a slow clap, followed by a voice booming over the sound system that I recognized and dreaded.

“Well done, Sole Survivor,” Jim J purred, and I realized his face was on the mega screen behind me, for all to see. “You’ve managed to assassinate the Sire, a feat few have attempted and none have achieved. I admit, I craved the thrill of killing him, but I’ll satisfy myself with pulling your beating heart from your chest and Ascending to my full power. Exterminating the Ainsley line—band of troublemakers that you are—will be my great pleasure.”

I struggled to my feet, the effects of the stun rod still wreaking havoc on my muscles.

“Now is the time, friends,” Jim J said with a short nod.

Horror rose inside me as half the crowd abruptly turned on the other half. Dozens of simultaneous gunshots rang out, and the screams grew louder and shriller. People tried to escape, but the others—clearly Order recruits in plainclothes—shot them. This was their modus operandi made manifest: keep their membership secret so that their initiates could strike anywhere, anytime, without warning.

“People of the compounds,” Jim J continued over the din, clearly speaking to everyone watching, and for a brief moment, I’d forgotten all of this was being broadcast live to every compound. “You have a choice: follow this regime into its death spiral, or join my family and be given access to the miraculous gift that the Sire hoarded all for himself. We do not share our stockpile of Immortalis with strangers or Wastelanders…but families share everything. We sacrifice Wastelanders for the greater good of our growing movement. Join the Order and you will not be harmed. Join the Order and you will be rewarded. Join the Order and even death becomes merely the justice we bestow upon lesser beings.”

The military was slow to react, mostly because the shooters looked exactly like any other civilians. But they still advanced, shouting orders and attempting to ferry innocents toward the exits. It wasn’t very effective; the shooters simply turned their guns on them, and the throng of people made it difficult to fire on the shooters without causing collateral damage.

“The fall of the Delta has begun,” Jim J announced, just as his image faded from the screen. For the first time, I wondered where he was; he certainly wasn’t anywhere near this chaos. “Soon, everyone will watch me break the Sole Survivor once we claim the Delta for our own and usher in a new era. Glad tidings to those of you who will soon join us. Your day of glory has arrived.”

Then he was gone, and I retreated as best I could toward the stairs that led onto the stage. At that same moment, one of the park gates burst open, and dozens of soldiers in gas masks arrived on the scene. The White Rose was here, but they’d chosen the wrong moment to strike—again. Confusion broke out among them as they tried to decide who to fight: the Delta military, their original target, or the plainclothes Order soldiers, who were clearly doing more immediate damage.

My muscles aching, I ran down the stairs, my long skirt hampering me all the way. In a fit of frustration, I reached down and hastily ripped it into several strips to make it easier to run, and retrieved the pistol Hamilton had given me from its holster on my thigh. I had to find him if I had any hope of surviving this.

In those brief seconds, the chaos had escalated, if that was possible. Everyone was fighting everyone—White Rose versus Delta versus the Order versus everyone else—and the only silver lining was that few people noticed my exit. I retreated behind the stage, where the chaos was present but relatively contained. The Sire’s tent had been torn down, and there were bodies around it—members of Hamilton’s squad. My heart stopped, but none of them were Hamilton himself.

I turned, only to see a man in an Order mask advancing on me. I didn’t hesitate; I raised my pistol and shot him square in the chest. He staggered, and I shot him again, and he fell, bleeding profusely. The only advantage I had was that the Order wanted me alive. For his own twisted purpose, Jim J needed to kill me himself.

Using the back of the stage as cover, I peered out at the throng of people and my stomach dropped. It was a massacre. There were corpses everywhere—the vast majority being civilians—and all the combatants had retreated behind the various food and game stalls to defend themselves. Blood was pooling on the lush grass, and the coppery scent mixed with gunpowder and human waste made my insides twist.

Worse, the Delta military had abandoned the three various park gates. There weren’t enough of them to guard the exits and defend against the onslaught. As a result, more Order members wearing gold eye masks were flooding in through one gate, while the White Rose attempted to hold the other two. They were trying to help civilians escape, but the Order had numbers far beyond what I would’ve ever predicted and they were pinned down, trying to defend themselves and the innocents around them. There was little chance that I’d make it out that way if regular civilians weren’t.