They press in around you, every inch of ground taken up by angry bodies. Sendra and Chalidah link hands and push you forward, snaking a narrow path through the crowd.
Perhaps it's a good thing you're being forced away from all this.
As if in response, a red-faced guy grabs you by the shoulders and screams "DEATH TO THE VICERS" in your face.
The rest of the people around you join in.
They start chanting it. First low, then louder and louder.
"DEATH TO THE VICERS."
"DEATH TO THE VICERS."
"DEATH TO THE VICERS."
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