"The importance of that story is to show you that we were dear friends before he and I became enemies; hell, I saw him as a brother. But that day started a rage inside him that would eventually cause him and me to become mortal enemies."
"At least in my eyes to this day, he is still technically my best friend, Hell, when we were children, we made a blood brother pact. So one could even say my blood runs in his veins just like his runs in mine."
"And if he would give up this stupid purist notion, we could go back to how things used to be, and I could start forgiving him for all the atrocities he has done to my people and me, let alone the entire world as a whole."
"Chase has done many good things to good and bad people, but it doesn't condone his actions. The positive can never outweigh the blood that is on his hands."
"Just like nothing I can do will ever be enough to repent for the countless lives I've taken. Sure, it can always be chalked up to being Casualties of war, but each life I have taken wasn't mine to take." With a sigh, I leaned forward and propped up my elbows on the table while meeting the eyes of those on the other side.
"Chase wasn't always the tyrannical man he is now; he used to be a wimpy kid that I had to protect from bullies. Not because he couldn't defend himself but because he wouldn't."
"It was too bothersome for him to stand up for what he believed in, whereas I was always the outspoken one who fought for what I thought was right." Shrugging my shoulders, I tried to hide my smirk and keep a professional expression on my face.
"It's funny because if you go back and look at me before the Requiem, you would have thought I would have grown into the leader of the Purists' and it would have been Chase that would lead the Unitists.' But that's not how things turned out at all."
"Never in a million years would I have thought that I would end up leading anyone, especially not a group of like-minded people who only want to see the world's people united as a whole, not as two different types of species."
"That's the basis of our Faction. Some have called us terrorists, others have called us fools, and some have called us heroes. What it comes down to is we are all tired of this senseless bloodshed because some of us are more gifted than others."
"There are more than just the two sides to this battle, and we were formed to stop the fighting by any means necessary. Fundamentally the Purists and the Naturalists think that their way of life is the only way to live. But they're both wrong; the two sides are fighting out of jealousy and hatred, and nothing good will come of that."
"The worst part about this entire war is that both sides believe that they are right and are willing to slaughter as many people as necessary just to prove their point. I never asked for my abilities… Hell, sometimes I wish I was never gifted with my powers."
"But I would never slaughter innocent children who may or may not have abilities just because of what they had or lacked. That senseless cold-hearted murder will only lead to more bloodshed."
"That's why I joined this Faction, to begin with. Our goal is to end the bloodshed and create a world where people do not have to suffer discrimination because of external factors such as whether or not the Requiem distributed Power to them. But I can't do it alone. We need help and the strength that comes with numbers."
:: The room shuddered again, causing the lights above to flicker again. ::
Ignoring the disturbance, I carefully examined the men before me, trying to find something in their body language that would hint at what was happening inside their heads.
To My left sat a more prominent man; he was definitely what my second in command would call "Battle Worn." Rough, dried crack skin, not unlike leather, and a far-off look in his eyes. Nearly every inch of his arms and even face were covered in scars.
His hair was a murky brown, looking greasy as if he hadn't showered in months. Sitting to his left was a much smaller red-headed man who looked like an accountant before the Requiem.
The accountant went by Jimmy Bovarnik, and the burly man beside him was named Balto Reinhart. The two of them led a faction that called themselves the Outlanders.
They were masters of guerilla warfare, but even more than that, they were expert craftsmen who were well-known for the technology they could create, and their base, which we were currently occupying, was one of the few places left that had both running water and electricity. They had built this colossal city underneath a handful of mountains in the Appalachian Mountain Range.
It had been over a week since I began negotiations with the diplomatic group I brought to convince them to join us. However, we were unknowingly followed by the Purists, and unfortunately, we dragged the Outlanders into a battle they wanted nothing to do with.
Balto leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. His face scrunched up much to mirror that of a bulldog as he thought to himself.
"If you were such great friends with him, what caused you two to become mortal enemies? Was his brother the spark that set everything off, or was it something else? I don't know; it just sounds fishy to me."
Balto's voice rang out like thunder. It was the first time he had spoken to me since we had arrived, and the baritone wasn't the only thing that made me shiver a bit because as he spoke, the air around him crackled with static electricity.
It shouldn't have surprised me; I already knew he was an Electrokinetic. The Requiem had gifted him the Ability to control electricity, and he was now using that Ability to spook me. Needless to say, it didn't work.
I smiled as non-intimidatingly as possible, which, honestly, is a pretty hard thing for me. I wasn't a tiny guy. Between my broad shoulders, 6-foot-4-inch frame, 5 o'clock shadow, and the jagged scar that covered the space from the center of my eyebrow down to the base of my orbital bone on my right eye, it could be said I was intimidating.
Well, there was that, and then there's the fact that I had an entire army at my fingertips and was the alpha of my Faction. I wasn't handed my title as a leader; I fought my way up, from the grunt level to a squad captain, all the way up to the head honcho or Leader. It was a laborious process, which saw me on the front lines for much of the last few years, but now the Faction was my responsibility.
"Yes, I would like to know this information as well; someone doesn't just wake up hating their best friend or what was it you called him, your Blood Brother."
"There had to have been a bigger event that caused the two of you to break apart and hate each other," Jimmy said in his squeaky voice. His big ears and small face made me want to give him the nickname Mouse.
"You would be correct, Jimbo, there was a somewhat of a large event that caused us to break apart, but I have to take you back to shortly after Tristian was hospitalized. It wasn't a single event but a chain of events leading up to the Requiem, and then a few months after, we broke apart."
"Don't worry, I'll get there, but I need to get us to the beginning of The Requiem before I can continue with our "Rivalry," if you will."
:: Three sharp knocks at the door to the room suddenly drew everyone's attention. With a loud creak, the door opened quickly. ::
"Sorry, I'm Late, Dean, First Lieutenant, you are Relieved. I'll take over; thank you for being in my place throughout the negotiations." My Second in Command had finally arrived.
Hearing my Seconds commanding tone, Nile jumped up the second she spoke and saluted her, then hurried out of the room as if someone had just set him on fire and he was running for his life.
My 2nd in command had that kind of effect on most people, especially men. That's why she was my second in command. A primal rage hid in a beautiful shell, not to mention her uncanny Ability to keep anyone in line.
Honestly, she was terrifying, but because I had known her for years, I'd had the privilege of knowing her long before she was the badass scary, intimidating woman she is now.
"Nice of you to show up finally, Kris," I said, trying to sound convincingly angered, which failed miserably since I couldn't even fake being mad at her. In truth, I was actually quite relieved that she was finally here.