The room was silent, frozen in a tense, suffocating stillness. The officials stood around the makeshift command center, their faces pale, their expressions a mixture of disbelief and terror. They hadn't expected me. They hadn't thought that the chaos in the streets would lead to this. But here I was, standing in front of them, the one they had failed to control, the one they had underestimated.
I could feel the weight of their eyes on me, every one of them searching for some hint of weakness, some sign that I wasn't as powerful as I appeared. But I showed them nothing. They needed to see the leader they had been warned about. The one who had already claimed their city, their future.
I stepped forward, moving deliberately through the room, my eyes locked on each of them in turn. Their fear was palpable, almost sweet. They knew the end was near. The city was no longer in their hands. The government, their government, was already collapsing. And it was because of me.
"You've failed," I said, my voice low but cutting through the room like a knife. "Your system, your order, your lies—it's all come crashing down. And now, it's my turn."
There was a murmur of disbelief. One of them, a man in his mid-fifties with graying hair, stepped forward. His face was red with anger, but his hands trembled as he spoke. "You don't know what you're doing. You can't control this. The people won't follow you. They'll turn on you."
I smiled.
The words stung, but they didn't wound. He didn't know who I was, what I had become. "You're wrong. They already follow me," I said. "And as for control, well, I've had that for a while now. You just didn't see it."
His eyes flickered nervously to the others in the room, then back to me. They were all desperate now, looking for a way out. But there was no escape. The city had already spoken. The streets had made their choice.
"I don't want your submission," I said. "What I want is something much more valuable: your downfall. Your public ruin. You are the old world, and I am the new. You will be remembered for one thing: failure."
The air in the room thickened with tension. They didn't know how to respond. The weight of my words, the certainty in my voice, was enough to paralyze them. They were the ones who had failed. And now, they would pay.
One of the officials, a woman with dark, anxious eyes, broke the silence. She was younger than the rest, her voice trembling but defiant. "You can't just destroy everything. You'll tear apart the fabric of society! People need structure. Without it, we have chaos. And chaos will turn on you too."
I walked toward her, close enough that she could feel my breath. "You think the people need you?" I asked softly, almost gently. "The people don't need structure. They need freedom. They need to tear down the shackles you've put on them for so long. They need to feel like they have power again. And that's exactly what I'll give them."
Her mouth trembled, but she said nothing more.
I turned away from them, towards the large windows that looked out over the city. Through the smog and smoke, I could see the fires burning in the streets, the remnants of buildings collapsing, the masses of people marching forward, their faces lit with the flame of revolution. They were waiting for the final push—the one that would solidify their victory. They were waiting for the world to see that the old order was truly gone.
I turned back to face the group of officials. "The game is over. The people have won. And now I'm going to give them everything they deserve."
One of the older men—he looked like a former military officer, his uniform worn and frayed—spoke in a low voice, his tone now more resigned than combative. "You don't understand the consequences of this. If you destroy everything, you'll have nothing left to rule. A leader with no kingdom... no purpose."
I tilted my head slightly, studying him. "A leader with no kingdom? Do you really think that matters to me?" I could hear the slight edge of amusement in my voice. "What matters is the truth. The truth that everything you've built was a lie. A facade. The people know it now. And that's all the power I need."
There was a brief silence as the officials exchanged worried glances. They knew it was futile to resist. The system had already crumbled, and there was nothing left for them to protect but their own survival. But that was a fate I would not be offering them.
"We're finished," the former military officer said quietly, his voice hollow with defeat. "What now?"
I looked at him for a moment, feeling the full weight of the situation. There would be no mercy. There could be none. To show mercy now would be to dishonor everything we had worked for, everything I had sacrificed.
"Now," I said, "you will watch as the old world burns. And when the smoke clears, I will rebuild it."
I turned toward the door, motioning to Mara, who had been standing at the entrance, watching silently. She stepped forward, her eyes glinting with the same cold resolve I had seen in myself for years.
"You," I said, my voice carrying an air of finality, "will go down in history as the architects of failure. The ones who refused to see the future coming. But your story won't matter in the end. History is already being written, and it's written in fire."
With that, I left the room. The weight of what I had done, what I had set in motion, felt different now. It was no longer just a plan. It was reality. The city, the people, the world—it was all in my hands. And it was only just beginning.
Outside, the streets burned. But through the flames, I saw the future waiting for me. A future of my own making.
________________________
Jabrane
pa treon /Jabrane
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