It was a grand hall in the Capitol filled with murmuring conversation, one that thrived on influence and power. Golden chandeliers hung above a circular mahogany table, casting their opulent glow over the men and women seated there. These were movers and shakers in the dystopian society- politicians, philanthropists, and influential figures whose decisions affected thousands of citizens.
At the head of the table sat Victor Ashbourne, the most prominent figure in the room. His graying hair, neatly combed back, gave him an air of wisdom, while the sharp lines of his tailored suit underscored his authority. He leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on the table as he spoke, his tone rich with the kind of confidence that demanded attention.
Ladies and gentlemen," Victor started, his voice carrying effortlessly across the room, "recent reports on community infrastructure and social welfare call us to immediate attention. The budget of the next quarter must reflect our commitment to progress and compassion.
Several heads nodded in unison. Victor's reputation as a benevolent leader was well-deserved—or so it appeared to the public. The man was a master of appearances, projecting an image of unwavering integrity while concealing the darker truths of his personal life.
---
The Budget Debate
Victor gestured to an aide, who quickly passed out copies of a report. "As you can see, our current funds must be distributed carefully. Education, disaster relief, and healthcare remain our top priorities. Let us discuss how we can address these areas without neglecting the needs of our people.
A younger politician, sitting on Victor's left, cleared her throat. "Mr. Ashbourne, while I concede the argument for education, surely we are ignoring the increasing prices of emergency relief. The floods that battered our outskirts actually need more urgent services.
Victor nodded, his countenance severe. "Very true indeed, Councilwoman Reed. The conditions of the flood victims can't just be ignored. Yet, let us not forget that we need our young people to be schooled like the leaders we want them to be. A delicate balance should be struck.
The older, gruff voice belonged to a man seated directly across from him, at the far end of the board table. "Victor, you've always been passionate about education, you know. Aren't we overextending ourselves by putting so much of this money into education? What about infrastructure? Road and transport are broken down.
Victor leaned back, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "I understand your concerns, Senator Grayson. But investing in education now will yield long-term benefits in creating a skilled and self-reliant workforce. That, in turn, will strengthen our economy and provide us with the means to address infrastructure in the future.
His words were met by murmurs of assent. Victor had a way of weaving his arguments into compelling narratives, always leaving his audience convinced of good intentions.
---
A Troubled Peace
As the debate was winding down, one councilmember, a wiry man with sharp features and a voice that carried, raised his hand. "If I may," he started, his tone insistent, "while discussing resource allocation, we cannot leave out the rise in tumult created by the villains in our community."
The room, which had been abuzz with quiet discussions, fell silent, all eyes now turning toward the speaker.
Our city," he continued, "is a place of great opportunity, but also chaotic. Petty crimes, smuggling rings, and villain attacks have been on the rise. Just last week, an entire district lost power due to a fight over an argument between heroes and a group of villains. We need a dedicated task force to address these issues, lest our citizens lose faith in our ability to protect them.
The mention of villains sparked murmurs among the councilmembers. Some nodded thoughtfully, while others exchanged worried glances.
"We're already funding hero academies," Councilwoman Reed countered. "Isn't it their responsibility to handle these threats?"
"It is," the man agreed, "but the heroes are spread thin. These aren't just small-time criminals we're dealing with anymore. These villains are coordinated, and their numbers are growing."
Someone muttered loudly, "And it's not just any villains. Names like Shade, Ironclaw… and Zephyr keep cropping up in reports."
At the mention of Zephyr, Victor's fingers briefly tightened around the edge of the table. He kept his expression neutral, but his ears caught the name with sharp clarity.
---
Victor's Mask
Victor could barely keep himself calm as he was forced to listen to the mention of his estranged son. He had worked hard to distance himself from that part of his life and had buried the truth under layers of carefully constructed lies.
After clearing his throat, Victor interjected, his tone measured. "The concerns are valid, and we are going to increase resources that'll support our heroes. Now let us not lose the broader objective that should be achieved: the citizen's safety but also citizen's education, health, and wellness.
His words were enough to change the subject, though the weight of the last topic lingered. Victor sat straight, but a spark of irritation ate at him. Zephyr's name had become a thorn in his side, a constant reminder of the past he had tried so hard to erase.
---
Closing the Session
Hours of discussion passed, and a tentative budget agreement was finally reached in the council. Victor rose to his feet, his expression that of practiced humility.
"Thank you all for your input. Together, we will continue to build a brighter future for our citizens.
The room was filled with polite applause as Victor extended a hand to shake with the councilmembers nearest him. Smiles and handshakes were exchanged, the kind of superficial camaraderie that defined political circles.
As the council dispersed, Victor lingered for a moment, staring at the now-empty table. He allowed himself a small, self-satisfied smile. The meeting had gone exactly as he had planned.
Still, as he stepped back out of the room, the softest whisper of the son's name echoed in his mind, immoveable.