The governor was in his lavish, decadent bedroom, his silk sheets tangled around his limbs as the dim light of the evening filtered through the heavy curtains. The room smelled of incense and perfume, but the true scent of indulgence was more immediate—he was lost in the pleasure of a woman, her body sprawled beneath him. The whore, a young woman from one of the finer districts, gasped softly, her back arched as he indulged in his most primal desires. The governor's face was buried deep between her legs, his grip firm on her thighs, his mind blissfully oblivious to the outside world.
Just as he was lost in the euphoria of the moment, the door to his chambers suddenly flew open, and a soldier stepped in, his eyes widening in shock at the sight of the governor's indiscretions.
The soldier knelt before him, trembling as he delivered the news. "Your Excellency, your brother… Darek is dead."
The governor's eyes narrowed, a faint smile curling at the corners of his lips. His fingers twitched, but not in sorrow—no, there was no sorrow in him. Instead, he chuckled lowly, an almost gleeful sound. "Dead, you say?" he repeated, this time his voice colder, like he was savoring the idea. The woman beneath him stirred, but he silenced her with a quick gesture.
He sat back, running a hand through his hair.
The soldier hesitated before speaking again. "Should we investigate the matter, Your Excellency?"
The governor waved a dismissive hand, his expression turning colder still. "No need. His death serves me more than his life ever did. The fool was a liability… Does he think I didn't know that he was colliding with the gardener to overthrow me? Such a weak, foolish brother. His stupidity got him killed, and for that, I am better off without him."
A cold chuckle escaped his lips as he stared out the window, the city stretching before him like a kingdom under his control.
The soldier swallowed hard before continuing, his voice trembling. "We did find something, Your Excellency. One of the cameras managed to catch the culprit. It was someone with a chain tattoo."
The governor's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing with intensity. "A chain tattoo?" he repeated, his voice sharp. "Those outskirt scum... they think they can strike at me. They will learn what happens when they mess with the government."
His gaze turned back to the soldier, his tone icy. "Find that bastard. Make sure the people in the outskirts know what happens when they dare cross me. Let them feel the consequences."
The soldier nodded deeply, standing up and backing out of the room as quickly as he could without turning his back on the governor.
Once the door closed behind him, the governor turned his attention back to the whore laying nakedly and said while using his fingers to trace her curved body, "This is a blessing, and to celebrate it, I will be going through your back door."
The girl's face lit up with a bright smile as she eagerly spread her legs to receive the heavenly blessing.
And thus, all hell broke loose.
(A/N: I would have continued writing the scene, but I lack experience, so use your imagination to fill the rest)
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Kaden sat in the woods, the faint crackle of a small fire breaking the oppressive silence of the night. The firelight flickered against his blood-stained hands, the crimson still fresh from what he had done. He picked at the small branches he'd gathered earlier, feeding the flames, but his thoughts were elsewhere. His chest was heavy, his mind in turmoil.
What have I done? The question repeated endlessly in his head. His actions had been necessary—or so he told himself—but the weight of them hung over him like a storm cloud. He clenched his fists, the dried blood cracking against his skin as guilt gnawed at him.
With a shaking hand, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a few strands of blonde hair, sticky with blood. He held them for a moment, staring, his eyes welling with unshed tears. Lila's hair. The strands felt heavier than they should have, as if they carried the full burden of his regret and pain. Kaden's jaw tightened as he braided the strands into a crude bracelet, tying it around his wrist—a grim reminder of his lovely sister— which he killed.
He stared deep into the fire, his eyes reflecting the dancing flames. What thoughts churned behind them, even he wasn't sure. His stomach growled, breaking the silence.
"Let's go find something to eat," he muttered to himself. Kicking sand onto the fire, he smothered it before turning towards the outskirts, his only hope of finding food.
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The outskirts were worse than usual. The broken remains of what was once a vibrant community were now filled with hollow-eyed, skeletal figures. Many sat aimlessly in the dirt, too weak or too defeated to even protest against the oppressive government that had abandoned them. The streets reeked of despair, hunger, and hopelessness.
As Kaden walked through the scattered ruins, his eyes darted around for anything edible. Instead, his ears picked up the grating sound of laughter. A group of men stood by a crumbled wall, speaking loudly.
"Good riddance," one of them sneered. "With so many dead, there's less competition for scraps now."
Another nodded. "Yeah, fewer mouths to feed. Maybe now we'll finally get something for ourselves."
Kaden clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. His anger boiled over as he started toward them, his knuckles turning white. But before he could reach them, a commotion erupted nearby.
He turned to see a group of soldiers marching through the outskirts. Their faces were hard and expressionless as they carried a holographic display, showing an image of a man. They stopped at random, shouting questions at the devastated inhabitants, demanding answers. Some of the people, fed up with the endless abuses, shouted curses at the soldiers. It didn't take long for the retaliation—angry yells turned into cries of pain as the soldiers mercilessly beat anyone who dared speak against them.
Kaden froze, his anger shifting to unease. What are they doing here? Soldiers only came to the outskirts when they wanted free labor or to impose cruel punishments.
His gaze shifted to the holographic display. His heart stopped.
The image showed a man with a chain tattoo on his head, a common mark among those in the outskirts. But what made Kaden's blood run cold was the full face in the image. It was his.
They know. Panic gripped him. The camera from Darek's mansion had caught him. They knew he was the murderer.
Kaden turned away, his movements subtle and deliberate as he tried to slip into the shadows.
"Wait!" one of the soldiers shouted.
Kaden didn't hesitate. He bolted, his feet pounding against the cracked ground as the soldiers yelled behind him, giving chase.
He didn't look back. His only thought was to run, to reach the cover of the woods before they could catch him. Trees loomed ahead, their dark silhouettes a haven in the chaos. Without a second thought, Kaden disappeared into their depths, the shouts of the soldiers growing faint behind him.