Bryce stood amidst the gunfire, a statue of cold fury.
Look at them. The very people I shield from their oblivious evil nature. They are so consumed by hatred that they become blind to the necessity. Why does our evil nature always eclipse our reasoning?"
The past six months have been so stressful. The wireless camera, Charlene's defiance, the resurfaced memories of Earth—all of it had worn him down. He had abhored the corruption of others once, and a planet had died.
He would not let it happen again.
His recent arrest had been an opportunity. He'd convened the five Supreme Chancellors. He'd shown them the hard math: Mars was dying, its population a cancer upon a shrinking world. He convinced them. They refined Article Twenty-Five of the Rome Statute and the law was enacted instantly. Hardened criminals would now face the ultimate death penalty instead of jail sentences. It was the only way to cull the herd and save the species.
That was why all Barrack Fifty-Nine workers were sentenced to death.
But a fear lay within him and it was already becoming a reality. Collateral damage. When he snapped, he had killed innocents. He had sworn to control it.
But they were ungrateful. He couldn't believe that they were shooting at him.
A muscle in his jaw twitched. A final thread of control snapped.
Nanites crawled to his hands. He raised a hand.
Every bullet aimed at him froze in mid-air, a constellation of lethal brass.
He willed his hand to flick, to send the metal storm back into the crowd. His fingers trembled, but his conscience stopped him.
He could see the armed agitators trying their best to harm him and kill his bodyguards. He also noticed the terrified faces behind them—those who couldn't pull the triggers and those surging forward without weapons.
People with murderous intent are criminals. But there are innocents among them.
"Bryce! BRYCE!"
A familiar voice cut through the rage. A WASA helicopter was in the air, and Elara Vex leaned from its open door.
He let the bullets clatter to the street. The nanites surged to his legs. He leaped, a projectile of pure frustration, and Elara hauled him inside.
The chopper climbed, leaving the riot behind.
"Bryce, you must think of your reputation," Elara said, her voice a calibrated mix of concern and pragmatism. "I know the anger. I felt it when they breached Silicon Canyon. But you must control the narrative."
"Is Charlene's prototype on the dark web?" Bryce's mind was already pivoting to the next threat.
"No. But the Space Cadets intercepted data. We traced the satellite hack to a location in the Red Zones, near the black hole. That's their destination."
"Good. I need that prototype. It requires refinement before public release."
"The time distortions in the Red Zones will make interception difficult," Elara cautioned. "But Bryce, leave the prototype for now, you need to address the people. Now."
"I am their protector not their puppet."
"You are the Overseer." Her voice was sharp, a surgeon's scalpel. "They saw you lose control. They need to see you regain it. They need to believe you are fit to rule their rulers."
Bryce stared at her. This was why their alliance endured. She understood the game better than anyone.
His eyes danced across his B-Wax, sending a direct message to Meera; *I need an Interview. Come to Silicon Canyon. ASAP*
"It's done," he said. "Meera will interview me. I'll clear the air."
"Meera?" Elara's composure cracked, disgust twisting her features. "That girl is a virus! She is the cause of this unrest! How wonder how she always get the full, unedited truth?"
"That is precisely why I trust her," Bryce said, a cold smile touching his lips as he moved to the helicopter's edge. "She is a mirror. She forces us to see our own reflections. And I was the one who ordered the UBI to give her the full briefing of my case."
He stepped out into the open sky, the nanites cushioning his fall as he descended toward the spires of Silicon Canyon, leaving Elara alone with her fury.