Arthur looked at the president coldly, his spatial senses mapping every person present in the void—guards, staff members, the President's wife, and most importantly, his two young children huddled behind their mother with tear-streaked faces.
Whilst the President wasn't the person Arthur had direct contact with during his captivity and manipulation, he had still accepted the military's strategy near the end. Never backing down from antagonising Arthur, and trying to get rid of him.
That made him complicit. That made him responsible.
But Arthur's eyes lingered on the children—a boy perhaps eight years old, a girl no more than six. They clung to their mother, terrified by the sudden darkness and violence surrounding them.
They don't deserve to see this, Arthur thought with a grim expression. Whatever sins their father committed, they're innocent.
