ASH:EN - Snippet #01

Another Shattered Hold: Edenic Nine - Snippet #01

Iictor’s finger hovered over the trigger, his breath fogging the rifle scope. He knew this moment would come eventually, though he had hoped with all his might it wouldn’t. Iictor set his sights on a small gathering of protestors planted outside the Royale home. The rebel in his crosshairs was young - too young. She couldn’t have seen more than sixteen annums. Sixteen and already radicalized, seduced by the sweet lies of the growing resistance. He should feel contempt for her, yet hesitation clawed at him. His commanding officer’s orders rang in his ears: Eliminate the insurgents. Show no mercy.


Show no mercy…


Iictor gritted his teeth, forcing back the doubt that surged within. The girl shifted slightly, unaware of the gun trained on her. Iictor’s finger tensed on the trigger. Just one squeeze and they would scatter; it would be over. One less anarchist threatening their way of life.


So why did it feel so wrong?


The young Shaulker man closed his eyes — reminding himself of what he was fighting for: his home, his sister, her innocence. Then, before he could second-guess himself again, his red eyes flew open with a renewed flame.


His finger twitched, and the rifle cracked, echoing off the surrounding buildings. The girl slowly crumpled, her body hitting the ground with a sickening thud. For a moment, the world stood still.


Then, the protestors scattered like startled birds, their screams piercing the air. Iictor remained frozen, his eyes locked on the lifeless form sprawled on the cobblestones. Blood pooled around her, staining the grey stones a vivid crimson. He had done his duty and followed his orders. Breathing in with difficulty, tears began to sting Iictor’s eyes.


So why did he feel like a monster?


Iictor lowered his rifle, his hands shaking. Like a broken doll discarded on the street, the girl looked so small and fragile. Trying to look away, Iictor found his gaze couldn’t tear away from the girl’s still face, her eyes staring blankly at the smoggy sky.


Bile rose in his throat, and he swallowed hard, fighting the urge to vomit. There was no glory here like he had imagined his life as a Royale Agent would be. This was slaughter, plain and simple. But it was necessary, wasn’t it? To maintain order, to preserve their way of life?


Finally unable to stomach staring at the lifeless girl any longer, he ripped his gaze away, clutching his rifle with white-knuckled fury. With a sharp pivot on his heel, he strode away, unable to bear the sight any longer.


“Report, Agent,” Overseer Mirthed barked, her voice sharp.


Iictor stood across from her in the opulent office, the room a testament to Royale strength—ornate redwood furniture, plush velvet curtains and intricate bronze fixtures that glowed in the dim lamplight. The Automated overseer sat behind an imposing desk, papers stacked high on each side.


The Shaulker man snapped to attention, his body rigid. “The insurgent gathering has been neutralized, ma’am. Threat eliminated.”


He could still taste the bile on the back of his tongue. The overseer lifted her chin, her gaze boring into Iictor’s. Neither spoke, the tension in the air as thick as the smog that perpetually shrouded their city.


“Very good,” she finally said, leaning back in her chair as a disturbing smirk spread across her thin lips. “You’ve done well, Agent. The Royales appreciate your service.”

Iictor inclined his head, the praise doing little to soothe the turmoil raging in his gut. “Thank you, ma’am.”


The overseer waved a dismissive hand. “That’ll be all. Report to me at 0600 tomorrow for your next assignment.”


As Iictor stood by the heavy iron door, his hand about to grasp the bronze latch, the overseer spoke up again.


“Don’t forget, Agent. Should you ever falter, it will be my pleasure to put a bullet in you and your sister,” her words sunk heavily on Iictor’s shoulders, sending a shudder down his spine. Pausing at the threshold, an image of his sister with innocent eyes flashed before him, igniting a fierce determination.


“I understand,” Iictor finally murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.


The Overseer’s gaze pierced him, searching for any hint of vulnerability. Refusing to give her the satisfaction, Iictor set his jaw in determination as he flung open the door and marched through with purposeful strides.


A new resolve burned bright as he strode from the Overseer’s office. For his sister’s sake, he would endure whatever trials lay ahead, never faltering in his pursuit of justice. And though the path before him may be treacherous and uncertain, he carried with him the unwavering strength of a brother willing to sacrifice everything for the only person he had left.