Tracers arced off the walls, spraying brilliant shards of light with every impact. The noise was overpowering— so deafening that even my vision blurred. A cacophony of rattles, cracks, and explosions pierced the eardrum. Brown blouses pushed up in squads. Two to three men, at the behest of their leader, would break for cover, sprinting toward the next hallway or inlet, only to be cut down in a triumph of blood and screams. The only sound that could pierce the veil of that chaotic symphony was the wet thumps of high-caliber rifle rounds meeting soft flesh.

Three squads tried in vain to reach a bisecting corridor. The incoming fire was too thick. It wrapped the air like a blanket, snuffing out everything that moved. I risked a brief peek whenever the bullet storm abated. Crouched low, I rested my back against a marble corner, jagged from where rounds had chipped away at it. The wall at the end of the hall was pocked, blackened by the never ending salvos.

The leader sent another squad forward—more wet thuds. One dropped immediately, crumpled over himself with an unnatural bend. Another spun wildly as if he had been lifted from his feet and flung a meter backward. The third carried on another few steps until bursting orbs of bloody mist filled the air around his body. He must’ve taken ten rounds—tough bastard. The young man leading the platoon started counting his men, pointing to them and mouthing numbers.

We were getting torn up. I leaned across the edge to get another look just as a round shattered the stone, sending slivers into my eye. “Ah, fuck.” I staggered back, allowing another on the wall to take my place.

“You’ll be fine, Jack,” I heard Cladius shout with all the confidence in the world. My hands were slick with blood, but my vision returned. The marble slivers had missed my eyes, only shredding some skin around them.

“Where the fuck is all that fire coming from?” I shouted.

The brown blouse that took my place leaned around the corner and lingered for a second too long. The back of his head came apart and painted the wall behind him. His body dropped and had to be dragged out of the way. “Fuck,” I mouthed. The incoming intensified. It looked as though the stone at the end of the corridor was about to give way. I almost wanted to see it happen, as I wanted to know what was on the other side. On the other side…

“Everyone up and on me,” I yelled over the gunfire. “Get up. Get up. On me.”

Close to the thirty men assembled, their eyes fixated on me. I could taste the fear oozing from every pore. I grabbed ten and pushed the rest back to the relative safety of the hall. I shot once at the wall near where I just sat, creating a small crater beyond the ripped gold-laced paper.

“Everyone concentrate you fire right there. Don’t stop shooting until you’re empty. Go,” I yelled. For a moment, no one fired. Then, one man raised his rifle and unloaded, prompting the rest to follow. When their magazines were emptied, I pushed them back to reload and brought up the next wave. It took three waves in total. Nearly every man emptied a magazine, but when they were done, the stone crumbled, leaving a sizable hole.

I was the first one through. I swept the room, checking each corner. Buttoned leather couches lined the walls. A single grand fireplace stood at the center, rising up on all sides toward the vaulted ceiling of carved timber. “Clear,” I called out.

“Where do you suppose those doors lead?” Claudius asked, pointing to two towering oak slabs.

“I don’t know. You tell me. You fucking live here.” I replied.

“One way to find out,” Claudius said.

I stacked ten men on the door with myself as lead. One of them opened the far hatch. I was through it as soon as it cracked. I checked right - empty. I swung left - three Capital Guards walking away, ammunition crates in hand. They didn’t notice us. I raised my rifle and squeezed out a burst, raking the hall. Sparks cut through white dust as the rounds ricocheted off the walls. I let out another burst - this time directly down the middle. Three gray tunics lying on the floor cut through the haze. Pressing forward, I alternated my aim between the motionless guards and the opposite end of the corridor.

“I believe one of them just moved,” Claudius said.

I fired a single shot into their backs. If one had moved, they wouldn’t anymore. The man behind me did the same as we stepped over them. My heart jumped. My mouth filled with a sour, metallic taste. But it was a false alarm, which angered me more.

“They’re dead. Leave them. Save your ammo,” I barked.

A line of Capital Guards swapped in and out of a pair of automatic long guns hidden behind thick hexagonal plates mounted to the floor. One Gray Tunic would step out while the other stepped in to take their place, alternating long bursts. This way, the fire was nearly continuous. There was no hope of making it up that corridor, and I could see why. It was a murder alley, a classic ambush tactic.

“When I signal, you three get on your bellies and start firing. You three immediately kneel above them as soon as they’re down. And you four stand above them. Don’t stop firing until your out. Got it?”

They replied in a series of fear-driven grunts and nods. I looked around the corner again and raised a hand. Once the second gun stopped and their crews swapped, I swiped. It wasn’t as graceful as I pictured it in my head, but they got the job done without shooting each other. The hall lit up as continuous waves of bullets hit home. In seconds, rifle bolts slammed to the rear and locked. Once it was over, I looked around the corner. Bodies formed a staggered line up to a gray mound where the survivors had desperately climbed over their comrades before being cut down.

The tip of a barrel emerged from the intersecting hall. It swayed, attached to a shaking hand, and a wide-eyed young man appeared.

“Clear,” he said in a trembling voice.

“Was that a question?” I asked.

“Yes… no. I mean–”

“It’s clear. The rest of you move up.”

He nodded and disappeared for a second before popping his head back out. “Calonius is dead,” he said and then left.

“Calonius?” I mumbled.

“I do believe that was the young platoon leader. Full of vinegar, as they use to say… they did use to say that, correct?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, full of holes now.”

***

The great room was filled with brown blouses, window to window. An anxious murmur filled the air between the last rays of golden light filtering between surrounding towers. The men looked tired, on edge, ready to snap. The lids of their eyes burned red. Where once there had been fear, exhaustion gave way to dissociation. I’d seen it before and knew how quickly dissociation could turn into a fanned flame.

I walked amongst the waiting men, checking on them as the walls echoed with the sound of a makeshift battering ram punching the great oak doors leading to the Secretary General’s personal quarters.

“Smells different,” Claudius said, taking in a deep breath.

I looked back at him with a raised brow. “I’m surprised you’re not trying to stop us.”

“No. No, on the contrary, I’m here to ensure you find what you’re looking for.”

“And that is?” I asked. I knelt, lifting the chin of a seated young man. His rifle lay carelessly across his lap. He eyed me, pushing the weapon away. He’d had enough, so I took it from him and pointed to the rear.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“Answers. Closure.”

“Closure,” I said with a chuckle. “My answers are back at the archives, remember?”

“I’m afraid not, Master Jack.”

The door gave, smashing inward and splintering where the heavy metal bolt once stood. The mass funneled in, drawing me with them. I pushed forward, weaving in and out of the rapidly compacting crowd. The doors opened into the grand dining room. Before I could make it to the front, gunfire cracked, giving way to shrieks of a piercing timbre.

The barbarians were already through the gates by the time I entered. Jagged edges of what was left of an undersecretary’s skull dripped. He was propped up in his seat, a fork still in his hand as if he had the supreme confidence the door would hold. A single shot dismantled his head. Others weren’t so lucky. Crawling, clawing at the mantle to rise to his feet, was another, his legs limp—a widening splotch of deep red blood spread from the center of his back to his waist.

Another door crashed open somewhere deeper in the quarters. I left the paralyzed secretary to his fate and darted out the back of the room. Gunfire raked helpless bureaucrats, staining the ornate wallpaper with a crimson spray. Some took part in the massacre, while others took part in the many indulgences reserved only for the highest of that society. They consumed the finest foods and perfumed women of their lives. Those poor girls. They may have come from the lower city but weren’t afforded the same consideration.

I pried a young man off a ravaged girl. Her once beautiful red dress was ripped and soaked in blood. At that moment, I prayed it was a bureaucrat’s, but I knew better than to hope. Her eyes were still - her body stiff.

“There’s a certain irony to it isn’t there?” Claudius’s voice drifted in over the chaos. “That young woman could very well have been his sister.” He leaned down and examined the body. “They certainly seem of the same stock, no?”

“This has to stop.”

“It can’t. And it won’t. Believe me, no matter how many times you try, it’s…” He looked around, taking in the killing, the metallic twanged air. “It’s the exact same every time.”

Time. Time was running out. I wanted to find the General Secretary before they did. I figured he would be of more use alive than dead. I had planned on methodically searching the quarters, room by room until I found him. The mob had a different plan. The library.

I bolted down the hall, hoping to leave Claudius behind. Broken bodies latticed the floor. The gunfire was wild and undisciplined, brown blouses spraying and praying their rounds would hit one of them and not one of their own. I turned a corner. A few paces down the hall, a jumpy young man lifted his rifle, popping off five or so rounds before it ever rose off the floor. I jumped back just as the last bullet fragmented the stone wall, spraying a plume of white dust into the air.

“Hey, friendly fire,” I shouted around the end.

“I’m sorry I didn’t… You just appeared out of nowhere, that’s all.”

I stepped out, loading the balls of my feet with weight to jump back if necessary. The tip of the kid’s rifle drug along the floor, a single hand loosely gripping the stock as he stumbled toward me. He had been crying. His eyes were bloodshot, and snot ran down his upper lip.

“Here, hand me that,” I said as I gestured toward his weapon.

He let the gun drop. It clattered on the floor as he slunk past me, dropping his head in shame. I kicked it off to the side and turned to check on the young man before continuing. Claudius, towering over him by a head, leaned down and whispered something in his ear.

A loud bang pulsed down the hall, ricocheting off the walls. I raced forward to see where it came from. Five men stood before the library doors, battering ram in hand. With a final bash, the door gave way just as I arrived.

The library was dark. The shades had been drawn completely. Only a single column of light from the hall fanned out along the shelves. Swaying in front of them was a pair of legs. I fumbled around for the switch. Someone else found it before I did, and the room lit up. White tunic. Onyx buttons. The General Secretary’s head slumped back, crooking slightly to the side as it held the weight of his body from a rope.

“Father,” Claudius said, pushing past me. Casually walking across the room, he delicately slid into the leather-wrapped chair just beside Augustus’s swinging feet. “If he could speak, he would blame this all on the GCS no doubt.” Claudius let out a snide laugh, lightly pressing his father’s shoes so he would swing out wider.

I’d had enough. There was no reason to prolong my suffering of this man. Two glowing dots bracketed his head in the sights of my rifle. As good of a time as any. My finger pulled in. I mentally counted the pounds of pressure before the trigger would click and the weapon buck.

“Master Jack, you aren’t going to kill me. I don’t die here. Besides, that would be the quickest way to bring her to anger. And believe me, that is just something you do not want to do if you can help it.” His smug grin returned with a vengeance. He knew something I didn’t, and he relished every moment of it.

“I’m sure whoever she is, she’ll have bigger things to worry about.”

“Come now, Jack. I know the curiosity is burning you from the inside.”

“Yeah?” I replied. He wasn’t wrong, but every word he spoke depressed the trigger just a little bit further.

“Well, yes. Or else you would’ve fulfilled that promise to yourself by now.”

He can’t know about that. Can he?

“I will kill that man,” Claudius said in a deep tone, dripping with sarcasm.

I lowered the barrel of the rifle. “How?”

“It never ceases to amaze me. Your time’s best and brightest and yet you still haven’t pieced it together…. Boudica.”

“Boudi…?”

“Richardson,” Claudius said, dropping his grin.

“What does she… Why are you…”

Claudius returned his toothy smile and slapped the armrests of the leather chair before rising. “You did well, Master Jack. You played your part well. We had never taken The Archives in tact before. What twist of fate you wound up in those cells. Hellish place, from what I’m told. You suffered a great deal no doubt. And–”

“Claudius,” I yelled to shut him up. “What the fuck are you talking about? What does Richardson have to do with any of this?” Flashbacks in the gelatin pool flickered in my brain.

“Best I just let her explain.” He nodded, meeting my eyes. “Yes. That is what she would want. Come now. She should be there by now and there isn’t anything else to be done here.”

*****

The pillaging continued as the brown blouses rampaged through the extravagant suite. They hunted hiding secretaries and bureaucrats alike, putting them to death on the spot. The young women continued to suffer. My teeth grit at the site of their desperate eyes, looking on helplessly as man after man had their way.

“That’s enough,” I yelled, yanking the back of a young man’s shirt. His ragged pants caught around his knees, sending him staggering backward. His bare ass landed on the cold marble floor. His face drew a scathing stare. I recognized him. I couldn’t remember his name, but it burned on the tip of my tongue. He was the one who broke in the tunnels. The one who helped us plan the assault on the market. He’d seen hell, and it broke him. Now, he unleashed a hell of his own. “Look at you,” I screamed, drawing the attention of the room. “Fucking animals.”

The young man rolled on his side, grabbing the handgun that had popped loose when he was pulled off. Before he could aim, the barrel of my rifle barked, leaving a jagged hole in his windpipe. He dropped the gun and gripped his spurting throat. Between his fingers, a scarlet geyser sprayed out.

“Everyone out,” I yelled. “Get the fuck out.” I grabbed those nearest to me and shoved them toward the door. “Out now. I’m not asking. Get the fuck out.” They turned to each other. A deep sense of insecurity and worry inflamed my brain. I knew they were just as likely to turn on me as to listen. They were a herd of wild hunters, and I was now denying them their prey.

“All it takes is one, Master Jack,” Claudius whispered.

I stood my ground despite their collective piercing gaze. One of the men tapped another on the shoulder and left the room. Slowly, silently, the rest followed. I let out a deep sigh. I’d held my breath without realizing it.

The young man lying on the floor had expired, the blood no longer flowing between his clenched fingers. Brutus. That was his name. Maybe if I had remembered sooner, I could have talked some sense into him. I looked over his body once more before heading toward the dining hall.

“Everyone out. We’re leaving,” I called, " on your feet” as I trotted down the hall. Faces popped out from every doorway, looking to see who was shouting the orders. “If you’re not out in two minutes, you get left behind.”

The corridor rapidly filled with confused faces. Still, they followed. I knew there were likely to be stragglers - those who wouldn’t be denied their spoils, but most headed my orders. I led them to the base, instructing a new leader to set up a defensive perimeter and send a squad to police those still at the top. When I knew he understood, I stepped onto the tram leading back to The Archives. To my dismay, Claudius followed. He was like a tick, attached, sucking my sanity’s blood.

The Archive’s lower levels were bustling with activity. Men and women alike hustled up and down the halls, carrying various metal boxes, at one point forming a snake to make the handoffs more efficient. The containers were dark slate, with a plate attached to the face, engraved with threaded gold lettering and symbols. I stopped a woman as she ran past and asked what they were taking. She claimed not to know but was in a hurry, so I let her go.

“Those are the Archive records, Master Jack. Hundreds of years of UN history and thousands before that of mankind. Our Alexandria,” Claudius said casually, surveying the busy group.

“What? Fuck, we have to stop them. Who ordered this?”

“She did. Worry not, Master Jack. They’re in good hands.”

We rose through the tower, passing the now immaculately clean kill room. I had almost missed it until I spotted the shattered tile in the ceiling. The black mechanical arm still breathed, pulsing in and out.

The Archive doors opened. A crowd assembled around the panels. They stood shoulder to shoulder, jostling for a position closer to the front. What are they looking at? My mind turned to Constantine. Did they move his body, too? Where would they take him?

“Make way, if you would,” Claudius bellowed. The group peered back, separating down the middle when they saw him. All but one moved. A middle-aged woman, her close-cropped hair streaked with gray, remained with her back to us. She held a tablet that she allowed to drop as she turned.

“Jack,” she said, lifting a soft smile across her lips.

Richardson…