I glanced at my dwindling audience. “No hard feelings to any of you doing your jobs. Drop your weapons—they’re not doing anything anyway—and I promise you’ll walk away from this with just a fuzzy memory. Resist, though, and… well, I can’t make any promises.”
Clink. Clatter. Thud.
One by one, the bodyguards’ weapons hit the ground. The sound echoes in the sudden silence. Once the last gun hit the dust, I crunched a few more adamantine bars in my hand and swiped them on my scales again. My hair shimmered with renewed iridescence.
Alright, fingers crossed this works…
Focusing my power, I willed strands of my hair to extend. They shot out, iridescent whips of light, reaching every servant and bodyguard within the dome. Before they could even blink, the strands gently poked their heads, freezing them in place.
Then, by picturing a browser history in my mind. Then, I mentally select “clear browsing data.” Specifically, the last twenty-four hours. This simple mental command triggers a cascade of unseen processes through each hair-strand, commanding the absorption of their memories from the past day.
Tiny, faint specks of light, like miniature fireflies, zip from each person’s forehead, racing along the strands of my hair towards me.
A whirlwind of images flooded my mind: rushed breakfasts, tedious auction preparations, the mundane tasks of following Caesar around, the sudden panic, the escalating chaos… It was like watching a hundred different movies at once, each playing at double speed.
Delete! I commanded internally, and the chaotic montage vanished from my mind.
As the last speck of light zipped along the iridescent strands and into me, each person slumped into a deep, peaceful sleep. It was as if the entire day had been erased from their minds. Every wound they’d sustained, like those of the Sea Serpent, closed and healed, leaving no trace.
I turn my attention to Lawrence, who’s collapsed on the ground, having dumped Caesar beside him. He stared at me with a mixture of fear and utter hopelessness. It was clear they’d never experienced anything remotely close to this reality-bending event. They’d always lived such sheltered lives, cocooned by the Lucretier family’s protection.
“Wh-what in the hells are you?” Caesar stammered, his voice trembling. “No… no machine, no weapon could… It’s impossible. Are you… a Harbinger? But… we gave them everything they asked for!”
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Lawrence looked at his uncle in complete disbelief, a flicker of disgust crossing his face. “I had absolutely no involvement with… with any of this,” he insisted, kicking his uncle to the side for emphasis. “That… that imbecile is solely responsible!” He turned back to me, his voice now a desperate plea. “I’ll give you anything you want! Name your price! Anything! Wealth, access, favors… Please… Please… Please…” He continued to beg, a pathetic, whimpering mess.
I shook my head. “I won’t fault you for what you’ve become,” I said, my voice even. “That’s on your parents, your family—they’re the ones responsible for your upbringing. But since you’re still young, I’ll give you a second chance… if you deserve it.”
Multiple strands of my hair shot out, gently piercing Lawrence’s head. Once again, I pictured a browser history tab in my mind. This time, I refined my search, inputting specific keywords: murder, rape, bullying, abuse, harassment…
Thankfully, not a single speck of light zipped back for murder or rape. Bullying, abuse, and harassment, however, drew out a few images from his childhood and teenage years. Nothing too extreme, nothing unforgivable—just the usual rich kid shenanigans.
Nodding slowly, I look down at Lawrence. “I’m happy to announce you passed the test,” I said. “You’re not as bad as you look. Consider this your promised second chance.”
I absorb and remove all the memories and injuries he sustained over the past day, just like I did with everyone else. Before retracting my hair, I whisper to him as he faints, “If you fail at being a good person, next time you won’t be so lucky.”
Last but not least, Caesar. I walk up to him, and he backs away, scrabbling at the ground. In a last, pathetic act of defiance, he scoops up a handful of dirt and throws it at me. “Ahhhhhh!” Caesar’s scream echoes under the dome.
I stare down at him. “Don’t worry, you’ll live,” I said. I think back to the warm, comforting afterlife I almost experienced. He definitely doesn't deserve to be there after everything he’s done.
“From the little time I’ve known you,” I continue, my voice even, “I’m already certain you’ve racked up a truly impressive list of terrible acts. And yet,” I tilt my head slightly, “not a single flicker of regret. Not a single twinge of remorse.” I pause, taking in his disbelieving stare in the moon’s blue light. “The afterlife is a mercy you so clearly haven’t earned.”
“If this society’s going to give you a free pass, then I’ll have to step in.” I shrug. “You’ll remain in this world, yes, but I’m taking away every happy and joyful memory you’ve ever had. I’m also confiscating your pride, your self-esteem, your courage, and of course, everything that happened today.” I pause, just to let the full weight of that sink in.
“You will live,” I explain, “but you won’t remember why you’re here, and you’ll never again experience joy, pride, or courage. It’ll be like they were never even a part of your life. From now on, your life will be a constant uphill struggle, with no relief, and no understanding of what it even means to feel happiness or fulfillment.”
“NO! YOU CAN’T! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT! NO! You won’t take me alive!” Caesar screams, his voice cracking with a manic edge. He actually tries to bite his own tongue. Before he can manage anything more dramatic, a strand of my hair pierces his skull, freezing him in place. His eyes bulge, bloodshot and frantic, as he tries to fight against the inevitable.