“Ugh,” Rocke groaned, stretching his back. He’d fallen asleep at an odd angle.

“Sorry, Rocke. I didn’t mean to wake you so early, but uncle insisted,” Kallane said, her mood sour. “It’s not even sunset yet, and he’s already kicking us out.”

In response, Rocke mumbled a garbled reply that vaguely sounded like a request for coffee. He disliked mornings, his scant hours of sleep not helping.

But his friend intuited his words with a nod and left. Rocke dragged himself to the dining room, delicious smells greeted him as he entered. After two weeks of bland gruel, they were heavenly!. Everyone was already there. They must have woken him last.

“Matthias!” Rocke blubbered as he spotted his friend sipping a glass of orange juice. While still in rough shape, the prophet’s condition seemed much improved.

“Morning, Rocke,” Matthias laughed as Rocke dove into him for a hug. It was unseemly, something his father would have scolded him for, but he didn’t care.

“It’s okay, lad. I’m alright,” the prophet said, returning his hug. There was no judgment in his tone, only loving acceptance.

When Rocke regained his composure, he pulled away from his friend, slightly embarrassed. “I thought I lost you. Are you okay?”

“My chest still hurts, but I’ll manage,” Matthias replied.

“Thank the Sovereign,” Rocke said, sighing in relief. He thanked Kallane as she passed him a cup of coffee. While bitter and without either cream or sugar, it helped wake his dull mind.

“Eat up, everyone,” Maple placed a plate of sausages and toast on the table. It smelled wonderful. “The eggs are almost done.”

“Thanks, Maple. You’ve always been a fantastic cook,” Hooven said, taking his share before anyone else.

“An impatient boy, as usual,” Maple replied, with some amusement. Of everyone, only she seemed unbothered by her brother’s rotten behavior. “I recall how you snuck food before prayer at the dinner table. Mom used to give you such a scolding for it.”

“I remember,” Hooven said, wearing a nostalgic smile. “I was an unruly child.”

Maple beamed, and the pair of siblings shared a moment between them. Despite their differences, Rocke realized Hooven truly loved his sister.

“While I don’t think they’d completely agree with your decisions, they’d still be proud of you,” Maple whispered, pulling her brother into a hug. “You’ve made a life for yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah. Stop bothering me. I’m trying to eat.” But Hooven’s protest was half-hearted. “When you leave, just be careful, okay? Your world isn’t mine. I can’t join you. You know that, Maple.”

“He could if he tried,” Kallane said, crossing her arms.

But Maple only gave her brother a sad smile. “As always, you never change. Just be careful, okay? Vladus isn’t as safe as it appears. The Sovereign has proclaimed that the city will soon face His judgement.”

“Don’t worry about me. I can handle myself,” Hooven seemed unconcerned about his sister’s dire pronouncement.

After sharing a look with Hooven, Maple shook her head. “Now, enough about that. Eat up. We’ll need your strength for the day ahead. We should leave as soon as possible. It isn’t safe sitting in one place for too long.”

Rocke nodded, filling his plate with more sausages. This might be his last decent meal for days. He forgot the troubles ahead and only enjoyed the food before him. When eggs were done, Rocke took a generous portion of that too.

“Where are we going from here?” Rocke asked once he depleted his plate. A welcome fullness filled his chest, rejuvenating him.

“Leaving Vladus would be preferable,” Maple replied. “But they’ll expect that. They’ll have a tight grip on who passes the city gates. I have a safe house ready where we can stay until the situation cools down.”

“Okay.” Rocke didn’t allow his disappointment to show on his face. He’d been looking forward to reuniting with his grandmother.

“But what about you, Nitao? What are your plans?” Rocke asked, curious.

“Stay with you,” Nitao replied in his usual terse way. “Best chance.”

“And after that?” Kallane asked. “It won’t be easy, but we might be able to smuggle you out of the country. Though, returning you to Konquell will be a tougher prospect.” The country had strict travel restrictions. That race enjoyed its privacy.

“Still stay. Nowhere else to go,” Nitao refused to elaborate any further. Rocke sensed a deep sadness within the man, something painful from his past, perhaps even shameful. They didn’t press the issue, allowing the man to open up when he was ready.

“We’re glad to have you, Nitao,” Matthias said. “We’ll do our best to keep you safe. You’re under the umbrella of the Sovereign’s protection.”

Nitao stayed deathly quiet after that, refusing to look at anyone. “Thanks.”

After breakfast, they quickly gathered everything they needed. Hooven offered them some packs of bottled water and canned goods. While the safe house had supplies, the extras wouldn’t hurt. They didn’t know how long they’d stay there.

“Keep it easy and no strenuous activity,” Hooven told Matthias as they approached the door. The prophet nodded and promised to follow the doctor’s advice.

“Thanks for all your help,” Maple said. She gave her daughter a nudge with her elbow.

“Yeah, thanks,” Kallane reluctantly added. Rocke wondered if she’d ever get along with her uncle. The proud girl didn’t easily forgive.

Rocke shared a handshake with their host, wondering if he’d ever see the doctor again.

“Just be careful out there, okay?” Hooven said from the doorway. “I never saw you, okay? You were never here.”

Maple gave her thanks, and they crammed into the van. Rocke watched as they left the suburbs for the rougher parts of Vladus. A palpable unease gathered in his chest the further they got away from Hooven’s house. They’d left their last bastion of safety. Danger would hunt them from now on. Chief Rolf still wanted revenge for his fallen nephew. He won’t stop until he got his justice.

---

“The UOP has forsaken the Sovereign’s protection. It has become sinful and vain; ergo, it must be judged. But fear not. The Sovereign is merciful and won’t destroy the UOP utterly. No, He will humble you and show that He is the Lord,” Matthias said. “Repent, and you will avoid much unneeded pain.”

“Still at it, huh?” Rocke said, amazed.

“I may be a fugitive, but the message must continue.” The prophet stood over a microphone connected to a miniature computer, beaming at his young friend. “It is what the Sovereign commanded me to do. I dare not be derelict in it. Twenty-one days remain until His judgment day.”

“Right.” While Rocke had developed a greater affinity for the Great Lord, he remained doubtful about the incoming judgment. Would He really bring the UOP to its knees? While well-deserved, could such a powerful nation fall so easily? The UOP had developed many powerful enemies over the centuries, but none had withstood its overwhelming might.

“It’s a pain that I can’t appear publicly anymore, but this podcast business should work as a nifty alternative. Okay, Kallane, I’m done. Get this spread across the internet.” Matthias said.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“You’re such an old man, Matthias,” Kallane said, amused.

“I’ve never been that technologically literate,” the Soothsayer admitted, abashed. To Rocke, this seemed like rather simple technology, but whatever.

Behind him, Nitao watched with interest. “So, Matthias, prophet?”

“Oh, I suppose you don’t know about that yet,” Rocke said. While Kallane had called Matthias a holy man several times, they hadn’t exactly given their new allies the details. “It’s part of the reason they arrested me.” Rocke’s tone became more melancholy, laced with pain. “A man died when I fought to protect Matthias here. Many people don’t like his message.”

“The UOP is prideful. It is said in my old country that it will be their downfall.” Nitao nodded in understanding. Was that respect in Konquelian’s eyes? “You are an honorable man, Rocke. The UOP did you a disservice. I envy you.” There was genuine pain in his voice. They waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Nitao left them for the small kitchenette to get a light snack.

Rocke changed the subject. “Still, won’t they delete it right away? And it might lead them to this safe house.” It was a spare building, hiding among many other simple apartments.

While not a slum, exactly, the neighborhood had seen better days. It was Vladus’s policy to build over buildings that had become obsolete. Rocke guessed the neighborhood would face demolition within two years for new development. Seeing the writing on the walls, many of its inhabitants had already moved out. Anyone who couldn’t afford to move the city would forcibly evict them. The city would force those poor souls to live in the slum district. In the UOP, the poor fend for themselves.

“We’ll spread it around. I’ve already made sure it won’t get tracked back to us,” Kallane replied, putting the portable computer away. “And I know some circles who’ll ensure it doesn’t get lost.” The main problem was getting the people of the UOP to believe the message.

“Good luck, then,” Rocke said solemnly. His mood dampened, flopping onto a nearby armchair. His friends were so amazing and brave. Rocke felt useless and hopeless, like a boat without a rudder or engine.

“Is everything alright, Rocke?” Matthias asked.

“I envy you, Matthias,” Rocke replied. “You always seem to know where you’re going. Your life has a purpose. Me? I have nothing anymore.”

“I understand,” the prophet replied. “Meeting me has thrown your life into turmoil. For that, I’m sorry. You don’t deserve what happened to you.”

This admission surprised Rocke, but he didn’t begrudge his friend. “No, it’s not your fault. I chose to stop Joven, and I’m paying for it.”

“But remember this, Rocke. You aren’t alone. I’m here for you.” Matthias gave him a slight smile. “And the rest of us are, too. I don’t think your life’s over with, either, Rocke. The Sovereign has a special purpose for you. There’s a reason we met on that fateful day.”

“And what would that be? I’m a killer, Matthias. Why would the Sovereign want to use someone whose hands are stained with blood?” Frankly, the more he prayed to the Great Lord, the less deserving of His blessings Rocke felt. It made him painfully aware of how sinful, selfish, and unworthy he was. Compared to the Sovereign’s majesty, he was less than a dust mote.

Matthias grabbed his hands and squeezed. “We all fall short of the Sovereign’s majesty, but He still loves us, even the worst sinners. He offers forgiveness to anyone, no matter their crime, if they only ask sincerely. Not because we deserve it, but because He wants to give it. His grace knows no bounds. The Sovereign isn’t finished with you. You have a special purpose. Just wait and see.” He gave Rocke a wink.

“If you say so.” But Rocke’s heart lightened. That the Sovereign forgave him with no conditions made his head spin. Rocke’s own father had expected him to earn his forgiveness. That man gave nothing freely. It almost made Rocke doubt his friend’s words, but some insight insisted they were true.

“Given freely, huh?” Could he help Matthias spread this message? While not a preacher, Rocke figured he could help in his own way. “Is there anything I can do to help here?”

Kallane lifted her attention away from her portable computer. “Sure! What are you good at?”

”I have some rudimentary computer skills, but I’m no hacker. I was taking business classes if that helps. My father wished for me to pursue law, but I lacked the talent for it.”

“What kind of business?” Kallane asked, curious.

“I’m not too sure yet. I was thinking about starting a printing company. Everyone has needs for flyers, banners, leaflets, that sort of thing, even in our computerized age.”

“Can you design one—a flyer, I mean?” Kallane’s eyes were shining.

“I suppose. I took some design classes. Why?”

Kallane slapped Rocke’s back, making him jerk forward. “I think we might have a use for you.” She beamed at him, and Rocke grinned back.

---

“No, not there!” Marsh said in frustration.

“Okay, Master Marshion,” Kana said, dropping the vase like a stone. Marsh winced as it smashed against the hardwood floor.

“You idiot! That was my grandmother’s!” Marsh cursed Rocke’s uncle’s insistence that the apartment’s floors be hardwood. Carpet might have saved it from being smashed.

Whatever. Once the lease expired, Marsh would move somewhere else. While he hadn’t said anything, Rocke’s uncle had implied he wanted Marsh to leave as soon as possible. Until then, he’d enjoy the apartment and the lavish shopping complex beneath it. Three floors down was the best noodle restaurant he’d ever seen.

“My apologies, Master Marshion. Do you want it placed somewhere else? What about the coffee table near the sofa?”

“How? It’s broken beyond repair!” Marsh fought back his annoyance. Kana was only an AI bot; she didn’t have normal thinking processes like a human. The mechinoid was remarkably human-like. If it weren’t for the flashing red triangle on her forehead, she might pass for a human. “Just stand over in the corner, please.”

Marsh winced as Kana knocked over some books sitting too far off a side table and smashed a glass he’d carelessly placed on top of them. He grunted in frustration when the front door buzzed.

“Coming.” He hoped it wasn’t another leech asking for donations. Instead, he found Rocke’s ex-girlfriend, Jafia, behind the peephole.

“Jafia, hello,” Marsh said as he opened the door. “Nice to see you?”

“I hope I’m not intruding.” The woman’s eyebrows raised as she saw the mess behind him.

“No, come in. Sorry about the mess. It’s been a trying day,” Marsh said, allowing Jafia inside.

As usual, Jafia absorbed her surroundings with a glance. Her hawk-like gaze missed little, noticing the blonde-haired woman standing in the corner, still as a statue. “Is it one of the new AI bots?”

“Yeah, bought her last week. I wasn’t happy with her initial programming, so I’ve been tampering with it. She talked way too much. I prefer my women to be pretty, but preferably furniture when they’re not needed. My efforts haven’t been very successful, though, so there’ve been some complications.” He gestured to the mess. “Even getting her to clean has been a hassle.”

“Women should be seen but not heard?” The icy woman didn’t even hide her disdain.

“What do you want, anyway?” Marsh asked, clearly aware Jafia hadn’t come for a chat.

“I was wondering if Rocke dropped by.”

“Rocke? Why would he? He’s still in jail. From what I understand, they refused to release him on parole.”

“You haven’t heard?” Jafia raised an eyebrow. “Rocke escaped jail yesterday.”

“Huh?” Marsh blinked, befuddled.

“Don’t you read the news?” Jafia asked, somewhat exasperated.

“No. First I’ve heard about it. But no, he hasn’t been around,” A twinge of guilt stabbed Marsh’s heart.

Since his arrest, Marsh hadn’t visited his friend once. But he tossed the guilt aside. Like his father always said, guilt and shame were a prison. The past didn’t matter. Besides, Rocke only had himself to blame for his predicament.

“Thought as much,” Jafia replied. “It was a long shot. Like Rocke could expect you to help him in his hour of greatest need. I heard you ratted him out to the police. You didn’t even try to help him, did you?”

How did she learn about that? “Is there anything else you want?” Marsh didn’t appreciate being talked down to. And how could anyone blame him for giving up Rocke to the police? It was his civic duty to help the law!

“Are Rocke’s things still here?” Jafia asked.

“Yeah, why? Don’t tell me you want them?” How lame. After breaking up, she was pining for Rocke again? Someone who was a criminal, too? Whatever. “They’re still in Rocke’s room. His family told me to throw his stuff, but I haven’t gotten around to doing that yet. Take whatever you want.” In fact, he hadn’t even entered the room since Rocke got arrested. For whatever reason, he couldn’t muster the courage to do so.

“Good.” Jafia stepped out the front door and returned with some empty boxes.

Rocke’s room reflected its once-owner. While there was a thin layer of dust, it was clean and organized, a trait he shared with Jafia. On a shelf were rows of books on various topics, mostly business. Rocke was serious about his studies, though there were also some books on philosophy and history.

It wasn’t all dry academic stuff, though. Rocke also enjoyed sports and had various merchandise for the local baseball team, the Vipers. His prized possession was a baseball signed by Rue Ravel, a star player who died years before they were even born. Marsh couldn’t recall what made him so famous, caring little about the dull sport.

With surprising care, Jafia stored each piece neatly, wasting no space within the boxes. She stored Rocke’s personal computer in a backpack, careful not to damage it. In quick order, she had everything packed.

“Why bother taking his stuff?” Marsh asked when she finished. “I doubt you’ll ever see him again.”

But Jafia didn’t respond, instead taking an interest in Kana. She inserted a wire from Rocke’s personal computer into a slot on the AI bot’s neck. “You said you had some trouble with her AI? Let me see if I can help.”

“Okay,” Marsh said in surprise. It was remarkably generous, considering Jafia’s usually cold opinion of him. He watched as she typed away at the keyboard with deft fingers.

“There, done,” Jafia said, hitting enter. She returned the personal computer to the backpack.

“Okay, nice.” Marsh waited for her to elaborate on what she’d fixed, but Jafia said nothing. Instead, she balanced the boxes with Rocke’s stuff and moved to leave. Marsh didn’t offer to help open the door for her.

“Hello, Master Marshion. Is there anything you require?” Kana asked.

“No, stop bothering me.” He watched as Jafia returned for the last set of boxes.

“Hello, Master Marshion. Is there anything you require?”

“No! Did you really fix her, Jafia? She’s acting annoying again.”

“Hello, Master Marshion. Is there anything you require?” Kana moved uncomfortably close, and Marsh edged away.

“AI bots are notorious for serious bugs.” Jafia left without a backward glance.

“Hello, Master Marshion. Is there anything you require?” Without realizing it, he’d accidentally cornered himself.

“Stop! Leave me alone, Kana!”

“Leave you? How could you say that after everything I’ve done for you? You are a real brute, Marshion. I hate you.” A blow came so fast that he hadn’t the chance to dodge. It left Marsh dazed on the ground. He glanced up in terror at the blonde beauty standing above him.

“Brute. I hate you. Don’t leave me. I don’t want to be alone.” Another blow to the ribs left Marsh feeling it crack bone.

“Jafia! Anyone! Please help!” But no one came as the AI girlfriend pounced on him, each blow landing with crushing force. She wailed at him until he was a red streak across the hardwood floor.

---

With a grunt, Jafia loaded the last of Rocke’s things into her car. His collection of heavy books had made taking them down a challenge. She hoped it wouldn’t be too long until she reunited with Rocke, but she wouldn’t mind keeping his things in her car until then. Above her, birds chirped in a nearby tree, their birdsong almost drowned out by the traffic. Despite her many years in Vladus, the hustle and bustle of the city still overwhelmed her. It was a far cry from the village she’d grown up in.

A notification flashed on her phone, pulling her to the news page. “Yesterday, household staff found Defense Minister Polk Loffie in critical condition. He’d apparently fallen down a flight of stairs at his home. The minister was rushed to intensive care at Hope Hospital, where he remained until he passed away last night. He was 68.” With a slight smile, Jafia snapped her phone shut and whistled to herself as she closed the rear door of her car.

Traffic was bustling as she headed deeper into Vladus. Jafia tapped her finger as her radio blared hard music, almost deafening in its intensity. She nearly missed her phone’s notification chime. She gave a quick glance at the brief message she’d gotten. With a tap of her fingers, she changed course from her apartment to a park on the city’s outskirts.

The return to nature was nice as she walked through the park. The landscape sprawled in the distance, almost making one forget it sat on a building’s roof. Vladus didn’t have any natural parks anymore. Jafia watched some children play around an artificial lake, chasing ducks that had been minding their business. She gasped as someone bumped into her hard and glared at them.

“Watch where you’re going,” Jafia said, her tone frigid.

“Apologies. My mistake,” the older man said, tipping his hat at her before walking away.

“Hmph.” Jafia walked off, palming the metal box in her pocket. When she returned to her car after a lengthy walk, Jafia opened the gift. It contained a slip of paper written in a complicated cipher, but Jafia’s technical mind translated it in a glance. She shoved the paper into her mouth and swallowed.

“Honestly, that’s my next assignment?” Jafia shook her head as she started her car. “They realized that I’m not a miracle worker?” Still, she’d fulfill her duty. For Vanderfall’s sake, Mayor Cal Sunbearer would die.