"She should be in the infirmary, sir. Not here. She was hurt pretty badly, and we have more tools and equipment available in the infirmary."

"Her vitals state otherwise. Stabilize her without any excuses, healer," a deep voice growled. "I don't want her out of my sight until the entire castle has been swept."

I groaned. Awareness settled in, and my body felt like it was one living bruise. I felt pressure added to my upper right chest, near where my collarbone was. My eyes flickered open to see a woman standing over me. Her hands were behind the pressure against my chest. Pain radiated from the area, but I would live. The button holding the dress's strap up had been undone to allow the healer better access to the injury. The blood was everywhere and had destroyed the dress. It looked worse than it actually was. My vital organs had been spared. "I need to stop getting hurt," I moaned.

"This was not how your homecoming was supposed to go tonight." When Sebastien spoke, his tone was much gentler. He stood opposite of the healer. We were in a dark, enclosed room. I got the sense we were underground. Before the explosion, I remembered that Sebastien had ordered everyone to the EOC, or the emergency operations center. From the different hologram workstations and communication set ups, it appeared as if that was exactly where he had brought me.

Goosebumps rose on my skin due to how chilly it was. Beyond Sebastien, there was a frenzy of activity. The dominant feature of the EOC was the twelve by twenty-four-foot holographic representation of the castle near the front wall. Seven camera feeds were pulled up against it. Two of them were black from the smoke blocking the live image. Five soldiers stood at different intervals and manipulated the holographic map. They expanded views; made notations as patrols confirmed clearances; and changed which camera feeds were enlarged. Another soldier was stationary behind a desk that monitored the radio traffic occurring throughout the castle and the city. Floating orbs seemed to relay different communications to the soldier posted at the position. There were soldiers reporting near a door, and another lieutenant who was assigning them to different patrols.

"You got impaled with shrapnel when a device detonated," Sebastien informed, pulling my attention back to him.

"Then it was a bomb," I confirmed. The healer at my side shifted on her feet as she continued to apply pressure. I realized that there wasn't any gauze in between her hand and my skin. She was staunching the bleeding with her bare hands, which were radiating with a faint glow. I watched the healing magic, amazed and distracted. "Between this and the cream Kyrian used on my leg, I think I could become immortal."

Sebastien's frown dominated his face. "I don't like that you've been toeing the line with death these past couple of days."

The healer lifted her hands from me. I glanced down at my chest to see that the skin had knitted back together. Not neatly, as there was a scar and the remnants of dried blood there. Still, I wouldn't have to worry about a gaping hole in my body. The healer cleaned the site.

The woman looked exhausted, as if the use of her power had taken something from her. She examined the holographic screen in front of her. An array of different numbers—my vital signs—were organized across the screen. Then she motioned for me to sit up. With a light that came out of nowhere, she examined my pupils. I tried to not blink during her examination. "Does your head hurt?" she inquired.

"Yes," I breathed. The back left side of my head was throbbing.

When she was done, she took a step back. "She's going to need additional care," the healer said after she made the screen disappear with a wave of her hand. "She took a terrible fall and could have a concussion."

"She'll come by the infirmary."

“She should come by in a couple days. We’ll need to check for signs of a delayed concussion."

Sebastien assured her I would be sent and dismissed her so that she could assist in the triage.

My fingers fumbled with the dress's strap to re-secure it. "How many casualties have there been so far?"

Sebastien's jaw twitched. "Don't concern yourself with that."

"You just tied up a healer to take care of a superficial wound. It was unnecessary; I wasn't dying. Somebody else needed her more," I argued before biting my lip. I had almost forgotten whom I was talking to, and the incensed expression developing on Sebastien's face was the warning sign I needed before I said anything more.

"Internal brain bleeding isn't something to take lightly," he grumbled, referring to my concussion.

"I've taken worse falls before," I informed him. There had been times when my grip on the aerial hoop slipped, and I landed hard. I spent the following days as a walking bruise. I'd been lucky I hadn't broken any bones.

"You wouldn't have been thrown backwards if I had used my magic in time."

"You were the one who stopped me from tumbling down the stairs."

Sebastien nodded. "I was."

"Another bomb just exploded," exclaimed one soldier monitoring the hologram. One camera view was blown up against the hologram. It was of a part of the castle I didn't recognize and featured rows of filled bookshelves before the smoke blocked the camera screen. "It's in the library!"

Acting quickly, the soldier manning communications advised the patrol units of the detonation. There came a brief discussion on the radio airwaves about who would respond to that detonation site to extinguish the flames. Sebastien stormed away from me to meet the EOC commander at the front wall. The hologram's light striped their faces and bodies as they had their private conference.

The frenzy of the attacks continued for what seemed like hours on end as the night drifted on. Three more bombs hidden throughout the castle detonated, while the soldiers located two more before any explosions could occur. Several more commanders arrived in the operations center and took over evacuations, perimeter deployment, and searching the city. I was forgotten for the most part as Sebastien supervised everything. He had sustained only minor scrapes from the first explosion; he had refused medical attention. His eyes remained focused on the holographic rendition of the castle; his hearing was sharpened to catch all the nuanced information coming from the communications orbs. Despite his intense focus, he glanced over at me throughout the night, assuring himself I was still there.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

I was able to ascertain that Jay was still alive by listening to the communications. Every so often, I would hear him call in status updates from the perimeter patrol detail he had been assigned to. He sounded so serious and monotone, extremely unlike how he had been during Galileo's missions. There was no joking around this time. He had truly changed.

As exciting as this was at the beginning, the intensity lessened as time passed. Ennui was slithering in right around midnight, and my thoughts kept returning to my bed in my apartment. The last bomb had been located an hour and a half previously, and all the soldiers were doing now was collecting evidence and searching for that one possible remaining explosive. I felt myself nodding off in one of the abandoned chairs against the back wall when one soldier at the hologram announced a new development.

"There's an incoming feed," he broadcasted. "It's coming from an unknown source."

"Allow it through," Sebastien ordered.

Two soldiers manipulated the screen. A large square formed over the map of the castle and featured a live video feed. At first, the square featured the simple backdrop of what I assumed was the city. From how elevated the view was, I knew it was being broadcasted from a roof. The buildings behind him were painted to form a rainbow.

For seconds, there was nothing. Then a man walked into view and stood precisely in the frame's center. His wicked intentions were reflected by the simple black clay mask he was wearing to conceal his identity. He paused in front of the camera to stare straight into it. The mask's eyeholes were large enough to reveal the wearer's irises, which were dark against the stark white of his eyes. After several seconds, he started speaking.

"By now, you will have learnt of the multiple explosions we have planted around the castle. Lives may have been forfeited; lives may have been altered. This will not be the end of the mayhem either," the man started.

"It's transmitting throughout the entire city. They want everyone to hear this," one lieutenant alerted. Sebastien ignored him. The chancellor had moved to stand directly in front of the screen. I couldn't see his facial expressions as the transmission continued. Sebastien was stationary; his arms hung at his sides.

"A new civil war is upon us, ladies and gentlemen," the masked man said with a flourish of his arms. "Allow me to give you a brief history lesson that you will not learn in the Academia. While you were sleeping soundly in your beds throughout the decades, snakes were slithering into our government. When these snakes attempted to take the government by storm years ago, they were annihilated by our people. Yet, like cockroaches, they survived. They learned. They masked themselves to go undiscovered. With time, they established themselves in positions of influence. They are now creating the policies that will govern your life. They are slowly changing the world into what they wanted all those years ago, into what our grandparents despised and desperately tried to prevent."

The man disappeared from the feed and was replaced by a slideshow of five unfamiliar faces. All were adults. The photos were professional headshots. A female soldier was the first one to appear. The second one was a male professor. Another was a judge, clad in the honorable black robes. I couldn't figure out the last two's professions from their photos. The slideshow repeated as the speaker continued his monologue.

"The people you see before you now are the five souls who lost their lives on suspicion of being associated with us. The government labeled them as traitors and signed their death warrants. They were hunted down a couple of days ago, tortured for information, and killed. Let me say their names for you so that they might be remembered and honored: Mila Ironton. Colin Amray. Paeon Ellesmer. Zuko Ri. Eira Daire. You might have heard these names before: they were featured on the news yesterday as being traitors. You might have seen their bodies prostrated before the castle, as they were hung out for the scavengers to destroy before their bodies were dragged along the city streets."

I swallowed hard against the information. My mind was quick with the calculations. Yesterday, Sebastien was scheduled to attend a meeting with the daemeyri that he had planned. He missed this meeting, much to the daemeyri's disgust. Emerson had declared Sebastien had been busy with something that had come up. Was it this? Was he torturing the suspected traitors for information about this rebel group? My mouth was suddenly extremely dry.

"A century ago, we disbanded when it was necessary, when we were not needed anymore." The video returned to displaying the rebel leader. "Then we got suspicious that corruption was infiltrating our government once again. They forgot we are phoenixes. We are the Resistance. We will always rise from the ashes and come back to defend the pure soul of our heritage against any corruption. Now we will not stop until we achieve our mission. Innocent lives will be lost, as will the guilty, so this is your only warning. Our attention is on the chancellor and Senate, but we will not hesitate to shoot if innocents stumble into the middle of our battlefield." The man spoke calmly and succinctly. There was no need for him to rush. His identity had been concealed. The way that the camera was set up allowed the viewer to see only the upper half of the man's torso. His dark long sleeve shirt faded against the night, so it was difficult to see his body's build. The mask concealed every inch of his face and skull. His hair must have been cut into a military style, or he was bald, because there was no sign of it anywhere.

The lieutenant rushed over to the communication station. Speaking at a lower volume as to not disturb the video, he ordered different deployments to respond to several locations.

"Tonight, we have committed our first action of what our corrupt leaders will deem an act of treason. They will lash out, calling the Resistance cowards for not showing our faces. We disagree and believe that our first action is necessary to support an ongoing insurrection. Our following actions will continue to be from the shadows. If you do not wish to get involved or put your life at risk, we strongly advise you to stay indoors and avoid any government members. They will all be assassinated, one-by-one if need be. Diplomacy has gotten us nowhere. We will not hesitate to commit collateral murders if you dare to associate yourself with those on our hit list.

"We have learned lessons from the last time we attempted to reveal this corruption surrounding us. You will not know who we are. We are leaders, teachers, diplomats, engineers, artists, nurses, athletes, and entrepreneurs. We are your mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, and cousins. There are even some of us who are working as moles in Astraera's government and military. We are determined to restore the balance and integrity to our culture."

The video abruptly ended with a transition to pitch black. Sebastien rolled his shoulders back once before turning to face the rest of the operations room. His eyes searched the room until he found the lieutenant, who was still standing near the communications desk. "I want every single person who is a part of the Resistance to be charged with murder and conspiracy,” he declared boldly. His hands were clenched at his sides.

The lieutenant nodded once. "We have several units deploying to places they could be."

"The Ironton Clocktower?" Sebastien's eyebrow shifted at the suggestion. He knew exactly where the video had been filmed.

"Yes, one unit is deploying there."

The chancellor shook his head in dismissal. "Call them off. The Resistance will be long gone by the time they get there. Let's not waste resources. Finish clearing the castle and city, and then send everyone home."

"What about the casualties?"

Sebastien shut his eyes and rubbed a hand over them. "I'll take care of the notifications and the media. Most of them were senators anyway. I should be the one letting families know." He looked like he had long, dreadful hours ahead of him. I didn’t envy him.