Chapter 29: The Waiting
My name was Thomas, and I had been waiting.
November 11, 2030. Six o’clock in the morning. I sat comfortably on my worn-out couch. The dim glow of my laptop screen illuminated the small room that had been my sanctuary for the past few months. The bunker was stocked with enough supplies to last a year, and the thick concrete walls provided a sense of security that was hard to come by these days. I had everything I needed down here—food, water, and an untraceable connection to the world above.
I scrolled through the latest headlines with cold detachment. The news was filled with reports of unrest. Whispers of rebellion were spreading like wildfire across the planet. Another City State had announced its intention to join the growing insurrection with its leaders citing the oppressive rule of the World Order as their reason. The rebellion was gaining momentum, and it was all going according to plan.
News of portal stations being attacked was similarly being spread, disallowing the rich any avenue of escape to other planets.
I had orchestrated this chaos. I had sown the seeds of distrust and let them fester, turning allies into enemies and enemies into unwitting pawns in my game. Heartstopper and Ivory—pretending to be united by a common cause—were now openly at each other’s throats, their fragile alliance crumbling under their own storylines.
Heartstopper had been the easier of the two to manipulate. His arrogance, his hunger for power—it was all too easy to exploit. When I first approached him with the idea of joining and betraying Ivory, of wrapping her up in a bow and presenting her to the World Order as a prize, he had hesitated. But not for long. I had used my power to nudge him in the right direction, dulling his suspicions and amplifying his greed until he could no longer resist the temptation.
Despite Heartstopper’s practicality, I just knew too well what made him tick.
Ivory, on the other hand, was a different story. She was… erratic. Considering I just erased her memories, it was reasonable she’d be a little paranoid. I had to be more careful with her, planting subtle doubts and letting them grow on their own. It had taken time, but eventually, she had come to see Heartstopper as the threat he truly was. In a moment of desperation, she had exposed his identity and affiliation to the rebellion, painting him in a bad picture for the World Order which Heartstopper was originally trying to woo.
What could I say? It would be worth it eventually.
The stage was set. The rebellion was on the brink of collapse, and when the dust finally settled: there would only be… me.
I took a sip of lukewarm coffee, my eyes scanning the screen for any new developments. The rebellion was in its death throes, but there was still work to be done. I needed to ensure that neither Ivory nor Heartstopper made it out alive. They were both too dangerous, too unpredictable. And they both knew too much.
I’ve been exposing myself more than I liked, and I didn’t even know if this would be worth it. I promised to Ivory that I would kill her, not that she could remember it, but that was what I exactly planned to do.
But for now, I was content to watch from the shadows, pulling the strings and letting the pieces fall where they may. I had always been good at staying under the radar, at playing the role of a Nobody.
“Soon,” I muttered to myself, thinking of the future. “It’ll all be over soon.”
Ivory had her rebel volunteers, a ragtag group of disillusioned fighters who had been pushed to the brink by the World Order's tyranny. They were willing to die for their cause, driven by a desperate hope for a better future. But hope was a fragile thing, and I had already begun to twist it to my advantage.
Heartstopper, on the other hand, had his Dead Whore gang—a brutal collection of thugs and mercenaries who thrived on chaos and violence. They were loyal to him, but only as long as he remained the strongest and the most fearsome among them. On top of that, he also had the Kane Chaplaincy, something that had remained hidden to Ivory even at this juncture. It wasn’t so hidden to me though.
I hadn’t been idle during these past months. While Heartstopper and Ivory were busy tearing each other apart, I had been laying the groundwork for the finale. It took patience and careful planning, but I had made a few very special phone calls—calls that had set in motion a series of events that would soon bring everything crashing down.
Remodeling the Kane Chaplaincy to my tool had been especially difficult. They were a fanatical group, their minds hardened by years of indoctrination and devotion to their twisted faith. But I had found a way in. My power had grown stronger, and with the right words, I could make people forget certain parts of their memories just from hearing my voice alone via the phone. It wasn’t quite mind control, but it was close enough. All it took was a masterful command of eloquence and persuasion, and even the most steadfast believer could be made to see things my way.
I looked over the pile of documents I had gathered over the past months—the intricate web of information that formed the basis of my mind-controlling scheme. Names, dates, locations—each one was a potential pawn in my game. I wasn’t exactly a mind controller, but my ability to manipulate perception and twist reality was more than enough to get what I needed. It was a bit of everything: coercion, suggestion, and the power of my voice.
The carrot and the stick had always been a useful tool for me.
I could take away people’s eyesight, their voice, and their hearing… As long as they weren’t superhuman or possessed a will of steel, they were easy prey, falling under my influence without even realizing it.
In this scheme of mine, I had involved civilians, non-powered humans, and countless innocent people. I should have felt something about it—guilt, perhaps, or at least a pang of remorse. But instead, I found that it came disturbingly easy to me. I had realized long ago that I didn’t see other people as people anymore. They were just pieces on a board, tools to be used and discarded when they had outlived their usefulness. NPCs in a game that I was determined to win.
It wasn’t apathy. And it wasn’t like I planned to put my subjects’ lives directly in danger. Moreover, my minions would be more useful to me alive than dead. If anything, I planned to protect my subjects very well: they were my human shields after all.
I pushed the documents aside.
I changed into a familiar hoodie, the one that had become my uniform of sorts—a dark, unassuming garment that allowed me to blend into the background. The blank white mask came next, covering my face and obscuring my identity. It was a necessary precaution; even now, with everything going according to plan, I couldn't afford to let anyone recognize me.
The smart phone that had been my lifeline since I arrived in this world was the final touch. I’ve made a total of seventy-three loyal subordinates who I could rely on.
Seventy-three might have seemed like a small number, but it was more than enough. After all, I had no plans of stopping at merely seventy-three…
They were ordinary people—non-powered, working in mundane jobs. Cooks, bartenders, monks… people who could move through the world unnoticed, just as I did. They were my eyes and ears, my decoys, and they had all been carefully selected for their usefulness and their ability to follow orders without question.
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I walked out of the bunker, leaving the safety of its thick concrete walls behind. The air outside was stale, heavy with the scent of smoke and decay. The apartment where Lois and I had once lived was now in shambles, the ceiling torn apart, furniture destroyed. It was almost unrecognizable, emphasizing just how much had changed since those days. But it was convenient that they hadn’t found my bunker. As far as anyone knew, this was just another ruined building in a city full of them.
Kane City had become a warzone. Among the fifty-two City-States, half were either destroyed or had bent their knee to the rebellion. Meanwhile, the other half was yet to decide on whether to fold or to fight back.
I stepped through the doorway, out into the open air. The streets were a wasteland, littered with the remnants of fallen buildings and the detritus of a society in collapse. Rubble and debris were strewn everywhere. It was a grim sight, but it didn’t faze me. This was exactly what I had expected.
And to think it had only been months since Ivory began.
As I walked, I tapped out a message on my phone, sending a signal to my closest associates. Soon, we would begin the next phase of the plan. Each one knew their role, and they would play it to perfection.
“Gina,” I called out to her as I approached the sleek, black car parked near the rubble. Its pristine exterior was a quite the contradiction to the chaos around us. “Take me to church. Proceed as planned.”
“Understood,” Gina was already behind the wheel, waiting for me. She had been one of Heartstopper’s top operatives, a high-level mind controller with a talent for manipulation that even I admired. When I had first approached her, she had been wary and suspicious of my intentions. But it hadn’t taken long to bring her under my influence. Now, she was one of my most valuable assets, responsible for corralling the Kane Chaplaincy and ensuring their loyalty remained unshaken.
It was through Gina I managed to steal Kane Chaplaincy under Heartstopper’s nose.
As I settled into the passenger seat, she turned to me. “You will take it away, won’t you? The bad… memories… just like you promised.”
I could see the strain in her expression, the weight of the horrors she had been forced to endure while serving under Heartstopper. He had used her, exploited her abilities to further his own twisted agenda, and in the process, had left her mind scarred and broken. She wasn’t the only one. Many of my minions had come to me with similar stories, their memories haunted by the things they had seen and done.
It was a recurring theme in the game’s storylines, background characters suffering for the sake of the game’s added flavor.
Heartstopper might be a reasonable man, but he had to endure worth of two people’s super psychosis: his own and his wife. Sometimes, Heartstopper would get a little bit touchy and torture-y thanks to paranoia and the like.
Of course none of Heartstopper’s minions would dare move against him… The selectable player characters back in ‘Versus’ were just that fearsome and dangerous.
I wouldn’t merely threaten people with the thought of making them forget how to use certain organs or coerce them with the fear of erasing their happiest memories if they weren’t obedient. I had learned that offering a way out—a promise of relief from their pain—was far more effective. Like I said: carrot and stick.
“Of course,” I said, my voice softening as I reached out to touch her arm. “I will take them away, Gina. All the bad memories… they’ll be gone, just like that. However, we have a business to attend.”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension easing as she let out a shaky breath. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with gratitude.
It was always easier to control someone when they thought you were helping them. Gina would continue to serve me, her loyalty unwavering, because she believed I could give her peace. And in a way, I could. I had perfected the art of selective memory erasure, a technique that allowed me to remove specific memories while leaving the rest of the mind intact.
As the car glided smoothly through the wreckage-strewn streets, I leaned back in my seat, my mind already shifting to the next phase of my plan.
“Drive faster,” I murmured, my eyes narrowing as I focused on the road ahead. “We have work to do.”
Soon, we arrived at the ruined church, its once-majestic structure reduced to a skeletal frame. It was dark for dusk had come. Little bonfires in barrels illuminated the place, while the people gathered at the edges of the clearing, their figures outlined against the fading light. They moved in an eerie silence, parting like a sea as our vehicle approached, their eyes hollow with despair and anticipation.
“How many?” I asked, glancing at Gina as she maneuvered the car through the throng.
Gina’s voice was steady, but there was an undercurrent of tension. “As many as we could cram into that church. I believe more will come… they always do.”
I nodded approvingly.
Why were they exactly here?
It was because word had spread that I could take their bad memories away.
The promise of escape from their torment was a powerful lure, and it had drawn them here in droves. These were the lost, the broken, the ones who had nothing left to live for—and they were mine for the taking.
As I stepped out of the car, the crowd seemed to press in closer, their eyes fixed on me with hopeless desperation. Gina followed a few steps behind me, her gaze flitting nervously over the mass of desperate faces. I sighed… Gina used to be a cult leader, wasn’t she? It was weird seeing her nervous.
The amount of people gathering round here must have been staggering. They formed a rather intimidating crowd. I could feel the weight of their expectations, the silent pleas for relief that hung in the air like a heavy fog. Under Heartstopper, Kane Chaplaincy had become a brainwashing cult focused on the elite and middle class.
However, under me— I wouldn’t care about a person’s demographic background.
I walked through the broken entrance of the church. The worn stones echoed beneath my feet. Inside, the crowd had already begun to gather, filling the pews and spilling into the aisles. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and unwashed bodies, mingling with the faint, musty smell of the old building.
Despite the decay, there was a certain reverence in the way the people moved, as if they were on the cusp of salvation.
I made my way to the podium at the front of the church, the ancient wood creaking under my weight. The crowd parted for me, their whispers hushed as they watched my every move. Gina remained close by, her presence a reassuring constant in the midst of the throng.
Taking a deep breath, I addressed the crowd, my voice carrying through the cavernous space. “I will take away your bad, mad, and sad memories,” I began, letting the words sink in. “In exchange, you shall pledge your allegiance to me. You can be happy again. If you cannot forget, then I will forget them in your stead.”
A murmur rippled through the crowd, a collective sigh of relief mingled with disbelief. They looked at me with wide eyes, some trembling with the intensity of their need. Slowly, they began to step forward, one by one, each person baring their soul to me, confessing their darkest memories, their most harrowing experiences.
The three months of war broke these people.
The World Order’s loyalists that remained in this planet fought to their last as the rebellion proliferated. The result was the common populace’s suffering.
Kane City was the first to fall.
I did as I promised. With each confession, I used my power to take away their pain, erasing the memories that had haunted them for so long. It was a delicate process, one that required a literal confession from the person themselves.
As each person left the podium, they were handed a black hoodie and a blank white mask, the uniform of my followers. They slipped the garments on, their identities fading away, replaced by the anonymity I offered. It was a small price to pay for the peace I granted them.
The crowd continued to grow, more and more people pouring into the church, drawn by the promise of relief. I watched as they filed in, their faces a blur of desperation and hope. This was my domain now, a small paradise built on the foundation of forgotten pain and suppressed memories. And as long as they believed in the lie I had crafted, they would remain loyal to me, bound by the shared delusion I had created.
Hours passed, but I didn’t tire. I continued to listen, to erase, and to transform. By the time the last person stepped away from the podium, the church was filled with the silent, hooded figures of my new followers, their faces hidden behind the featureless masks.
I stood at the podium, surveying the sea of blank stares that now filled the once-empty church. A sense of satisfaction washed over me. This was only the beginning. These people were the tools with which I would reshape the world, the instruments of my will. And they would serve me without question, their loyalty ensured by the memories I had taken from them.
For a moment, I allowed myself to relish the power I held, the knowledge that I had turned these broken souls into my obedient followers. But then, I reminded myself that there was still much to be done. The rebellion was teetering on the edge of collapse, and soon, it would fall completely. Ivory, Heartstopper, the World Order—they would all crumble before me, and when the dust settled, I would be the one left standing.
With a final glance at the crowd, I turned to Gina. “It’s time,” I said quietly, my voice carrying an edge of finality. “We have more work to do.”
And then I turned to my followers, “I only desire one thing from you: preach.”