Reaching his small home at last, Adam pushed open the door and stepped inside. The familiar creak of the floorboards greeted him, and the cool air was a welcome relief from the heat of the city. As he collapsed onto his bed, his mind continued to churn.
The announcement came early the next morning. Adam, still restless from the events of the night before, listened as the voice echoed from the city center, relayed through makeshift loudspeakers.
“The king has fled the country,” the announcement began, and a murmur of discontent rippled through the gathered crowd. “He has sought refuge in a neighboring nation, and they have accepted him.”
The words set the city ablaze with anger. Citizens, already teetering on the edge of chaos, erupted into shouts of outrage. The idea that another country would shelter their deposed tyrant only stoked the fires of rebellion further.
The voice continued, attempting to pacify the crowd. “However, we bring good news. An allied nation has declared its support for the people’s cause. They stand with us in solidarity during this time of rebuilding. To ensure stability, the acting head of the nation will be General Kassim. His immediate priority will be to restore order.”
Adam’s mind raced as he processed the announcement. A military general—unsurprising, given the state of disarray. Yet the following words caught his attention.
“To honor the people’s demands for a new system, the general has proposed a temporary democratic process. Each city will elect its acting leader to represent their interests during this transitional period. Candidates may submit their applications over the next week, and the election will take place one week thereafter.”
Adam smirked, his thoughts sharp as ever. A brilliant move. By refraining from directly appointing his own men, the general avoids accusations of tyranny while still controlling the narrative. He’ll have his allies run for leadership positions, ensuring they maintain influence without overtly seizing power.
The capital city, where Adam resided, was the largest, with over a million people. The other three cities had significantly smaller populations. Yet it was the capital that mattered most, and Adam’s focus narrowed to that single, crucial point.
"If I can secure the capital’s leadership, the rest will follow. Even if I don’t claim the king’s seat outright, a position of power will suffice. From there, I can start implementing my plans—laying the groundwork for what’s to come."
But there was one obstacle standing in his way: the father. The man, broken by the loss of his son, had withdrawn from the world, leaving a void in the church’s leadership. Without him, the church’s influence was splintered, and Adam knew he couldn’t rely on its support.
The afternoon sun filtered through the stained glass windows of the church, casting vibrant patterns of light across the quiet sanctuary. Adam entered, his footsteps echoing faintly on the stone floor. The church was nearly empty, with only three priests present, their voices low as they exchanged pleasantries. They greeted Adam with warm but reserved smiles; though he was a familiar face, he was still somewhat of an enigma to them.
“Good to see you, Badr,” Idris said, stepping forward. His tone was friendly, but there was a weight to his words, as if he carried more on his shoulders than usual.
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“And you, Idris,” Adam replied, offering a slight bow. He glanced at the other priests, who nodded politely before resuming their quiet tasks.
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, the conversation drifted toward the elections, a topic that hung over the city like an ever-present shadow. Idris leaned against a pew, his voice tinged with both pride and uncertainty.
“The general came to see me,” he began. “He wanted to know if the father would run for office. But… the father hasn’t answered anyone. It’s like he’s vanished entirely.”
The other priests exchanged worried looks, their expressions mirroring Idris’s concern. One of them, an older man with a lined face and tired eyes, sighed. “The loss of his son has left him broken. He’s retreated from everything.”
Idris nodded solemnly. “The general suggested that I run in his place,” he continued, his tone growing more thoughtful. “He said he’d support me, but… I’m not sure if I’m the right person for this.”
The other two priests immediately voiced their encouragement, their words overlapping in their eagerness.
“You’ve always been a voice for the people, Idris.”
“You’d be perfect for it. Think of the good you could do.”
Adam watched the exchange with quiet interest, his expression betraying none of the calculations running through his mind. He waited until the other priests had finished their endorsements before speaking.
“Congratulations,” Adam said smoothly, his voice steady and reassuring. “It’s a great honor. If you decide to run, you’ll have my full support.”
Idris’s face lit up with a mixture of gratitude and relief. “Thank you, Adam. That means a lot.”
Adam’s smile didn’t falter, but his mind was already working. He had no intention of allowing Idris, the general’s chosen candidate, to gain the upper hand. The priest’s sincerity and connection to the people made him a formidable contender, but his hesitations revealed a potential vulnerability. Adam knew that for all his virtues, Idris lacked the cunning and decisiveness required to wield true power. He was a symbol, not a strategist.
As the conversation continued, Adam skillfully guided it toward Idris’s potential candidacy. “The people trust you, Idris,” he said, his tone warm but deliberate. “You’ve always been there for them. Running for office could be the natural next step in your service to the community.”
Idris hesitated, his brow furrowing. “But I’m not sure I’m ready for such a role. Politics… it’s a different world. I’ve always served through faith, not power.”
“Faith and power don’t have to be at odds,” Adam countered gently. “Sometimes, to protect what we hold sacred, we must step into the realm of leadership. Who better to guide the city than someone rooted in the church’s values?”
The other priests nodded in agreement, their voices echoing Adam’s sentiments. Idris seemed to consider their words, his doubts momentarily easing.
“Perhaps you’re right,” Idris said finally, his voice quiet but resolute. “If the general believes in me and the people want me, then maybe this is what I’m meant to do.”
Adam’s smile widened, though a flicker of amusement danced in his eyes. He had planted the seed of confidence in Idris, but he knew it wouldn’t take much to shift the tides if necessary. For now, he played the part of the supportive ally, his true intentions hidden beneath a veneer of camaraderie.
As the conversation wound down, Idris excused himself to prepare for a meeting with the general. The other priests lingered, discussing the logistics of campaigning and how they could support Idris’s efforts.
Adam stayed behind, his gaze drifting toward the altar. The sanctuary was quiet again, but the undercurrent of tension lingered. He felt a strange sense of satisfaction as he considered the path ahead. Idris might believe he was stepping into the spotlight as a leader, but Adam knew better.
“Good luck, Idris,” Adam murmured under his breath, his tone laced with irony. “You’ll need it.”