—

Night cast its shadow across the city lit up by blue and white.

A black car had parked itself in front of the tall glass tower which grasped for the skies, surrounded by yet more of those stony-faced men for the man in the suit that approached its thick doors. Everyone knew he was a war criminal, yet he was one of the founding fathers of the nation at the same time and therefore would not simply be grabbed by his collar and forced into his seat like any other criminal in the Empire would be. These stony dogs in some part of their hearts still respected him, though none of them would admit it.

Hundreds of white flashes erupted across from the buildings surrounding the one he just left. The Empire could cordon off the street, but no government could stop determined citizens from photographing what they want - the citizens of a nation are an inherently determined bunch, not much given to staying put when told to do so. It had been so since Vietnam and stayed that way. The object of their fascination - the rugged man in the suit who helped build their Empire and then to burn it down disappeared into the black vehicle, his visage hidden behind black glass.

Yet the flashes never stopped. The whole area would be lit up by flash after flash, in a mess of ever-recurring white lights. It seemed this man was no puny little rebel - and despite TV screens across the Empire having displayed him as a criminal and as the man who plunged it into a civil war, he still had his fans, especially in his home country of Secundus - along whose autobahn the vehicle trundled along slowly an hour later, with not a soul in sight. The entire road network had been cleared - the Emperor was no ill-informed fool, he knew his two old friends were supported by many, even if vilified by most. The shadows are not very vocal, after all, yet were all too good at showing up where they should not.

Inside, his old friend seemed quite pleased to see him. Though, as usual, his countenance did not express much of that pleasure. His long black hair covered in streaks of red gave him quite the sharp look, as did his red eyebrows, and Amynn was most likely the only one who could hold his gaze without flinching. At least, he liked to think so. 

The red facial hair covering the sides of his face highlighted just how sharp the features of his face were. Amynn could swear he wore it that way on purpose. It didn't help that his eyes were orange - the man was built to intimidate, designed to cut with a glance. 

Good thing he was simply looking out the window sipping on juice. That is the mark of a good man! One that has a sharp gaze, but does not point it towards his poor brother.

And so a  lone black car rumbles along a deserted autobahn, headlights trailing along black asphalt and white strips surrounded by cold blue lights. 

--

The deep rumble of the engine chased away the silence nesting in the dimly-lit cabin, the two men inside unable to tell what was going on in the world outside of it. The vibration of the car underneath their bodies was a constant thing- though coupled with the way the air cool air from above them ruffled their hair this turned out to be a rather quaint atmosphere. The engine had a nice constant hum, too, though it was barely audible at all. Amynn preferred sexy rumbling engines to be louder.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Their bodies were pulled forward when the vehicle abruptly braked, letting spill the drink the red-haired man was holding onto the white fabric of his suit - now it looked as though he had been stabbed on the left side of his chest. He did not seem too pleased about it judging from the way he squinted for a split second.

"Ignoring that," He stated, looking out the window, only his hair facing his friend whilst his hand patted the suit idly, "Is everything ready?"

"Are we ever unprepared, Aleksandr?" Came the reply.

"Fair enough," The gravelly voice replied. He had the deeper voice of the two, one that meant business, yet would still sound good reading someone bed-time stories or erotica, "They seem to be making this quite fancy. All the better for us, isn't it?"

Their bodies pushed back against the seats as the engine rumbled angrily at his reply. It seemed the car had begun moving along again, the little bastard.

"Yep, it'll make all this even better." Amynn said after a pause, watching his friend raise the jade cup to his lips, "They aren't paranoid enough. We can talk freely here in the back, and they can't hear a darned thing. I love that about Damian, he does not consider us to be actual threats."

"Anyone who knows you well would know you keep at least ten cards up your sleeve." Aleksandr said, his face finally turning to face Amynn, the dim yellow light highlighting the two scars running across his cheeks. 

"Only you know me well"  he replied, "..and Reyne."

The utterance of that name made a hint of melancholy appear on his face, but it was quickly turned away towards the window. The two men did not speak much after that for quite some time. Time passed slowly during such an eventful ride, however, and Aleksandr's voice could be heard again, "Got anything on your mind in particular?"

Amynn friend replied wistfully, "Just a woman." He replied, "And my wife this country, of course. It will be quite chaotic after this.. it is my sincere hope that things go as planned.. chaos is unreliable, after all."

The vehicle came to a sudden stop, cold air flying towards the men as its thick doors opened. Misty morning air rushed in, and so did the warmth of the hundred thousand people outside who cheered and waved their little placards at the vehicle, the noise slamming right into the two men and sending the scent of the morning flying in the oppossite direction.

Amynn had already turned to get out, his feet resting on the cement, when he heard Aleksandr who was already out of the car speak an utterance that he remembered well from the times they spent watching old TV shows and playing video games.

"Chaos is a laddah." He spake, already having his mask of aristocratic stoicism on as the Emperor's black-and-gold dogs flanked him, "Let whoever climbs it keep what lay above."

Then Amynn donned his air of calm along with that mask he was used to wearing - that charming smile. "A laddah" he muttered to himself, "Your references never stop coming, do they?"

The roars of the crowds gathering around drowned out whatever else he was muttering with that grin plastered across his face. 

--