“Fellow citizens of the United States of the North,” Julius declared. “I speak to you, not as Lieutenant, but as one of you. For I am one of you. I feel your pain, as I have been hurt. As every Natural and Impure whose life was irreparably affected in the blast. For each and every single one of you, Natural, Impure, Esne, Tussenvolk, Fengel, Achroite, is a vital constituent of this state.”

Almyra sneered. “If he were in Zielkkenhom’s place, he would have slaughtered them all,” she said. “Right now a team of specialists is modulating his voice so it sounds deeper than usual.”

“And with more gravitas,” I said. But you could not fake gravitas.

“However, this pain, our pain,” Julius stated. “Shall not impede me from bringing to justice those who must be punished, from providing peace, stability, and social cohesion to our great nation. For it is only through peace, through swift justice, that this great nation of ours shall prosper. For justice, peace, equality, rest as the foundations of our nation.”

The Impures cheered as if Julius was their savior, telling people what they wanted to hear, to twist their hearts. But what ripped my heart right out, shot a gravity pulse at my chest, was that the Naturals were listening. The Naturals, those who had given me their last vote of confidence, those who claimed to believe in God, those who claimed to follow Jesus, gazed at Julius as if he were St. Paul, or, more likely, Luther. And even I could not speak when he spoke, not because the modulations, though that helped, but because he actually believed his words. And sounded true. Even though they were lies.

“We survived certain collapse before,” he declared. “And we shall do so again, because you are strong, because you are valorous, because we are one. We are one nation, together, fighting, longing, for unity, peace, stability, and social cohesion. Which we have achieved, though we are not still a perfect union.”

The Naturals leaned ahead, almost as if they wanted to grab Julius’ hand and plead for his help. As if only a graze of his clothes sufficed, as if only a graze of his shirt would heal you. I supposed evil guised itself as light. Light that blinded. Until you couldn’t see. And plummeted to the endless abyss from which there’s no going back. But how could the Naturals fall for his lies? Just because he made good speeches?

I glanced at Almyra, her eyes, as barrens on which forests used to lie, as streams through which rapids used to flow. Almost as if she wanted to reach out to the Naturals, hug them, and say to them that he’s lying. But then whom would they follow? Did she want the Naturals to acquiesce to Bernhart? Was her father planning a coup or something?

“And we shall not achieve perfect unity, peace, until we eradicate the pests that claw at us from the inside, gnaw at our organs, until we lay on a hospital bed, unconscious, ready to die, and with no power to defend ourselves,” Julius declared.

His modulated voice seemed like a whisper due to the cheering and clapping that sprang forth where he delivered the press conference. And from the Impures right next to me. And some Naturals. Even they had started cheering. A flame axe to my soul. Because the responsibility lay not on Naturals, mostly, but on him, for lying to them, to the Impures, to everyone. But at least my God-given voice was deeper than his especially modulated one. A chuckle in an ocean of tears that had not been cried, of blood that had not yet been shed, of ice that had not yet melted.

“So we shall act now, my fellow friends,” Julius said. “Here is evidence that Class B –bridger Samuel Gieves acted jointly with the terrorist group known as the Society of Harmonious Friends United in Constitutional Righteousness in setting up the blasts that injured dozens in our Square, in bombing themselves into oblivion, in cheering as our blood spilled.”

“His blood crystallizes just like any Achroite’s does,” Almyra muttered. “So what is that idiot talking about?”

And then a video emerged. Of the Harmonists, passing as Almyra’s bodyguards, blowing themselves up. But something else was shown. Something I did not think of seeing. Ever. Because I did not think him capable. I knew of his past, but to come to that extreme?

It showed Samuel hurling something at the floor just before the blasts exploded. And then carrying what looked like a body bag in the midst of the chaos. An ice blade sliced my veins that a flame one then melted. A gravity blast exploded in my chest, which blazes then composed. I had vouched for his innocence. And he was guilty? He could not be. He could not. He was innocent. So was Mildred. The gravels barreled my mind as bullets. Bullets that I could not dodge, despite the slowness. Bullets that would not kill me, despite the pain.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

“At least the Harmonists had the decency to kill themselves in the process,” Julius said. “But Natural Samuel Gieves had not. Because he murdered his wife. And was in need of disposing of the body before the authorities arrived, before we arrived and put him through justice. Executed him for his crimes against collaborators of our great nation, as you all are.”

“Are you still in belief of that disfigured savage’s innocence?” Almyra asked, hoping I said I was not.

But I almost did not hear her. And I did not want to betray the only surviving member of the family who had saved ours. I wanted to believe he was innocent, but my mind told me otherwise. My brain. They all cannoned at me. Guilty. He’s guilty. He killed Mildred. You’re protecting a wife killer, a domestic abuser. You’re horrible for siding with a criminal. You should go to prison as well. You have Gieves Syndrome. And you’re insane. Like Samuel’s father. You always loathed—

“Are you alright, Cael? Your eyes …”

Almyra looked as if as sleet burst in her eyes, as frozen snow crystals. Even more frightened than when her bodyguards were going to hurl her at the abyss.

I held her hand. “It’s nothing, Almyra, don’t worry.” A third blast—well, not technically a blast, but a tug—to my heart. Because I had her for a selfish brat. But she cared about me. And others. Or at least I hoped she did. Because if not, her lies were better than Julius’ ones. But when I said I trust her, I meant it. And it hit me. “I still think Samuel’s innocent, Almyra,” I said. “I trusted you, when I had no reason to. Grant him the same favor, please. If you knew what he’s gone through, you’d … you wouldn’t be calling him a disfigured savage.”

“But the video …” She took a deep breath. “One last chance, Cael.”

I hugged her.

But almost as if Julius was watching us, and perhaps he was, with all the cameras, he raised his voice to the point that it sounded louder than thunder. “So President Fain, in coordination with his Cabinet, and Congress, has decided:

“One: to cede Samuel Gieves’ district to bridger Cael Cavanaugh’s one, which shall now house a new branch of the Zielkkenhom Foundation. And shall have its population quota increased, though only to house Impures. We plan on making that portion of the district a Tower outside of the Zielkkenhom Towers. Pure Victorian.”

A blizzard sleeted my nerves. Until I could not feel a thing.

“Two: all other districts in the capital shall have their quotas minimized.” Julius could not hide his sneer. “And as punishment, for the Harmonists are mostly comprised of Impures, the Impures and Naturals who lived in Samuel Gieves’ autonomous city shall be relocated to the nearest Quarter.”

The official name of the Zielkkenhomvilles.

“This is an official gramercy to natural Cael Cavanaugh,” Julius said. “Who single-handedly saved Almyra Bernhart. Chose her over the Naturals. Who has been a fine collaborator for us. So we expect all of you to cheer him, to root for him, as he receives his Honorary Achroite Award from the Chairman himself.

“We shall even grant Cael Cavanaugh’s Autonomous City the food and water earmarked for the other Autonomous Cities and Quarters so he feeds his new Enhanced population.”

I did not look at the crowds. My imagination sufficed.

“So, Natural Cael Cavanaugh,” Julius declared, trying to hide his sneer. “From the Chairman’s heart, I congratulate you, for your service and goodwill to the Achroites, to the Zielkkenhom Foundation, to Almyra Bernhart, to our great nation.” He scoffed. Did not even try to hide it. “May you succeed in all your endeavors, Cael Cavanaugh.

“That is all for now, my fellow friends, so remember to denounce any suspicious activity involving the Harmonists, denounce your neighbors. The true heroes are those whose vigilant eyes prevent trouble, so we act instead of react, and you assist us all in our fight against those who would bring us down.”

I knew exactly what that idiot was doing. Pitting the Naturals against Almyra and me. Their death glares said it all. I guessed Julius wasn’t really trying to get the Naturals to support him, unless that was his original plan but let his feelings of vengeance and inferiority overtake him. Zielkkenhom was calm and composed. Wouldn’t have let something as petty as online taunts derail his agenda. But Julius Nabritt was no Zielkkenhom. For better or for worse.

“And remember also to thank Cael Cavanaugh,” Julius said. “For this would not have happened without him. Goodbye, my fellow friends.”

Wretched Nabritt bastard.

----------------------------------------

Hi, my fellow bridgers! Thank you so much for reading The Last God. It means a lot to me that you took time to read my story. Being able to share this story with others has been an amazing experience.

I will appreciate your comments and reviews because my work is intended for you. I invite you to share this experience in social media through the links below. Every single review or share matters.

Thanks again for reading. May God bless you. Have a great day!