Lt. Cardoso sagged wearily as he entered his office, rubbing his temples. Some days he really hated his job. Well, maybe hate was too strong a word. But he certainly found people exasperating.
Like those cruel parents of Astor's today. He just couldn't fathom how they could treat their own child with such coldness. The poor kid had been through hell already. He needed compassion, not further rejection.
Cardoso sighed, shuffling papers on his desk halfheartedly. He wished he could simply shield Astor and the other children from further harm. But the government saw them as potential assets or threats in this mystically changed world. And his superiors expected Cardoso to toe the line.
At least he had been able to reassure Astor and stand up to his parents a bit. Offer the boy some glimmer of human kindness in the face of such callousness. That was why Cardoso had joined the service in the first place - to help people. But some days the politics and bureaucracy wore him down.
A knock at his door interrupted his brooding. "Come in," Cardoso called wearily.
One of the young soldiers under his command entered and snapped a sharp salute. "Lieutenant, we've got those supplies inventoried you requested for the shelter."
Cardoso managed a tired smile. "Thank you, Private. I appreciate you staying late to help with that."
The soldier beamed at the praise before ducking back out. Cardoso's spirits lifted slightly. For every apathetic bureaucrat, there were good people just trying their best to assist others.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
He would cling to that knowledge during the difficult days. Focusing on those small acts of human decency was the only way to maintain hope through the darkness. Cardoso was reminded again why he had taken this job in the first place - not power or glory, but the chance to make a positive difference.
As long as he held onto that purpose, the frustrations were bearable. He would keep striving to bring light to those who needed it most.
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"This is ludicrous! The public has a right to know what happened in that town and to those soldiers who went into the portal!"
Reed paced back and forth in his editor's office, gesticulating angrily. His leads on the portal crisis kept getting stonewalled by tight-lipped government officials.
His editor, Janelle, leaned back with a weary sigh. "Believe me, I want answers too. But ranting at me won't get this story."
Reed deflated slightly, sinking into a chair across from her. "You're right, sorry. It's just so frustrating being shut down every way I turn."
Janelle nodded. "The government is clearly hellbent on controlling the narrative around these mystical events. Our job is to uncover the truth they want buried."
"Easier said than done," Reed grumbled. "They've restricted all access to the town of Ares and those soldiers. I can't even get past the front gates."
Janelle drummed her fingers on her desk thoughtfully. "We'll need to get creative then. Dig for leaks, alternative sources on the ground, anything to circumvent the official roadblocks."
She fixed Reed with a stern look. "Whatever really happened out there, families lost loved ones and entire lives were upended. They deserve to have their stories told."
Reed sat up straighter, a familiar fire of determination reigniting. "You're absolutely right. I won't let all those people suffer in silence while the government covers its ass."
Janelle nodded approvingly. "Glad to see you getting your fight back. Now go out there and get me something we can print. The truth wants to be free, we just need to coax it out."
Reed stood to leave, his steps energized with renewed purpose. He had signed on as a reporter to speak truth to power, not regurgitate official propaganda. Somehow, someway, he would pry this story open for the public. The forgotten voices of Ares deserved to be heard.