IN THE PRESENT

“Zorione Nergüi, you are accused of sedition and treason against the Executor Will of the Republic. The Fate of the Republic will now render it’s sentence.”

Above my head, a holographic screen shows the face of the second-in-command of the Fate before it pans over to the Executor Fate himself, Aitor Verdugo.

He is an imposing man with piercing green eyes and a salt and pepper beard. His eyebrows are dark slashes pointing down to his nose and anger resonates off of him in waves. He is disappointed in me, in what I’ve become. I did not live up to his expectations or even my own, for that matter. I know I should feel shame but I can’t find it in myself.

To his left is another familiar face and it tears my heart in two to see him standing there, staring off into the distance as if it isn’t his baby sister who is about to die.

Beñat.

I want to scream his name just so he will look at me, at least once more before I die. But his name stays on the tip of my tongue, my mouth closed. He cannot help me even if he wanted to.

“Zorione Nergui. By the power of Fate and on behalf of the Will and the Might, I sentence you to death.”

I straighten up as much as possible with my arms tied behind me and secured to my ankles. I want to look defiant before I die. I won’t let him see me weak. I won’t let him know just how afraid I am.

Even from this distance, I am sure the Executor's gaze meets mine. I tell myself not to look away, to stare at him as I die, but my eyes flicker over to Beñat again wondering if he will acknowledge me now that it's certain.

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Deep down, is he sad to see my life end like this? Beñat looks so much like Father. His dark golden hair is cropped short and he cuts an imposing figure in his Fate Guard uniform. I can’t see his eyes from here but I’m sure the warmth in those brown eyes has gone cold.

I take a deep breath and wait for it to end....and wait ...and keep waiting for what seems a bit too long. I look back at the Executor Fate and see his eyes are fixed at something behind me.

I twist to the side to see my would-be executioner is also staring at something I can’t see because his large square body is blocking it completely.

But as he turns and runs past me, it becomes clear that while I may not die at his hand, it is certain I will die today.

The stadium clears as people rush in the opposite direction of the churning pale blue fog. It billows over the top of the amphitheater and rolls down the seats and onto the field where my platform is hovering.

I swing my head back around to find one of the leader’s of the Republic is gone. The Fate higher-ups and my brother aren’t here to see me die after all.

“Figures.” I mutter to myself, looking back at the fog. I’m surprised that it's made it this far into the city. Usually the filtration systems on the outskirts of Capital City keep it away.

No one can survive long inside the fog. You usually suffocate before you can find a way out of the disorienting haze.

I brace myself as the wave is about to crash over me when I see something odd. A group of figures are moving through the fog in my direction.

How are they doing that?

Only Might soldiers are allowed regular use of the portable air filtration systems needed to survive in the fog.

I cough, my lungs rejecting the poisoned air as it envelops me. This is not how I imagined dying today. My eyes tear up and I try to blink away the moisture but my vision grows dim.

Damn...this really sucks.

For some reason, what’s on my mind and presumably the last thing I will ever think about, is the night my parents left.