Chapter 2
?The Accord of Shadows
[DATA: 29. CYCLE 8. YEAR 40 INDUSTRIAL]
[LOCATION: CAPITAL CITY BLIN – HOTEL LAFA]
[TIME: 02:15 LOCAL]
[STATUS: PERSONAL OBSERVATION AND ANALYSIS]
A night as cold as death itself had swathed the capital. Dark clouds, like a heavy sheet of lead, obstructed even the meager light offered by the moon. By night, Blin resembled a ghost city. Silence stretched through the narrow alleys, punctured only by the muffled voices emanating from nightclubs, where people shielded themselves from reality with alcohol and oblivion.
?In his room at Hotel LaFa, Halter stood before the window. The moon’s reflection upon the glass softened his gaze, rendering it almost melancholic. In his hands, he held a white handkerchief—a stark contrast to the room’s pervasive gloom.
?In the streets below, the silence shattered abruptly. The frantic footsteps and voices of individuals fleeing a military patrol reached his floor. A faint, cold smile surfaced on Halter’s face. It was as if he had been expecting them. He took up his black greatcoat, donned his boots, and adjusted his general’s cap. Before exiting, he retrieved an old manuscript—his silent blueprint.
?Outside, in the dim alleys of Blin, only Halter’s footsteps dared to defy the night. It was a rhythmic, merciless strike against the cobblestones. As he walked, his gaze lingered on the bodies of those sleeping in the streets and the drunks debating their own shadows.
This city is nearing its end, he thought, gripping the manuscript. I must accelerate the timeline, or every effort will be in vain.
If one looked at Blin beyond the false radiance of the center, the panorama was desolating. Cracked buildings standing by sheer miracle, nightclubs sprouting like poisonous fungi, and a populace that had long since surrendered the desire for a normal existence. The city had embraced its own demise.
?Halter took a few more steps before halting at the end of a dark alley. There, the rapid footsteps of those in flight grew louder. They were heading directly toward him.
?“Wait!” the first of them shouted, stopping dead as he discerned Halter’s motionless silhouette waiting in the heart of the darkness.
?Their eyes locked onto Halter. He stood unwavering, a black silhouette that only revealed its true form—the long, black coat—when he stepped into the moonlight.
?“You look like high-ranking brass,” the leader said, his voice failing to mask a tremor. “We don’t want to hurt you. Just clear the way.”
?Halter smiled thinly—a smile that never reached his eyes—and took two steps forward. His boots crunched against the damp cobblestones.
?“Stay right where you are! Don’t move!” another barked, clutching a rusted knife inside his pocket.
?“Calm yourselves. I have not come to obstruct you, but to offer something you cannot purchase at any price: an opportunity,” Halter said. His composure was more terrifying than any threat.
?Stunned silence took them all. They exchanged glances, uncertain if they were facing madness or a trap.
?“What kind of ‘help’ are you talking about? And who the hell are you?”
Halter closed the distance until he stood only centimeters away from their leader. The scent of the runner’s cheap tobacco collided with the sterile, cold scent of the General’s uniform.
?“I am General Halter. And I am aware that you are the ‘idealists’ behind that red square,” he paused, letting the words carry their full weight. “The assistance I am offering is priceless. I will provide you with the ordnance and the opportunity to assassinate Chancellor Hans.”
?Their eyes widened. Their faces, already pale from exhaustion, turned to wax.
?“Why would a high-ranking General want his own Chancellor dead?”
?“Let’s just say that while you are idealists, I am a visionary. And I see that the Chancellor is leading Geot into a dead end. He is an accident that must be rectified.”
?The leader—a youth named Peter, who looked barely twenty—stared at him with suspicion, though his heart hammered so violently it felt as if it would burst through his chest.
?“And you think we’ll just believe you? Do we look that ignorant to you?”
?Halter let out a thin laugh, a dry sound that dissipated against the alley walls. Without delay, he produced several documents from his coat.
?“I anticipated that response. Hence, the proof.”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
?“What are these?” Peter asked, eyeing the papers that fluttered in the light breeze under the moon.
?“This is our accord. A contract signed with the future blood of a tyrant. A blueprint for the elimination of Hans.”
?Peter was bewildered. His hands trembled as he touched the heavy, official stationery.
?“Is this some kind of foul play? A way to round us all up?”
?“I have no need for games to capture you, Mr. Peter. If I desired it, this district would be surrounded by my tanks within ten minutes. You are the only ones who can approach the Chancellor without drawing scrutiny. You are the ‘shadow’ I require.”
?Silence plunged the alley into stillness. From behind Peter, a muffled voice spoke:
“Hey, Peter... this is the chance we’ve been waiting for. Don’t waste it.”
?Peter let out a heavy breath and looked directly at Halter.
“Very well, General. We have an accord.”
?Halter’s smile widened. He pulled out a heavy pen and extended it.
“Sign here, Mr. Peter.”
?While Peter signed with a hand shaking from a mix of fear and hope, Halter’s hand holding the document was steady—cold as the marble of a tomb. Once the signatures were fixed, Halter partitioned the documents. He tucked one part into his inner pocket and left the other with Peter.
?“Excellent. What now? What is the plan?” Peter asked, clutching the papers to his chest like the last treasure on earth.
?“We will meet here for the operational details in exactly three weeks, upon my return from the Bratan mission.”
?Halter stepped through them. The strike of his metallic boots against the stones felt like a countdown. After he had moved a few paces away, Peter turned and called out:
“How do we know you’ll come back alive?”
?Halter did not turn. He chuckled silently and gave a curt reply:
“First, I cannot lose a war I have already won before it even began. Second, Hans will deliver a grand speech celebrating my victory. That is how you will know I have returned.”
?The General continued toward the hotel without looking back. His hand, buried in his pocket, brushed against the white handkerchief. A faint smile remained on his face as he contemplated how he was positioning the pieces on his chessboard.
[DATA: 29, CYCLE 8]
[LOCATION: CAPITAL CITY BLIN – HOTEL LAFA]
[TIME: 03:10 LOCAL]
[STATUS: FORMULATION OF THE NEW MANIFESTO]
Halter returned to the room with the same unwavering cadence. He stripped off his heavy greatcoat and cap, leaving them atop the leather chair. The room was submerged in darkness, save for the faint streetglow visiting the ceiling.
?He produced his copy of the document. Peter’s signature was erratic, the ink slightly bled from the tremor in his hands.
“Hope is a narcotic for small men,” he thought, folding the paper with surgical precision. “Peter believes he is liberating the nation from a dictator. He fails to comprehend that I am merely clearing the path for a new order.”
He seated himself at the desk. With one hand, he brushed the white handkerchief at the corner of the table; with the other, he unsheathed his pen. His eyes focused on a thick ledger, nearly five hundred pages deep. With a hand that had never known doubt, he began drafting the initial pages of what would become his “Bible”:
Man is not born free; he is born as a variable in an equation he cannot fathom. Freedom only begins when one realizes they are a component of the machine. Utilize man’s freedom as a weapon against him.
Outside, a gale lashed bare branches against the glass, but Halter did not turn. He had initiated his true war. Bratan was merely a distant detonation; the manuscript on his desk was the earthquake that would shatter the old world.
[DATA: 29, CYCLE 8]
[LOCATION: MILITARY BASE SECTOR-7, BLIN]
[TIME: 05:45 LOCAL]
[STATUS: OPERATIONAL BRIEFING: “ASH CYCLE”]
The grim silence of the morning was shattered by the only noise that dared to traverse the city streets so early: General Halter’s vehicle. The sun had yet to rise, but the General was ready.
?When the vehicle arrived, he boarded without wasting a single second.
“You are late,” Halter’s voice drifted from the darkness of the rear seat.
?The driver swallowed hard, his voice trembling with exhaustion and fear.
“My apologies, General. I had to tend to the children’s rations... my wife is in the hospital.”
?Halter did not respond. Not out of pity, but because he considered any word spent on individual fates a waste of time in the progress of history. He continued to stare out the window. By the time they reached the base, the sun was ascending, illuminating the city’s gloom with a frigid light.
?The soldiers fell into formation immediately. The strike of his metallic boots against the asphalt was like a blade cutting through the air. He entered the map room where officers stood at attention, signaling their respect. Without a single word of courtesy, Halter unfurled the map on the wall.
?“Gentlemen, listen closely,” he began with a calm that chilled the blood. “A single error, and you are relieved of duty.”
?The silence in the hall became absolute.
?“We will initiate a blitz strike toward Thira. We will neutralize the ports and isolate the Bratan troops in Byg. Once they are depleted of ordnance and starving, we will execute phase two: a massive aerial bombardment followed by PaH 2000 heavy artillery. To terminate all remaining resistance, we will deploy mustard gas. We will eradicate everything that breathes on that front.”
?Horror was mirrored in the eyes of the officers. Even by their standards, this was pure brutality.
?“General,” one officer ventured, “is heavy artillery and gas truly necessary? It seems like a strategic overkill...”
?Halter fixed him with eyes as cold as ice. He took a deep breath and spoke with a voice that left no room for debate:
?“If you do not wish to be the one dying, then you must be the one who kills first.”
?He donned his cap and headed for the door.
“Make ready. We depart immediately.”
