Collapse
Zachary Griffyn
It all felt a little too familiar. This feeling in my chest, the look in Hayden's eyes, the jewelry hung from everyone's necks that glistened from the chandelier light. All peaceful, with simple smiles that lacked any sincerity and champagne flutes that emptied themselves faster than they'd been picked up. Everything was faithless, a blissful deceit, and yet it remained familiar.
"You're not drinking?" Hayden places a hand on my shoulder, gaining my attention.
I shake my head in denial. I hadn't moved from my place at our table in the back of the banquet hall, that unlike the AFO one, which was warm with decor of plush velvety red and gold accents on every corner, this one was cold, a navy blue that appeared black and silver that seemed to chill you when you caught the reflection of your own eyes in the metal. This space was set up flashier than the AFO had been too. Instead of a simple stage that was hardly two steps above where others sat, this one held a theatrical stage that made you feel more important than you were when you stood on it. Hayden and I both believed that the Quarterly Balls at the AFO were all for show and entirely unnecessary. At least for those, there was a legitimate purpose for being there except bragging: we networked to get sponsors and spoke to other department heads freely about upcoming projects. Business was done. But DEFENSE commanders kept to themselves and their team of officers. The chatter that overwhelmed the room before any announcements were made was simply a team talking to itself.
"You're as annoyed as I am," I smirk, adjusting myself in the chair again to hopefully get comfortable.
She sits to flutes of champagne in front of us, taking a seat in the chair next to mine. "That's why I've already had six of these... Want to tell me what's going on? Are you more annoyed about the people here, or that they had one of these parties just to send us off?"
Ignoring her question and the alcohol she's set in front of me, I change the subject, "Wasn't Willow Saule supposed to speak half an hour ago?"
Our eyes both dart to the enormous silver clock that hangs on the opposite wall. It's six past seven.
The doors at the top of the stairs burst open, a resounding bang rippling through the room as they hit the wall. In limps Adamas Steele with a large laceration on his neck, button-up singed, and pant legs covered in what could only be ash and blood.
Silence is deafening as all eyes focus on the man who seems to be barely hanging onto his life above us. Hayden stands slowly, her hand on my shoulder for support as she does so. Then, he speaks, cracking and breaking as he swallows presumably the blood pouring into his throat from his neck wound.
"Traitor in the Leaders... The Union--the Union has collapsed."
Hayden begins to sprint up to him as fast as she can in her stilettos, the only one who can seem to move in this room. Everyone seems to snap out of their shock though, when Steele drops to his knees before falling face first onto the ground. It's then that a multitude of DEFENSE agents rush up to where he and Hayden are.
Sucking in a giant breath, I realize now why this whole event felt so familiar to me. I've lived this moment before: seeming to have everything and be so valuable to something you've been dying to be appreciated for, and then the whole thing caves in.
