The Almighty Dominance

Bella sat in the command room like a queen on a high throne.

Around her, twenty secretaries waited-each one a machine with a name and a job. Their eyes tracked every screen; their fingers hovered over keyboards.

They waited for Bella's next order.

"The Los Angeles internet is down," Bella said.

"Alfred ordered a blackout-no feeds, no leaks. He wants this city blind while he does what he's doing."

Outside the blackout, the military, police, and the truly connected elite still got updates through satellite links.

They weren't going blind. Only the masses were.

"I want every line severed. Cut the city off from the world-land, cellular, and satellite. Six hours. Absolute blackout."

She looked at two secretaries. "You two, make that happen?"

"Roger. We'll link to the hackers and fire up the jammers-sweep starts now," one replied immediate.

"Good." Bella nodded and the two moved to the console, fingers already dialing, voices already routing contacts.

"Last week we set the special comms for our people and the rebel leaders," Bella added.

"Keep that channel secure. We will move them to the target on my mark."

"We're linking with the rebels, Vermont's elite soldiers, the homeless leaders, LA gangsters, and VIPs," another five secretaries said as they slid into their stations and took over the logistics feed.

They were now responsible for every connection.

Bella began issuing orders-sharp and exact-directing thousands like a conductor bringing an orchestra to a single, brutal note.

Her commands were small, clean bullets: one instruction, then the next, no wasted breath.

The field answered in rhythm.

Up on a famous Los Angeles rooftop, a different kind of storm was unfolding.

LA's rich and bored gathered to watch the city burn. They stood with champagne, smoke and light painting their faces.

"This is the best party ever," one young adult shouted, voice thin with inherited arrogance, raising a glass.

"After this purge, Charles Kingston promised me fifty young women," another slurred, grinning like a wolf. "Imagine what we can do with that many."

"He promised me one hundred twenty strong people to play the life-and-death game," someone else said, eyes glittering with excitement.

could bet

a

harsh laugh cut

man said, voice flat with contempt. "Came from

another said, eyes cold. “I've heard he'd sell his only daughter for the

a slow smile. "No conscience, no restraint. We

the dark. Crowds shoved, screamed, fought, and killed—each

poured, music roared, and money kept the lights bright while the

the rooftop suddenly shouted,

a man frowned. "But that old greedy Kingston promised the feeds for us would

are cut too,"

barked, forcing a laugh that didn't reach his eyes.

dozen people carrying semi-automatic weapons pushed through the revolving

receptionist and servants rushed forward, faces tight with a welcome

lean maid cut through

the rooftop," she said, low

rebel leader nodded. Ten hotel security men, room boys, and kitchen hands fell

take them down. They started killing our people-now it's

weapons. "Fear not. After tonight,

into the elevator. The maid swiped her access card to

whispered

years. They get away with

The rebel leader

didn't believe in God nodded-because tonight there was no choice between faith and

voice low and raw, "in this

If we fall, welcome us home. If we

doors

ten hotel staffs burst out at once, rifles

roar, they pulled their

the penthouse, bullets hunting for souls as hot shells clattered across

only by

were still celebrating, drunk on

at the screams, at the moans, at the distant crack

the penthouse, cutting the

replaced by shrieking panic that echoed the chaos on the streets below.

fell mid-toast, beer spilling from their mouths and mixing with blood on the

the wounds, smearing their

invisible either. The poor had broken through, and now the rich

flesh, snapping bones, claiming life after life