The Almighty Dominance

General Mark sat in the temporary command room overlooking Los Angeles, certain the night would end without trouble.

He had a thousand soldiers under his command. The rebels? Maybe two or three hundred.

Their target was eight thousand ragged, starving people scattered across the streets-bodies thin, hungry, and unarmed.

To Mark, they were nothing. A thousand rifles would erase them easily.

"Hey—what's happening? Our link's gone!" one of the comms men suddenly shouted.

Another soldier raised his head, pale. "Same here, sir. We're dead on this side too."

"Is the L.A. communications team taking our connection down too?" Mark's voice cut through the room.

"Get someone over there now. Tell them to bring the feed back online."

As the soldier hurried out, Mark waved his hand. "We still have military landlines and radios. Bring them up for now."

The man on radio duty worked the controls. "Sir, the frequencies are jammed— we're getting nothing."

General Mark yawned, "Don't worry. Our soldiers won't lose to the homeless just because we lost communications. They need to learn responsibility too."

He straightened his uniform, more for show than comfort. "I'm going out for some air. Call me if the lines return."

"Yes, General." The salute snapped, nervous.

"Come with me," Mark said, gripping the secretary at his elbow in a public, possessive gesture as he walked out.

"After this is over, I want to enjoy myself. You ready with what I asked for?"

The secretary smiled, "Yes, sir. I selected twenty young women, all ready. I'll have them at your mansion by tomorrow."

"Perfect. Since Alfred Kingston is Governor, life's become heaven," Mark laughed, a bitter, greedy sound.

Outside the base, a sniper watched the compound from a shadowed rooftop. His scope tracked General Mark's movements.

"Report," he whispered into his throat mic. "I have a clear view of General Mark as he walks out. Request permission to engage."

At the command console, one of Bella's secretaries leaned forward. "Miss Governor, we have visual. Do you authorize a take-down of General Mark?"

"Do it," Bella said without hesitation.

"Permission granted," the secretary confirmed into the sniper's net.

A single breath. A single pull.

The round sliced through the night wind and smashed into General Mark's skull.

He dropped at once-like a puppet with its strings severed.

The secretary shrieked, stumbling beside his body. She tried to lift him, but his head was half destroyed, blood pouring in rivers, soaking her hands, her dress, the floor.

Her scream tore upward, raw and wild, echoing into the dark sky.

Before death, all were the same. Power, rank, wealth-all of it was nothing but illusion.

"Command, this is Shadow One. Target neutralized. Mission successful. Over." "Copy that, Shadow One. Excellent work. Stand by for next tasking. We want eyes on the remaining military leadership. You are cleared to proceed at your discretion. Over."

Shadow One moving to secondary

the other streets, captains barked orders to soldiers to slaughter the poor, yet panic spread like

the homeless fought back-raw, furious, armed. The shock struck the soldiers like

had expected no resistance suddenly realized death was closer than they thought as bullets poured down on

could those who struggled just to find food now have guns and bullets in their

them all-forget about detaining!" a captain screamed, his voice snapping

a glint answered him: a round from a concealed

folded, eyes wide with

Eleven to Command: Captain neutralized. Casualty confirmed.

any additional captains or

remaining leaders and preparing

the city

comms dead, no one could shout a

facing the homeless-weak, worthless—and

themselves

their arrogance making it effortless for the

street, a massive crowd

the crowd, Vermont's elite soldiers in disguise

bank doors, cracking open the vault and passing out cash and

spread fast-Los Angeles turned inside

homes, stealing whatever they could

favors the elite," one protest leader barked. "He buried us in his courtroom. Tonight we take it

him head judge, money and power had

jolted awake at the sound of a gate being

hall and saw hundreds of faces forcing their way through the

he stammered, backing

he is." Ten hungry

people kicked at it again and again until

years behind bars, stepped through the splintered door, a gun clenched in

in prison for twenty years for a

for the rich. You burned my life down.

Carl begged, his

pistol barked. The sound cracked through marble and chandeliers. It wasn't elegant. It

city, the

the wealthy had stacked their laughter like armor-fell silent under the weight of the people they had

by the rich now flooded through velvet halls and silk

their

with rage

from the

are human, so are

looking for happiness-so

our numbers

different too.

fear death? So

there has never been any

another.

We fear each other.

of fear always says:

kill us, or we kill you—until nothing is

are born as

their wives, they killed another man's

their children,