The Almighty Dominance

Chapter 420

Alfred Kingston was inside his mansion when the alarm ripped through the halls. "What the hell is happening?" he muttered.

He rushed to the window and saw the nightmare outside-hundreds of people swarming the gate, pounding and tearing at the iron bars as if they meant to rip the estate apart.

Inside, the mansion guards were already in position.

One squad crouched near the entry hall windows with machine guns leveled, sweat dripping down their brows as they waited for the order.

Their leader barked out, his voice sharp as steel:

"Don't you dare break that gate! Cross the line and we'll open fire!"

"You Kingston dog!" someone spat. "Can't you see he's killing us? Next he'll come for you and your whole family. How can you stand there and still back him?" The crowd roared back, unmoved by the warning.

Alfred snatched up his smartphone, desperate for answers. "Why the hell don't I know anything about this?"

But the screen mocked him-no signal, no service. Dead silence.

Then came the pounding at his study door, urgent and relentless.

"Enter," Alfred commanded.

His secretary burst in, breathless, pale, and trembling. "Sir, we have an emergency."

"What is it?"

"Our communications are down. Completely dead. But the rebels? Their channels are alive and organized. They're striking with precision-government offices, banks, politician mansion, military posts, you name it. Someone is orchestrating this."

The man's chest heaved as he spoke, his shirt clinging with sweat.

"I ran here straight from the streets. I saw it with my own eyes. All of Los Angeles

is burning. People everywhere are rioting, protesting, destroying everything in sight."

"General Mark... the High Judge... senators... they're gone. Cut down by rebel hands."

Alfred's jaw tightened. Something didn't add up.

"That's impossible. General Mark had a thousand trained soldiers, fully armed. And they were facing-what? A rabble of eight thousand homeless with nothing but empty hands? Together with at best, two hundred rebels?"

He shook his head, disbelief hardening his voice. "They couldn't have lost. Not like this."

The secretary's eyes widened with grim certainty.

"Sir, believe me. Those eight thousand weren't just homeless beggars. They had guns. Heavy weapons. And they've rallied ten, maybe twenty thousand more to join the chaos."

sent five hundred of their elite soldiers, mixed in with the crowd.

Are you telling me Vermont is behind this? Supplying weapons

secretary nodded. "The weapons came from them, smuggled

rage. "Vermont..." he

I

the crowd outside pounded harder at

'Man proposes, Heaven disposes.'

now. I need answers. Why is Vermont attacking us? This breaks

his voice. "All connections are

governor's secure line can't be cut,"

heel, marched back into his study, pulled open the

the signal locked in,

of faces filled the screen -

finally joins us. We tried calling you, but

didn't flinch. He'd weathered taunts from men twice her age. He kept his voice flat and diplomatic.

sharp as glass. "You accuse me without proof. Is your word evidence now? Show me actual proof,

behind attacks on Los Angeles, we won't stand by. You'll answer for

“And where's your proof, Governor Logan? Or should I believe every rumor that

had erased their

had only intelligence on the way - intercepted shipments, eyewitness reports - but nothing

who started this. If Vermont's behind it, this will get

help you to give you proof. See what's

recording cut through the silence-grainy, flat, unmistakable. Alfred's voice, crisp and coarse. "Go kill all the homeless. Get rid of the useless. Sell them to the rich. Tell

wavering line on the screen, the voice echoing through the dark feed. "I never said that," he

warmth. "I knew you'd say

a control, and

boots pounding the

in the dirt.

was dragged

screams tearing through the

speakers.

s

filled the frame, pressed close to the camera-eyes

from people

the governor of Los Angeles is ordering his own military to butcher

soldiers-General Mark's men-opened

tilt. He had locked the public lines. He had scrubbed his feeds. Somehow this

at your front gate, they're not

of the sort,”

you're talking about. That footage -where did you get

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