do·min·ion : noun : \də-ˈmi-nyən\ : the power to rule
Chapter One: And 3 Eight-Balls Makes 24
25 years ago GOD disappeared. HIS angels held man responsible and declared war on humanity. The archangel Gabriel led this war of extermination hoping to rid the world of humans and claim dominion over it. Some higher angels refused to take sides, but the lower angels joined Gabriel. These lesser spirits lacked bodies so their first line of attack was to steal ours, but Michael – the greatest of all archangels – chose to fight for man. With his help, the survivors struck back and built strongholds to defend themselves. Soon word spread of a baby Michael had saved; a child who would grow up to be mankind's savior. On the child's 25th birthday the true Savior would then emerge and be blessed with the knowledge and power needed to end the ruthless war. This chosen one would be known by the markings on its body – twisting tattoos revealing the way. Finally Gabriel and his army retreated and we were left with the realization: that not only are angels real, they are our most hated enemies.
Saturday, April 9th, 2044
Alexandra Lannon could never have foretold that the events that were about to unfold would change her life forever. The days to her passed uneventful enough, but that is the funny thing about life-altering moments: the day before your life changes feels just like any other day. This particular day, however, found Alex still safely nestled in her normal life, no matter how comical that might seem.
Alex was spending her day in an abandoned casino. Walking over filthy, overturned chairs, tables, and bits of rock she uncovered a busted up sports utility vehicle being concealed by a dusty, old, canvas cloth. Opening up the back hatch she took off her backpack and began removing various supplies and sorting them into their places in the back seat. Grabbing her automated firing weapon she was ready to return to the driver's seat and drive away when she heard noises in the distance.
'Leave it…just leave it Alex,' she thought to herself. Going against her better judgment, though, she left her car, slamming the back hatch door shut and went through the maze of debris to investigate what she had heard. With her gun aimed and at the ready she cautiously trekked through the forgotten halls of the former gambling palace. Peeking around a corner with her flashlight illuminating the way she then found the source of the clatter from earlier.
"Shit!" Alex whispered, as she spotted three eight-balls surrounding a card-playing table. One was a slutty dressed female with a golden strapless brazier on, leaning against the bar; another, a large rough and tough male seated with a green army jacket on; lastly an oversized female with dark and dirty hair, a blue blouse, and more than ill-fitted pair of pants on behind the counter as if dealing out their little game. Alex backed away slowly so as not to draw attention to herself.
*CRUNCH*
'Fuck me!' Alex internally berated as she realized she had stepped on a ditched drinking glass lying on the floor. The sound of the shattered glass beneath her foot was loud enough to rouse the attention of the three nearby eight-balls. They all turned to face her. The possessed man paused and stared his dark eyes deep into Alex's soul. It made Alex's skin crawl.
"Join us," the dealer called to her in a wheezy, disturbing voice that could haunt even a soldier's dreams. "We have an empty seat."
Alex didn't hesitate and shot the blonde stone dead with a kill shot strategically placed right between the eyes. The male forcefully left his chair to purposefully march towards Alex, while the large woman in the disgusting khaki pants chose to instead flip the entire table across the room with her incredible strength. She leapt across the deserted gambling hall and crawled along the wall to pursue the human who had just murdered their eight-ball companion.
Alex broke out into a run, turning her back on the hunters, pumping her legs forcefully so as to return to her military grade tank of a truck parked outside on the street in the bright, Arizona sunlight. Both eight-balls continued their pursuit as Alex drove away, turning to look through the back window and spotted the male eight-ball sprout wings. Pulling out of the parking lot and racing onto the main strip of highway leading back to Vega, Alex retrieved her walkie-talkie from its designated pouch on her person and called out for help.
"A. Lannon. Pass code two-two-seven-one. Open the gates!"
No reply.
"This is Alex Lannon. Pass code two-two-seven-one. Respond!" Alex looked back into the rearview mirror and could not see the female eight-ball anymore, but the winged fiend continued its pursuit. "A. Lannon. Pass code two-two-seven-one. I've got an angel in pursuit!"
Still nothing.
"My god, open the gates! Where the hell are you guys?" Alex wondered to herself that – yeah – maybe the guards would be pissed off at her the leaving, but that sure as hell wasn't reason enough to leave her high and dry. Alex pulled up her screen located on the dashboard to ensure a clean connection to the security headquarters beyond the city walls and sure enough there showed the radar, her car about to breach the set border, and her designation listed on the screen.
Alexandra Lannon. Security Access : 2-2-7-1. AA Corps. V2.
The male eight-ball caught up to Alex's truck and latched himself firmly onto the left side of the car. Rearing its fist back the angel broke the glass in on Alex, forcing her to lose control of the wheel. Alex raised her left arm to shield her eyes from the onslaught of shards now entering the van while her right hand reached to grab her handgun. She futilely raised it to blast the creature away from the remains of the shattered window, but the angel had already forced half of its torso through the hole and knocked the weapon from her hand. The eight-ball's super-strength allowed him to easily overpower Alex and with no hands on the wheel the car swerved and popped over the median onto the other side of the road.
'Be cool, Alex. Think yourself out of this one,' she reminded herself, trying to remember her training. With her right hand free of the gun – for better or for worse – she wound up and socked the beast clean on the nose. It hurt like hell, but caused the angel to become disoriented and lose its grasp.
"Ha ha!" Alex exclaimed out loud. Now having no grip on the locked, outer door handle the eight-ball whipped itself forward onto the hood of the car with the aid of its massive wingspan. "Great! Now I can't see."
Alex gripped the wheel and righted the vehicle to keep from running off the road, and stretched her arm out to grab the speaker phone wired into the dashboard and called out for help this time on the CB radio channel.
"A! Lannon! Pass code: Two Two Sev – " Alex couldn't finish because the eight-ball had broken through the front windshield, extending its long barbed tongue through the shattered glass to attack Alex's face. "Eww! What the fuck?"
Alex would have to find out later that the barbs had left their fair share of cuts on her face, but for the time being she firmly placed both hands on the steering wheel and tried to shake the abomination from the hood. Whipping the car both left and right she was running out of ideas and stretches of road leading into the city of Vega. The eight-ball cocked its head back and spat on Alex nailing her on the side of her eye.
"Alright! Enough of this shit," Alex exclaimed and reached behind her for the safety belt, drew it across her body, fit it into the latch, and slammed her foot clear to the metal floor of the car. The vehicle accelerated forward beyond its usual speed, lurching along the road, slicing through the hot, thick air of the desert. Although she secretly loved the thrill of the speed, Alex knew she must be getting close to the wall. The excitement of the ride reminded her of her former, reckless driving days when she would find rare happiness in her life by just driving around in the abandoned neighborhoods of the previously glorious city of Las Vegas.
Adjusting her foothold on the pedal, Alex slammed her left foot onto the brake the exact moment she lifted her right and the car skidded to a halt. She had successfully shaken the eight-ball loose from the hood and he flew backwards crashing into the massive steel wall. Alex could have sworn she heard a sickening crunch as the angel's full weight landed against its right wing. The eight-ball made eye contact with her for the second time that day and Alex saw something in his eyes that she couldn't quite identify. It wasn't quite fear, and it wasn't quite anger. It almost seemed like desire, but desire for what?
Just as soon as the moment came it was gone and the angel tried to pull itself out of its disorientation and start to fly upward, despite its wonky fly pattern courtesy of the damaged wing. While the creature reached for safety in the sky Alex retrieved her old double-a-twelve automatic shotgun she kept hidden under the passenger side seat and crawled through the busted forward facing windshield. Turning onto her back, Alex squinted in the blazing sun, closed one eye, raised the firearm, and released hellfire on the damned creature hoping that she would successfully blast the shit out of it.
Alex could almost hear the blood splat – although it might have just been her imagination – as the ammunition lodged itself home in the various parts of the eight-ball's body and like an unholy baby being sent to earth from an evil stork the angel fell out of the sky. Alex couldn't have found the time to rejoice even if she wanted to because the body was then plummeting right for her and where she lay. She rolled off of the hood onto the dusty ground just in time to hear the disgusting cracking of bone and sizzle of flesh as it landed onto the overheated metal of the car.
Not taking any chances Alex lifted her gun and fired another ten rounds or so of the gun's firing stock directly into the chest and forehead of the eight-ball. Once satisfied with her work Alex grabbed the eight-ball by the collar, hoisting it from the hood down onto the hot, sun-beaten ground where it fell into a pathetic crumple of wasted blood, guts, and sweat. Kicking the corpse over with her boot to roll the angel flat out Alex bent over the torso to examine her handiwork and spat a thick mucus-filled lugie square into the black eye of the eight-ball, skipping over that other one seeing as how it had a bullet lodged into the cavity.
"Hmm… Did better than I thought," Alex rewarded herself, turning around at the sound of the massive steel door opening. Soldiers with guns high at the ready carefully stepped out onto the desert floor and made their way towards Alex. "Aw, thank guys, but I already got him."
Alex sniggered at her own joke, slapping the back of the nearest guard and then reached through the busted driver's side window, pulled the lock up, and returned to the driver's seat. Replacing the AA-12 back under the passenger side seat she applied some pressure to the pedal and drove the Humvee slowly through the massive door's entrance watching as the somewhat shocked soldiers who remained in her way backed up to clear a path for the vehicle. It was then that she realized she had probably done a pretty bang-up job to the transmission with that little stunt of hers from earlier. That wouldn't win her any points with the mechanic who would have to log some overtime to fix that mess.
Once fully inside the gates the alarms signaling the closing of the door behind her seemed louder than ever. She could hear the female, computer-generated, lifeless voice announce over the intercom, "Now entering Security Zone 5. Now entering Security Zone 5." With the massive thud the metal gates met concrete behind her and the alarms ceased. Alex was then ripped out of the truck and brought to a standing position in front of multiple guards in sets of faded green uniforms, unlike the dusty blue of her own apparel.
"Alright already; easy, easy," Alex coaxed to the security team now manhandling her. "Yeah, okay, I got it!" Alex was then forced up against the car. She reached out her palms forward to keep her face from being bashed into the side of the vehicle as she felt a cool tickle of a bent, black rod be forced around the back half of her neck. Oh, how she hated things or people touching her neck.
The device beeped finding her heat signal and pulse sufficient when she was then brought to face a new mechanical contraption that was being held by a cute soldier about six inches taller than herself. He slowly lowered the screen over her face as the red scanning line, that reminded her of the barcode scans she would place hands over in supermarkets when she was small to keep the item from being registered, crossed her forehead and further down towards her neck. "If you want to know what color my eyes are big boy, just ask," Alex jested with a wink, thus causing the device to angrily beep, not receiving the intended reading. The guard behind Alex shook her up, reprimanding her with a soft explicative and a rather rude request for her to shut-up, but Alex could've sworn the man in front of her cracked just a hint of a smile.
To ensure a clean reading this time – because if it wasn't clean the second time, Alex didn't want to think of what those guns could do to her, much like her gun did to the earlier 8-ball – Alex stood up straight and widened her eyes just slightly as the device announced "Possession Negative" and powered itself down. The cute soldier walked back to his post as Alex heard a man's irritated voice call to her, "Lannon!"
'Oh shit, not this prick again,' Alex hoped to herself, coming face to face with one of the head security generals, Alistair Black.
"What the hell were you doing outside of the city without authorization?" Black spat at her.
"It was two for one buffet night at the Flamingo and I just couldn't resist." Alistair grabbed at the collar of her uniform as the gruff soldier behind her not-too-kindly kicked the curve of her left knee in, causing her to sink a few inches and become off-balance. "What do you think I was doing?" Alex asked incredulously. "You saw the eight-ball I just shot down. And that wasn't the only one; there was a whole pack of them out there. We need to tell Riesen."
"No," Black thought to himself for a moment. "Take her to the Archangel. She's one of his soldiers. I'll report to Riesen."
"But, sir, all of the vehicles are out on patrol right now preparing for the Helena arrivals tomorrow and the earliest won't be back until midnight," the soldier who had just kicked Alex complained.
"Take this junker then," Black commanded nodding towards the overheated armored car. Alex laughed to herself and smirked at the ground. "Something funny, Lannon?"
"No, nothing funny at all, sir, if you intend on pushing this bunch of bolts all the way to the AA headquarters downtown," Alex shot back. The way she saw it: she was already in trouble and it's not like this prick could do anything to add to her suffering.
"Hmm, well lucky for you then, we have a lovely little holding cell we can stick you in until a more accommodating luxury car can arrive for you," Black said over his shoulder already on his way out.
"Oh man!" Alex grumbled aloud to anyone who would listen. Maybe she was wrong and this jerk could add to her suffering, but it didn't matter seeing as how she was already being led away.
The Stratosphere Hotel and Casino may not have been making money for decades, or really be doing any human in the city much good other than serving as a great landmark for trying to get somewhere in the city of Vega, but to the Archangel Michael is was his fortress and home base in a confusingly and trying time. Michael existed high above the streets of Vega lording over its citizens like a god, although whether or not he actually thought of himself as such changed from citizen to citizen. He stood at the widest edge of the building high in the sky and stared out on the dark night sky and reflected on his actions as he so often did.
His luxurious room had just served as a love nest for a number of women, but there was only one whose name he cared or bothered to remember. The Senator Becca Thorn insisted that these nights were not orgies seeing as how every woman in that room existed only to serve Michael and his needs alone. The focus was always on him, and with the intensity he held and applied to everything he did, it almost became more of an adventure in voyeurism for the women involved once they were of no more use to Michael. To Becca, the term orgy seemed to leave room that if you were not taking part in the main event you could create your own event, but that was never the case in Michael's bed. All archangel, all the time and once you were done you slept it off.
Michael never took the time to try and see things from the perspective of the women whose names he never bothered to learn, though. Even if Becca may have liked to think of herself higher above the other women when it came to loving Michael and assessing his needs it would break her heart to learn the truth. Beyond her usefulness in the Senate, Becca could just have as well been a face in the crowd, or should he say, in his bed.
That night after the ruckus events of moaning and near constant fluid mixture on the now filthy sheets Michael was feeling more bored, and therefore, confused by his feelings than ever. Michael questioned if he had now been treating himself too much to human desires and would soon start to actual worry for the girls in his bed's feelings like humans did. He would typically find the thought laughable if it hadn't kept popping into his head.
Michael's heightened senses alerted him the sound of a woman in his bed who just took a deep, irregular breath when compared to those of her sleeping companions. He could hear her rise and retie the silk belt of her robe as she walked toward him. Softly padding over to pick up Michael's robe as well she dared approach the archangel.
"You were a naughty boy tonight."
Oh, how Michael secretly detested Becca's need to belittle him or "dirty talk" as she so called it. Due to his recent thoughts, though, he was actually thinking about how he was making his mates feel so he kept his would-be admonishment to himself.
"You shouldn't indulge me." Becca placed a light kiss on his bare shoulder, in near irony. It was almost as if she hoped she could break down Michael's emotional barriers with gentle caresses and whispers. Then maybe, just maybe, he would love her in his bed with the kindness she so desperately yearned for rather than the rushed, hard fucks Michael bestowed on her – not that she would ever want anyone to know that.
"These evening would be much more enjoyable if you didn't hate yourself after," Becca reminded him for umpteenth time, reaching around and placing Michael's robe on him.
"Any risk, no matter how small, that I might have children is a risk too great to take," Michael replied in his usual unreadable tone. Becca took the cool tone as a needle prick to the heart. If she couldn't show him by example just how she wanted to be treated – golden rule and all that – she would take the approach that appeased the senator inside of herself.
"Would it be such a bad thing? Vega needs children," and it was with that comment that Michael was no longer confused. This was why he didn't bother with empathy. He clearly could not sire children at this time and anyone who entertained that notion didn't see Michael for what he truly was.
"Not children like that," Michael answered. To be honest the word "stupid" came to his mind but he kept it exactly there: in his mind. It would hurt the senator's feelings, and though Michael now resolved to not waste his precious time worrying about what she felt, he knew enough of the human nature to realize that would be rude. "This has to stop."
"Then stop," Becca challenged.
Unfortunately for Becca that no-nonsense, take-it-or-leave-it, I'm-in-charge attitude had the exact opposite effect she had hoped. While her statement appeased her inner Alpha female, it did nothing to help her emotional state seeing as how Michael calmly stepped right off of the widest edge of the tower, sprouted wings, and flew away. As Michael fled the room and all of the emotions that were pent up within it he realized he was glad to be free of his previous dilemma.
Hours later the security vehicle containing a very tired Alex drove down a night-time, uninhabited street of Vega, while a walkie-talkie giving off various communications between soldiers and static was stuck up on the dashboard via Velcro. She had to wait in a stupid cell for the rest of the day until the security soldiers could round up a Humvee that had been out on border patrol to come back so that she could be escorted downtown. She didn't see the point why, though. She would just be sitting in a cell, to then be transferred to an armored car that would then deliver her to another empty room. She zoned out, eyes seemingly staring into the back of the headrest of the seat in front of her. Without losing her focus she reached up, pulled out her hair-tie, and scratched her scalp momentarily, only to place her hair back in a ponytail at the exact same spot on her head, simply looser.
The car then took a turn and just like that there were people anywhere and everywhere along the makeshift sidewalk of the uneven street. Alex was pulled from her reverie when she heard a deep voice announcing through a bullhorn speaker, "Market Access and streets beyond this point are reserved for V4 and above." She looked out the window at all of the people in their varying levels of poverty and destitution squeezed in between the street vendors and stalls along the path.
As the car rolled along Alex leaned her cheek against the cool surface of the window and glanced up at a massive four-sided screen sitting atop a tower in the distance advertising the annual Vega Jubilee.
A Regal Jubilee, only at the Whele Arena, Don't miss it!
That screen and its message then faded to black as a new script took place on the screen in an elegant gold script.
Our Savior is Coming
The security vehicle rolled along as Alex turned her gaze back down to the underprivileged persons milling about the V3 authorized street. Alex rolled her eyes and humorlessly laughed to herself. She decided she'd rather close her eyes and block out the sad sight in front of her, than have it watch it any longer. The car then came to a halt causing Alex to lightly bump her head against the glass. She stared at the spot and saw the grease and grime her cheek left on the window and hoped that she could get a shower sometime soon. Alex's attention was called forward as the driver moaned at the hold up in front of the truck.
"Ugh! This city is going to hell," he complained.
"What's that?" Alex questioned the driver as she leaned forward to try and see what he was seeing. The driver huffed as a few young men with backpacks strapped to their backs were helping their fallen friend up and quickly returned to running from the authorities around the truck and back towards the street that the van had just turned from. A taser-gun shot out a live charge towards one the of assailants who then fell to the ground, shocked from the jolt, as the remaining two hooded figures and man who just fell looked pitifully at their fallen comrade. They then forced themselves to continue their dash towards the far street.
"Fuckin' V1's tryin' to get to streets they ain't supposed to be!" The driver then laughed at his own brilliant insight. "Probably stole some shit and now they're goin' back for more."
"Or maybe they are just trying to find a place they will feel safe for the night." Alex was insulted by the green uniform's ignorant comment. Being a former V1 Alex remembered just how hard it was for those who weren't fortunate enough to have a permanent place of residence. Those forced to exist in the tent cities and tunnels in Vega. Hell, half of the homes along the seemingly unpopulated street the security van had just turned off of were uninhabited, and while stealing wasn't uncommon among lower V levels, Alex could sympathize with those who just wanted to rest there for the night. Alex's thoughts drifted to that stupid building, "The Stratosphere" that was absolutely filled with rooms not being put to good use. What upset Alex the most was that if those spaces were actually put to some sort of good use it would at least lessen the glaring insensitivity of Vega's government, because it wasn't like the city offered these people a way to take care of themselves or anything.
The driver just gruffed out a lame, "whatever," and the car resumed motion. Winding through a few more streets the van then passed the tower that held the four sided screen and Alex came back into reality seeing that she had been brought to one of the buildings in the very heart of Vega. The AAH: Arch Angel Headquarters.
"Exiting the city with a vehicle is a high-line offense. You'll get purged out of the Arch Angel's Service for this." The interrogator staring down Alex was Master Sergeant Aaron R. B. Barry – also known as the ARBB (the Ass-wipe Ranked Below Bastard). He slammed his fist holding a whip down on the metal table that Alex was now sitting flush against on the other side. "Consider this your demotion to V0. You're going to be an untouchable."
"Yeah? Well its better than making a home in Michael's ass to be a V3 like you," Alex countered.
"That's V4 to you, ass-wipe." The ARBB came around to the other side of the table while Alex smirked to herself thinking that the Master Sergeant had it the other way around. Barry shoved his bootonto one of the back legs of the chair shifting Alex to an angle and then slipped in between the table and the new space created and then practically straddled her left thigh to get in her face. Alex found his breath horrendous. "So how did you do it, huh? Reprogram one of the gates? Hack the surveillance?"
Alex put on her best shit-eating grin to egg the bastard on further when out of the corner of her eye she saw a shadowy figure appear behind Barry. The ARBB followed Alex's gaze and turned around to see the Archangel Michael had joined them. Alex wondered what on earth Michael was doing up at this time of night, but she knew that warranting a visit from the archangel himself meant that she was in deep shit. Removing himself from Alex's personal space, Barry went to leave the room until Michael called to stop him.
"Wait," Michael commanded and Alex held her breath. "Leave the whip."
Alex then huffed in frustration. 'Welp… there goes my last hope for some "gender-appropriate" punishment,' Alex thought to herself. Not that she'd want it. She had worked too damn hard to be just as good as every other man out there sporting a blue uniform and she would be damned if Michael didn't intend to pass judgment on her regardless of her sex.
"You know the rules and why they exist." Michael moved around to the opposite side of the table, a few paces back, placing the whip behind his back and clasping that wrist with his free hand.
'Ever the professional,' Alex thought seeing the practiced manners he was known to have around humans exhibited right in front of her.
"Everything has a purpose here in Vega. It is how the city survives," Michael continued. "Founding Law: 'For the protection and good of all the gates are inviolable'."
"I have a right to leave the city. We all do."
"No. You don't." Something about the way Michael emphasized "you" made Alex look up to meet his gaze. Michael held it for a moment and stepped a foot closer to the table and continued, while Alex pulled her chair back up to the table so that her chest was flush against the cool metal again. "Tell me about the angels."
"There were three of them. All eight-balls. But something about them was different." Alex could swear that she felt Michael's gaze somehow intensify upon her skull. She looked up from her now clasped hands on the flat surface and continued. "One of them could change their form. A soldier. He sprouted wings."
Michael's expression was unreadable. "Where were they?"
"A few miles down the strip," Alex replied.
"What were they doing?"
"Playing 'Texas-Hold-'Em'," Alex plainly stated. Michael looked at her as if maybe this was one of those human jokes that his angel sense of humor couldn't quite get. Alex took pity on him and raised her eyebrows in earnest. "Not kidding."
"And what were you doing out there?"
"I was…" and then Alex just lowered her head. 'I don't have to explain myself to this holier-than-thou winged tyrant.'
"You know the punishment for going outside the city's walls," Michael reminded.
"What? Am I going to be purged?"
"No. You're a member of the archangel corps. But if you ever do anything like this again, I won't spare you. Do you understand?" Alex heard the lashes of the whip fall from Michael's hand leaving only the handle remaining in his grip. "Stand up."
Alex arose from her chair and lifted her leg behind her until she felt the arch of her foot fall onto the edge of the seat and pushed it back. She replaced her foot back on the floor and took a slightly wide stance as if she were ready to do everything from dance to run away. Alex steeled her hands underneath the edge of the table she found out was nailed to the floor earlier. Gripping it tight and looking down at the insides of her wrists she took a cleansing, deep breath and prepared to let the whip fall on her back….
One lash and a grunt swallowed by Alex. Another lash and Alex refused to let the sound fall from her lips. A third lash with far more force fell upon her back. 'That will leave a pretty shitty mark,' Alex thought as she desperately reached for her sense of humor to help her through this experience. A fourth and fifth lashing fell onto Alex's back but still Alex refused to let Michael hear her cries. She was getting ready to take another deep breath when a voice from the back of the room broke her concentration.
"I think that is enough, Michael. I imagine she has learned her lesson."
'What the fuck was General Riesen doing here?!'Alex demanded information of herself that she just could not provide. Her sense of time told her that it must be at least 2 in the morning. 'I've skipped out over the wall before, so why is this time so different?' Nothing was computing.
Alex heard the heavy footfalls of General Riesen approach and she looked up at him. "Right, my girl?" to which Alex silently shook her head ever so slightly and the general continued. "Tell no one of what you saw. Not a single word about the eight-balls to anyone."
Alex went to inhale deeply, but instead it came out as some sort of gasp. 'Since when was I holding my breath?'
"Now go report for duty," General Riesen commanded.
Alex straightened up and left the room. Alex heard Michael mumble something to the General that she couldn't quite make out, but as she was just a few paces outside of the room Michael called to her from the doorway.
"Oh, and Alex…"
"What?"
"Happy Birthday. It's tomorrow, right?"
"Uh, yeah. My 25th. How'd y – " but Alex cut herself off. Alex could not have been more confused in her life than she was in that moment. Even more confused than that time she tried to teach herself chemistry out of an old high school textbook she found in an abandoned home on one of her scavenges. Just like then, not a single thing was making sense. Michael nodded curtly in Alex's direction and went back into the room containing the general where he then slammed the door behind himself with his oversized boot. Alex stood there dumbstruck and eventually found her feet slowly leading her away from the secret meeting Michael and General Riesen were now conducting.
"She shouldn't be outside the walls. The ruins are too dangerous." Michael demanded.
"She has been sneaking outside of the walls since she was a little girl. She knows Vega better than anyone."
"She needs to be disciplined," Michael insisted, his voice gaining strength.
"Perhaps, but after what she did for Clare I owe her," General Riesen explained.
"The eight-ball came right up to the gate. They're back," and with that comment the room was plunged into silence as understanding passed between the two men.
*Author's Note*
I plan to write this story in accordance with the scenes that take place within the already existing episodes and continue my story from where new, different, or altered characters are present.
