23- Fallen From Light

Blood runs down the blade and spills out in large drops onto the sand as she grabs the sword's handle and pulls it out from her enemy's body. On closer inspection, there is blood and shattered bodies all around her. There is only desolation wherever she looks. Exhaustion and despair creep on up on her as she sees that many of them are already dead. She feels her throat tighten as she hears the agonized cries of some of her companions in the distance and when she realizes she can do nothing for them.

In the unprecedentedly dark and raging storm,, and in the strong winds, she turns around, weapon in hand. The mist is thick around her, but the fighting rages on. She hears a noise nearby, someone is trying to attack her from behind. The enemy is screaming at the top of his lungs, brandishing his sword high above his head. Battle scenes are often confusing, but she immediately recognises one of the Devil's beings by his bloodshot eyes and dark skin. She narrowly dodges the blow, clutching her own sword. The being has lost its balance, she can take advantage of it, and she will not hesitate. She throws her blade with all her strength and plunges it into his back before he has time to stand up. He hiccups violently and blood escapes his mouth. He tries to stand up and fight back, but it is too late already. He collapses forward and suddenly stops moving.

Not far away, one of her companions tries to join her, but is immediately pierced by a series of sharp arrows. He falls and joins the other bodies that are already piled up on the ground, including one of her griffins'. She staggers, and turns to all directions. A thick mist has risen over the battlefields, she can't see anything at all. She can barely make out the sounds of battle raging a little further on. She hears one of her own screaming for death. She rushes to pick up the nearest sword, but the moment she bends down and takes her eyes off the battlefield, she knows she has made a mistake. Someone runs towards her and screams. She has just enough time to roll to the side and narrowly avoids the sharp blade that splits the air and plants itself not far from her feet. She gives a blow to destabilize the demon, but he already straightens up. He recovers his balance and turns towards her. They face each other for a moment, but he obviously can't wait to get it over . She challenges him with her eyes, and glares at him. She clenches her fists and raises them in front of her to show him that she is not afraid, and that she knows how to defend herself.

A perfidious smile appears on her enemy's face, and without the slightest hesitation, he rushes at her, sure of himself. He moves quickly, and knows where to strike. She takes another step to the side to avoid the sword, but she is not quick enough: the metal hits her arm and cuts her deeply. She screams. She immediately feels the burning that the wound causes, she also feels the blood that drips in large quantities down her skin. She tries to squeeze the wound, but she doesn't have the strength to do it with her other hand. She must not give in, not now. The fight is not over.

She sees a spear not far from her, stuck under the body of a dead warrior. She may have a chance, but she will have to be quick. Her gaze meets that of the demon. He smiles at her, he thinks he has won. But she won't let him.

His face twists into a grimace as he starts running towards her and screaming at the same time. She waits until the very last moment, when he thinks he has everything under control. She can already see the sword rising in the air and aiming at her head. He lets out another terrifying shout, she ducks down and throws herself at him to throw him off balance. She hears his breath stop abruptly as she hits him right in the abdomen and pulls him back. He topples over, his weapon falls to the ground with a clang. They collapse together. They struggle for long minutes, and hit each other with their fists several times. They grunt, and they resist. He punches her in the face. She can taste blood in her mouth now. She tries to tighten her fingers around his throat, but the blood makes her fingers slip. He pushes her back, and slaps her. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees a dagger not far from them. She lets go of him for a second and rushes at it. She then flips it over to stick it in the man's hand. He screams. His bloody hand is now pressed to the ground, he keeps struggling. She gets back on top of him to block him, she hits him several times in the face. She feels his knees as he hits her in the back to get rid of her. Despite the pain, she resists, she grits her teeth and holds back her screams. She will not do him that honour.

She tries to grab the dagger, but He manages to punch her in the face again. For a moment she feels herself falling backwards, stunned. She clenches her fist with all her might and tries to stay focused. And suddenly, something catches her eye. A shining light. A shield, stuck under a dead body. With one foot she pushes the heavy body away, her fingers slip as she tries to grab the metal protection. Underneath her, the soldier tries to move but screams loudly as his hand stays stuck to the ground. She grasps the shield firmly, and despite its weight, lifts it up, before lowering it without hesitation onto the enemy's throat. She hears a soft noise, the man struggles furiously under her. She sees blood, she thinks he is trying to scream, but the sounds from his now crushed throat are muffled. He suffocates. In a final burst of strength, she lifts the shield one last time and lets it fall again. She feels a cracking sound in the metal. The man's legs fall back to the ground, and his body suddenly stops moving.

She slowly stands up. But she has no time to catch her breath. Another enemy is already coming at her. She takes a side move to avoid the axe that tries to smash her in two. The demon being is taken by surprised by this sudden move, his weapon is heavy and difficult to handle. She grabs him by the wrist, and blocks her opponent. Suddenly, a loud scream echoes behind them, and they hear something whip through the air. It is not a being, but a beast. It is coming straight at them. Or rather, it rushes at the demon being, who does not see it coming towards him. The animal, half lion, half eagle, raises its enormous paw and lacerates the warrior. The man is propelled violently into the air and falls to the ground some feet away. Before he has time to get up, the griffin flaps its huge wings again to catch him and jump on him. The man screams as the sharp claws dig into his back and pierce his skin. He knows he has only seconds left to live. The animal's beak plunges into his neck and literally rips it off, his body jerks for a few seconds before stopping abruptly.

The griffin pulls away from its prey and stands up, ready to attack again. But before they can react, they both hear a loud hiss. A soft sound, that of flesh being torn apart, then the tearing howl of the beast that has just been pierced by a spear. She watches helplessly as it collapses to the ground.

A demon stands not far away. She runs towards him without thinking. Deprived of the weapon he has just thrown into the griffin, the demon being suddenly panics. He looks for something to protect himself. But the being of light is already on him. It hits him head-on, they topple over. He tries to struggle, hits her. They roll in the dust. She blocks him underneath her, and holds up her knife. She holds it in both hands and lowers it in a scream of rage. The Devil being raises his arm in front of him to protect himself. The blade is sharp and pierces his flesh, he screams. She withdraws her knife, and this time strikes him in the side. He feels the metal pierce his throat and then emerge on the other side. His eyes stare at her as the life slowly leaves his body. He tries to breathe, but he is drowning in his own blood. He desperately tries to reach for the knife to pull it out, but she stops him. She holds his hands tightly to block him. He finally stops moving. She lets go of his hands and takes the knife back. But her thoughts are already elsewhere.

She gets up and rushes to the griffin she has left behind, and whose death rattle is getting deeper and louder. Black blood runs down its chest and down its legs. Its bright little eyes meet hers. She feels the unbearable pain that runs through its body. She strokes its neck and the top of its head to reassure it, but she herself can no longer control her emotions. She doesn't want to do it, but she knows she has no choice. Her hand grips the long dagger. She places it between the two eyes of the beast, which watches her without moving, almost calmly and serenely.

Forgive me

For a moment she thinks her griffin is smiling at her. Then, with a sob, she slides the blade through its skull. The animal lets out a last breath, before its lifeless body slides heavily against her. She wraps her arms around its neck, holds it as tightly as she can, and cries.

And suddenly there is silence. Heavy, ponderous, omnipresent silence. The echo of weapons being struck against each other has now faded away. She is there, alone, crying against her animal, which she still holds close to her, as if she were afraid to let go. But she realises that nothing is moving around her anymore. Everything is dead. She can smell the stench of blood mixed with the earth. When she finally looks up, dead bodies are piled up on top of each other in indescribable chaos all around her. She is alone, lost in this strange and unreal silence.

Against her will, she abandons her griffin. She picks up a spear stuck under a pile of dead warriors. She leans on it to stand up, she almost slips and falls. She feels a hot liquid escaping from her nostrils, she cleans it with a wave of her hand. She can't fell her arm anymore, even if the hot blood is still running down her forearm. She is losing a lot of blood, it hurts like hell, and she feels her mind wandering. She feels as if her head will explode any minute. Her vision becomes blur and for some seconds she can't see straight anymore.

She takes a few steps forwards, and staggers between the bodies. She recognizes most of her companions. She feels a weight growing in her chest and her throat tightens in spite of herself. But the further she goes, the more she becomes aware of the silence that surrounds her, as if everything has stopped. As if there was no more fighting. As if there was no more war. She sees the corpse of her third griffin, butchered with axes and swords. She lets out another sob and falls to her knees, exhausted. She no longer pays attention to the world around her. This world that collapsed a long time ago.

The storm rumbles above her. A thunderclap echoes inside her, making the earth vibrate under her feet. When she looks up, all she can see are the black, choking clouds. The huge, irregular mountain range, the rocky peak that seems to have come out of nowhere, also threatening, which overlooks the battlefield, gradually disappears behind them. They are ready to swallow it up for eternity. And yet, all is quiet around her. There is no one left. She can't see her comrades anywhere. She is all alone. Absolutely alone. But she refuses to believe it. It can't be true, it can't be real.

Something is moving a few feet away. She turns, her eyes fixed on the shape that is slowly rising up through the mist. She also sees a sword. Even though she can't make out its face, she knows it's not an angel. She does not dare to move, she knows that he sees her. But he does not move either.

She gets back on her feet, slowly. She does not take her eyes off him. Her fingers tighten one by one around the spear. Her face twists with anger. From where she stands, she sees the demon do the same. She sees his chest heave with great speed, he gasps. He is covered in blood.

She takes a step. He takes a step too. They watch each other, even though they can't quite make out each other in the storm. They stare at each other, challenge each other. A hot breath sweeps over them, the sand whips across their faces. But she doesn't let herself be distracted. And neither does the demon.

She takes another step forward, so he does. She can see his face a little better now. But the only thing she can really see are his eyes. Those huge, clear, piercing eyes that pierce her to the very core of her being.

Something is cracking deep inside her. She feels herself trembling, as when the wrath of Heaven causes the earth to tremble and open. She feels as if she will burst into a thousand pieces at any moment. She tries to resist, but she feels an invisible force engulfing her, drawing her into the depths of the darkest seas. She feels herself drowning in those pupils and their blue light. She sees the axe he holds. But she does not feel threatened. Strangely enough, she knows at that very moment that he is not going to hurt her.

The battlefield has disappeared, replaced by an aura of blinding light. And yet, she moves forward with a confident step, he moves forward too. They are now only a few feet away from each other. They do not take their eyes off each other, even though they do not understand. And yet everything suddenly seems so obvious and clear.

Another thunderclap resounds above them, the sky is blacker than ever, and threatening.

She doesn't think anymore. She walks towards him. She sees him approaching. She can see his facial features better, they don't take their eyes off each other. She understands then that the same thing is happening inside him. They drop their weapons at their feet.

She takes deep breaths, but she seems to be running out of air, no matter what she does. She breathes, she breathes him in, feels the palpitations in every inch of her skin, smells his smell, then hers. She feels joy, then fear, anxiety, then excitement. Light, followed by darkness. Or maybe it's him. It all blends together. Everything is suddenly new, and yet everything seems so familiar. They recognise each other, feel each other. He reaches for her hand. Their palms come together, touching, attracting and repelling each other. The clouds become more threatening around them, but the light becomes clearer, everything suddenly illuminates, as if the ancient world were suddenly awakening from its torpor and sleep. The light, perhaps the connection, becomes brighter and brighter. An electric current flows through both of them, but they do not back down. On the contrary. There is a gentle, comforting warmth. There is also this power, a power like they have never known before. A power that transcends everything. A bond, a self-evident fact that they cannot fight. The ultimate balance. Evil and good. Joy and pain at their peak. A force that unites them, and yet opposes them just as much, like two magnets facing each other. A powerful energy, which can just as easily destroy them. Strength, hope and love in their purest form.

The white light becomes stronger, brighter. It is blinding. It surrounds them. There is them, only the two of them now. And suddenly, everything disappears.

—

There is nothing around them but chaos, the blackness of darkness, the storm and the raging elements. The lights of the apocalypse roar, the sky twists dangerously, the earth shakes. Night has replaced day, the blue sky has become a storm. The wrath of the Heavens has been unleashed, and yet their enemy faces them. He waits for them, taunts them with his distorted and contemptuous smile. His henchmen are all dead, their bodies lying all over their feet.

A flash of light comes straight at her. But she can't avoid it. The shock is so violent that she wavers and falls to the ground. She suffocates. She feels her limbs paralyzed with pain. Something burns inside her. She raises her head with difficulty. She sees the demon man fighting their enemy, more ferociously than ever. He fights, he struggles. He is wounded, but he holds on. He looks for the breach that will allow them to strike the fatal blow, and put an end to it all. He raises his huge axe, but when it hits the Devil's protective shield, it shatters into a thousand pieces. Chaos suddenly pushes him back with a violent jet of energy. He is thrown into the air, and collapses against a rock. She lets out a cry of pain as she feels the pain take hold of her half. He too weakens, and the Demon becomes too powerful.

They both grunt and struggle to sit up. She gets up on her elbows and gasps. The pain in her stomach is unbearable, yet it is as if she feels nothing now. When she turns her head, Chaos stares back at her with his big, terrifying eyes. The energy field around him is gaining power. Its immaculate light dazzles her and she is forced to shield her face with one hand.

Lightning rips through the sky above them. The earth has opened up like a gaping mouth. In this immense crack, which plunges deep into the earth and its abyss, the shadows are there, threatening. The fire of the earth is unleashed, the flames of the world of shadows are coming upon the world. They hear the cries of fallen souls, the rales of demonic souls. If they do not act now, they will have no chance to survive. The world will be plunged into darkness.

She looks at her abdomen and the wound in it. The wound that has never healed. The sign of her fight against the forces of evil. She grits her teeth. She feels so frustrated, and angry. The forces of evil have reached her, and she knows she is being eaten away by them. Her soul blackens. She feels her strength slipping away. This inner strength that has been weakening since the monster reached her. This pain that imprisons her body and her mind. It is irreversible, she knows it. She has understood since the moment she was wounded.

Her gaze meets that of the demon man a few feet away. He comes to his senses, sits up with difficulty. He is wounded in the leg, and in the torso. Inside, he screams in pain. But he doesn't let it show. And yet he does not take his eyes off her. Those big, reassuring eyes that give her strength. That incredible strength, and life. For a split second they forget everything. They forget where they are. They are just the two of them.

But soon the light in his eyes flickers back. She sees terror, then incomprehension, then anger in them. He tries to protest, to rebel. He understands what is happening. But it is too late already.

She gets up with a cry of pain. But her legs hold on. The monster is waiting for her, his gaze fixed on her. He tries to pierce her mind, to control her, but she resists. For a moment, she defies him with her eyes. She gives him a murderous look. A resigned look, but more determined than ever.

The protective field begins to vibrate dangerously. She starts running. She doesn't know how she does it. But that doesn't matter anymore. She will let her legs carry her as long as they can. She will hold on. The demon screams. And she runs. She swings her sword to protect herself from a blast of energy that comes at her, the blade shatters. She drops what's left of the weapon. She picks up speed. Another flash of energy hits her in the arm. She feels the flesh tear. Blood flows. But that doesn't matter anymore either. She loses her balance, but resists, and stands up. She is no longer afraid. She can only see the light. He can no longer do anything to her.

Her skin burns as she passes through the energy field. Her loud scream mingles with that of the beast. She hits him with force. They topple over. Behind them, the abyss awaits, as black and empty as a nightmare. She pulls out her black-bladed dagger and plunges it into the demon's heart. He screams. He struggles, claws at her. She wraps her arms around him a little tighter. Her fingers sink into the beast's flesh. She will not let go. She feels her whole body burning at his touch. He grabs her by the throat and squeezes. The pain is unbearable. But she is no longer afraid. The flames come closer, she feels the heat. She feels herself sliding towards infinity. But soon, everything fades away. Everything disappears. She sees only the light. That blinding white light.

Then everything stops.

—

The heat and the sun are overwhelming. He walks. Or at least, he lets his legs carry him. He stares at the immense blue sky, never taking his eyes off the endless horizon. There is only dust and dry earth, and the desert plain, wherever his gaze is focused. This immense ocean of sand and dust. Everything has become blurred. The sharp lines of the dunes gradually fade away and disappear. They merge with the sky, or perhaps it is the sky that blends with the sand and the infinite expanse of the desert. It doesn't matter anymore anyway.

He has lost all sense of time. He is no longer aware of anything around him, except for the hot wind blowing against him. His feet drag, his whole body is heavy. He doesn't feel anything anymore, as if his soul has left his body. He can't even feel the sweat that runs down his face and chest. His lungs burn with every breath he takes, his mouth is dry, irritated. He simply walks. He no longer thinks, but he knows that he will find his destination.

Something catches his eye in the distance. It looks like a blob, quite clear in the bright landscape. A shape emerges, a dark but strangely airy blob, as if it were floating above the ground. It seems to undulate, but he soon realises that this is because of the heat on the ground. He thinks it's a mirage, or perhaps a deception of his exhausted, energy-starved mind. He squints, but the shape is still far away. He continues to move forward, and naturally moves towards it. He raises his hand to shield his eyes from the sun and to see better. He doesn't really believe it, and yet there is something there.

His extinguished heart suddenly jumps as his eyes finally make out what is standing there. A strangely twisted form in the middle of all that sand and sun. Life among silence and emptiness. A tree.

He knows it is technically impossible, but nevertheless, the plant is there, real, a few feet away from him. It stands there, in the middle of nowhere. It is impossible, and yet he is not surprised. It is simply there, so beautiful and elegant. Purity in its purest form. A tree a few feet high, with a thick trunk and airy branches. There is also colour. Flowers of an unreal colour in such a hostile environment. A deep purple, full of life.

He approaches and takes a moment to observe it. Then he takes another step, and reaches out his hand. He wants to touch, hesitates for a moment, suspends his gesture. And yet at that moment, he feels. He feels life, vibrations, energy. Under his palm, he feels a soft comforting warmth. Slowly, his fingertips, then his palm, then his whole hand rests on the bark. It follows its contours, feels it, presses itself against it a little more. A strange sensation takes hold of him. He suddenly loses the rhythm of his breathing, and gasps. He feels himself being pierced by something. He lifts his head and stares at the sun glaring through the branches. He closes his eyes for a moment to savour its warmth on his skin, and finds it almost comforting in that moment.

He just lets himself be carried. He drops to his knees. The ground is hard under him, it hurts him, but he does not pay attention. It's just another pain among many others. He takes a deep breath. His head starts to spin. Maybe it's the pain, or maybe it's just tiredness.

Suddenly he feels something warm on his cheek, and which spread along his whole body. When he slowly opens his eyes again, he realizes that he is lying on the ground. The soft sand caresses his skin. Above him he sees the little flowers fluttering in the dry wind. They seem to dance and intertwine in a light dance. Everything seems so unreal to him, as if he is stuck in a dream. A dream whose end he already knows.

He closes his eyes again. He feels his breath slowly slowing down. Everything calms down inside him. The beating of his heart resounds like heavy drums in his chest and echoes steadily throughout his body. He feels his muscles gradually relax in his battered body. There is no more heaviness. The pain finally disappears.

Everything becomes blurred, everything fades away, and yet he sees the light. The most beautiful, the purest light. The one he had lost a long time ago already. And a long time ago he stopped struggling too. But after all those years of loneliness and suffering, after all he had to sacrifice, he can finally rest now. The fight is finally over. The age of blood and war is over.

He hears the wind whistling, far, far away, and the sound of the branches waving above him. He feels the sun still warming his face, but it's another kind of warmth that he feels inside. And for the first time in years, he feels her warmth, her presence. In these lands where he once lost her, he knows she is there with him. He smiles.

The fight is over.

—

OSLO, PRESENT DAY

She looked absent-mindedly at the wilted plants in the usually green and perfectly tended garden, before her gaze wandered off into the void again. The silence in this big house, the emptiness all around her, was now all she perceived and all that was left of the outside world. Tobias had been buried the same morning in an intimate ceremony in the family cemetery, somewhere in the Northern district of the city. But for the first time in several days, and strangely enough, she felt calm and serene.

Footsteps echoed on the carpet. Someone had come to stand in the doorway, but remained silent, perhaps for fear of disturbing her. She suddenly came back to her senses, and massaged her temple. Her head was buzzing terribly and hurting like hell.

"The driver is here, Miranda."

She tilted her head to one side, then the other. She closed her eyes for a moment, and sighed, before turning around reluctantly. She met the gaze of her assistant, also soberly dressed in black. She readjusted her fitted suit jacket and hobbled over to the table not far away, walking with difficulty with her cane. Saija made a step forward, in order to meet her and help her walk, but the businesswoman stopped her with a movement of the hand, visibly fed up. The assistant took a few steps back and let the Norwegian continued on her way and reached for the papers that were on the desk. The half breed then tucked them under her arm, her heels clicked as she headed for the door and out of the room. She felt Saija follow her without a word, and they both went downstairs. A few henchmen were waiting for them there, and they nodded briefly as the two women walked through the lobby. A rather large man with a slightly too tight tie was waiting for them outside, next to the open door of a large luxury sedan. The Norwegian got in and took her seat on the black leather seats, before Saija took her sat down next to her. The driver then slammed the doors and got behind the wheel, and started the engine.

As they were about to leave, one of the henchmen walked over the car and suddenly opened the passenger door and sat next to the driver, who looked doubtfully at the assault weapon the green-eyed man held firmly in his hands.

"I asked for something discreet, Javier," Miranda told him coldly. "They'll never let you in with this."

The soldier turned to the Norwegian woman.

"Just a precautionary measure. I'd rather have it with me. Just in case, you know. But don't worry, I'll leave it in a safe place during the conference."

They stared at each other for a moment. The woman noticed the many scars on the young man's face, and the thick bandage he still had around one of his forearms: she had been told a steel bar had pierced him there, and that his arm had come close to being saved. His left eye, unfortunately, had not survived the tons of stones that had fallen on him, as well as a good part of his now disfigured face.

"Let's go, before we're late," Miranda finally said, now looking away.

They set off.

—

The city streets were almost empty by this early time of the evening, so they had no difficulty reaching BIOTEKNIKA's buildings in the centre of the capital. Despite the cold and thick fog, Miranda was surprised to find impatient hordes of journalists waiting for her at the doors, microphones and cameras in hand, all ready to jump at her. The two women exchanged a brief glance with Saija, who didn't seem any more worried than that. On the contrary.

The car slowed down, dodged a few unconscious people in its path, and then stopped with a jolt. Javier and the driver got out first. The henchman pushed aside the few onlookers who had suddenly rushed towards them, while the driver helped the two women out.

As soon as Miranda set foot on the ground, camera's lights started flashing in all directions. People shouted her name all around her, or some incomprehensible question. Under the protection of the Argentinian henchman, she followed Saija, and they made her way through the compact crowd to the entrance doors. The Norwegian paid no attention to the hustle and bustle around her. She kept her head down, stayed concentrated, walking with the help of her cane. When they finally passed through the building doors, and when the doors closed behind them, they suddenly found themselves alone in the middle of the large entrance hall, in an unsettling silence and calm that contrasted greatly with the atmosphere outside. They had no time to come to their senses when a very young assistant rushed up to the two women to greet them.

"Mrs Svendsen! I'm sorry for all this commotion, if I had known, we would have taken extra precautions...", he apologised awkwardly, almost stammering.

She merely stared straight into his eyes in response. The frail young man swallowed with difficulty, visibly nervous. He tried to contain himself but was unable not to look at Javier's hostile face and his one-eyed blindfold, then at Saija's split lip and her still bruised face, before looking down at the Norwegian's walking stick. Miranda glared at him. Without wasting any more time here, she jostled him and headed straight to the company's corridors, closely followed by her assistant and her henchman.

They quickly went through the offices of the marketing and sales departments, before passing through a heavy double door, which led them to another long and dark corridor. They heard the young assistant run to catch up with them, before inviting Miranda to a small meeting room that had been turned into a temporary dressing room. She settled ther for several minutes to be made up and prepared. After a final check-in with Saija, they all left the small room and set off to the conference room, close.y followed by the clumsy assistant once again. Still hobbling along, leaning on her wooden cane, the half-breed walked with a confident step down the narrow corridor that led her to the back of the stage specially set up for conferences and other important company events. She, Javier and Saija waited for a few moments backstage while the various technical assistants finished setting up the equipment. Someone offered the Norwegian a glass of water, which she declined with a sharp wave of her hand. Through the curtains that hid the backstage area from the rest of the room, she realized the room was full of journalists. She recognized a few local TV stations, including the national TV NORGE, but also a BBC camera, as well as a handful of French journalists she had met before. She then looked at the clear plastic desk waiting for her in the centre of the stage.

She didn't feel particularly nervous, but was eager to get started. She was aware the road to revenge was still long, but she knew that tonight would be an important first step. A strategic blow she would strike at her enemies without the slightest hesitation.

"Is everything ready?", she asked her assistant mentally.

The young woman nodded softly, her arms tightly crossed against her. Miranda nodded in satisfaction.

"Perfect."

A little further away, a technician waved his hand at her, and she heard the presenter come up to the podium and address the journalists. Suddenly they beard only silence in the room. Javier and Saija stood slightly back. Leaning firmly on her cane, Miranda climbed the steps to the stage one by one and walked towards the lectern. For a moment she was blinded by the spotlights all focused on her. Murmurs ran through the room at her appearance, but once again she paid no attention. She placed her cane against the transparent desk, put her notes in front of her and laid her hands flat on them. She looked at the two microphones in front of her, then looked up at the crowd of journalists. Her gaze fell on the small red light that had just come on on the camera that stood straight in front of her.

She felt a powerful sense of satisfaction and excitement come over her, and she was unable to contain the smile that formed on her lips. A Machiavellian smile, full of a determination she had never known before. She raised her chin triumphantly.

"Good evening to you all."