Hello, friends!

We're back this week with another fine chapter for you. This one packs a pretty heavy emotional punch. I'm also very proud of it from a dialogue standpoint.

I also added a few extra perspectives just to give the story more life. Now that Raka is alive, his point of view will be crucial moving forward.

Stay cool! It's hot out there! As always, reviews are welcomed and encouraged!

"Religion is regarded by the common people as true, by the wise as false, and by the rulers as useful."

-Edward Gibbon

Act 1 Chapter 5- Kingdom Come

The next day and a half were some of the worst Caesar ever lived through in his lifetime…lifetimes? He wasn't sure at this point. Time seemed to be broken.

He'd received just enough water to quench his thirst, and just enough food to stay standing during the long, hot days under the baking sun. The lack of trees made the heat unbearable. Keeping his sanity became just as important as staving off hunger.

Alone and left with nothing except thoughts, Caesar tried to focus them on his companions. Raka and Noa were at major risk. Mae…well the masks wanted her for some reason, but that hardly guaranteed her safety. Those who fought wars in the name of conquest lacked compassion for those lives they deemed lesser than their own.

Part of him was thankful for Noa's growing attachment for her. His willingness to protect her showed a charity he struggled to find in himself. Caesar despised the way humans were treated by apes in this world. His heart ached to see the conflict between them rage on. And yet he'd lost too much to humans to give unconditional trust. There was more to Mae's story, he just hadn't figured out what.

Caesar grunted as the right side of his chest gave a painful lurch. Multiple shocks to the wound had caused the area to become tender. Raka never had a chance to apply more medicine or change the bandages.

The depth of his empathy went deepest for Raka. Since the battle at the crossing, the orangutan hadn't said a word. That despondent, lost in the woods expression on his face reminded him so much of Maurice whenever he was in a bad mood.

I am to blame.

In the span of a few sunsets, he'd driven a spear into the ape's faith. By the very person he claimed to follow no less.

Struggling to walk on the shifting sands of the salty coast, Caesar tried to get his attention.

"Raka."

No reply. The orangutan, hunched over and swinging his tied arms, didn't so much as flinch. He dared to be a little louder.

"Raka…."

"No talking."

A masked guard jerked down hard on the rope, causing him to stumble. Caesar growled in response, but could do little to avenge the slight. His fate was tied- literally- to wherever these apes were taking them.

He gazed upwards at the savage sun, wincing at the intensity of its brightness. Humans sometimes spoke of a place where bad people went when they died. According to Charles, that's why 'hell' was considered an insult.

Parched, tired, and taxed beyond the ability to fathom, Caesar wondered for a brief moment in time if he actually had died and gone to the bad place. Or perhaps hell was not death, but a life of continued, unending suffering. Who could say?

A loud caw signaled a bird of prey. Maybe a vulture waiting to pick his bones? No, that call was too majestic to be a buzzard.

An eagle.

Noa's clan raised the creatures and formed bonds with them. Was it an omen of some kind? Or was he just going mad?

As Caesar limped along the beach and the tide rose, so did signs of civilization…or the remains of it. Fifty yards away from shore, ships of varying size began to pop into view. He knew what they were because Will took him to the bay once- thousands of dinghies, boats, and vessels of all kinds docked for miles around. To see the ruins served to add to his misery.

The slow roll of time ticked by and with it, the ships grew larger. Great hulking monuments of metal in watery graves. Some were relatively intact while others resembled skeletal husks, their rusting joints exposed like a carcass of iron against the cold sea.

Human work.

Caesar swore he heard Koba laughing at him. Shaking off the madness, he realized with a degree of humility that Mae had been half right. These were definite signs of human activity…that is if humans were the true source of the activity.

Looking to his left, a row of orange tents popped into view. Flimsy structures made out of an assortment of sticks and tarps. A single ape with a spear stood atop the grassy dune and began to make a series of hooting calls upon their approach. This call was echoed by a chorus of others unseen, hundreds maybe, even thousands.

Wherever they were going, it was most certainly not human. Caesar had a sinking feeling it was worse.

Cornelius…I hope you are on the other side.

Noa had never seen something so…big.

The structure embedded on the shore was massive. Bigger than anything he'd ever seen. It reminded him a little bit of some of the tall 'trees' that existed in the valley beyond. They were strange with trunks much harder than normal trees and much taller.

The lack of vegetation freed his mind to comprehend the scale of the colossus in front of him. He tried to talk to Mae, but she was too far ahead and bound by rope. He would have to face the unknown not knowing.

If the giant monstrosity was intimidating, it failed to prepare Noa for an additional surprise. Apes. Thousands of them. All congregating within this vast jungle of steel. He'd never seen so many in one place. Not even the village at full strength had a fraction of the numbers. And these apes were wild.

As Sylva led them inside, a decibel shattering level of hoots, calls, screams, and jeers surrounded them. Others slammed the food with their fists, swung from dangling chains, and beat their chests.

"Stand back! Human!"

Evidently, their arrival had been anticipated.

A few apes scurried around Noa, sniffing with curiosity. Someone threw what Noa hoped was not feces at Raka. But their reaction to Mae was nothing short of hostile. One ape rushed her, stopping just short with a terrifying screech. Another bared his teeth in such a threatening display, Noa returned it in kind.

"Stay away from her!"

The threat was as weak as its volume, drowned out in a cacophony of ear piercing shrieks. Overwhelmed, Noa joined in, shouting in agony just for a chance for the nightmare to end.

Lightning waddled over, that rusty blade in hand and for one fearful second, he thought his wish might be granted. The hairless ape marched straight towards Mae who's soul left her body when he held it up in front of her.

A single swing later and her binds were cut.

Reeling from the shock of staying alive, he failed to prevent Sylva's enormous hand from grabbing Mae's arm and leading her away.

"NO!"

He turned around and saw that Raka had not received the same gift. Instead, two soldiers led him in the opposite direction. The orangutan stayed calm in the face of death, allowing the masks to take him wherever fate had in store.

"Raka! Raka!"

"Stay calm."

Caesar's voice was barely above its usual timber and yet Noa heard it over the horrendous racket assaulting his ears.

Lightning laughed as he sliced off Caesar's bondage and pressed his head against Noa's. The rancid breath emanating from his mouth almost induced vomiting.

"You should listen to him…baby bird."

His own bonds were cut with a third slash of the knife.

"Welcome home."

Lightning pointed the knife towards a large opening, bathed in sunlight. Still unconvinced that he wasn't about to be killed, Caesar urged him forward, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Keep moving."

He did so, willing his legs to move even if they felt like they had the consistency of a limp fish. Amidst a crowd of vicious, fanatical apes, the only one he trusted was the one he'd met four days prior.

Stepping into the light, Noa raised a hand over his eyes to prevent its rays from blinding him. What he saw was nothing short of jaw dropping. Every instance of disbelief seemed to beget more disbelief.

Inside the confines of a sandy plain were dozens of apes, each one fulfilling a specific purpose. Most underwent some kind of manual labor, whether that be carrying buckets full of rocks, turning a giant wheel transporting those buckets, or building fortifications. Each ape moved in sync with another, devoted to a singular purpose connected to another purpose. It was…a sight to behold.

This marvel of ape ingenuity failed to hide several flaws. Born and raised in a village where everyone was expected to partake in the upkeep of the clan, Noa noticed that no one did their job with any enthusiasm. The sense of pride from mutual cooperation was noticeably absent. No love, affection, or gratitude. Just mindless conformity. A perversion of what community was supposed to look like.

"What is this place?" Noa asked aloud.

"A prison."

Caesar's answer made no bones about where they were or the gravity of the situation. The kind that had seen it before.

To his left, he saw a number of apes amassed on top of a large gate. It was made out of the same material as the monster but stood intact, upright…strong. The apes were placing bags containing an unknown substance in and around it.

Mesmerized by the scale of the activity, Noa almost missed the familiar black blur slamming into him.

"Soona!"

"Noa!"

His heart raced in excitement and joy. The two apes hugged wrapped themselves in a massive hug, pressing their heads together with unbridled affection.

"I saw you fall," she whispered.

"I did," he said, voice trembling at the memory of his village ablaze. "But I am here…now. Are you…hurt?"

"I am fine."

They broke apart and Noa saw a strange, red mark in the center of her forehead. He reached out to touch it. She stopped him.

"Can't…remove."

Setting aside the ominous implication of that remark, he remembered that another ape needed his help.

"Soona, meet…Rocket."

He'd almost said 'Caesar' but remembered that he'd been going by another name since the night of their capture. Soona bowed respectfully.

"Soona," Caesar said with a small but soft smile.

"Rocket is also looking for his…clan," Noa said, using the appropriate sign.

"We can try to help," the female ape said graciously.

Caesar gave a simple thank you, but there was a grimness lurking behind those green eyes. Like he already knew he wouldn't find his family.

"Is…mother here?" Noa asked Soona, who nodded in the affirmative.

"Let me…take you to her."

What a puzzle!

Raka had solved quite a few over the years. But this one had to be the most difficult. A puzzle within a puzzle. A true mystery.

He'd been intrigued from the start by Caesar. The chimpanzee who shared a name with the Lawgiver. The same one being used by masks for evil. There was a connection between them. But what?

"Keep moving!" his ape guard snarled at him, giving him a rough shove.

Raka did not say anything in kind. Doing so would be pointless. Thinking aloud was a habit responsible for much of apekind's misery. If there was no need to speak, then one should stay silent. And so he allowed the guard to move him along the dark rusty corridor without protest. Reacting to the thuggish masks only invited trouble

It was true, he'd been hurt by Caesar's words at first (how ironic) at the crossing. But the monks had said that a challenge to faith should not be viewed as blasphemy but an opportunity. A gift. A gateway to self reflection. That's what he'd been doing for the past few days…

Being a captive provided ample time to engage in this self reflection. The first thing he'd done was forgive Caesar, just as his namesake taught. Harsh words were often a product of pain and pain made apes do foolish things. Almost none of it was personal. The way Caesar had reacted, however, gave one the impression that he spoke from personal experience. Most…curious.

They reached the end of the hall, where he was put inside a built in cage attached to the wall. A loud clang of the door sealed him into his prison.

"Get comfortable," the ape said with a nasty smirk. "Proximus will…decide your fate."

Raka maintained silence, sitting down on the hard floor. He rested a hand underneath his chin and pondered everything he'd learned so far.

There was an ape named Caesar, who was missing his clan but claimed to know nothing of the Lawgiver. There was a human, Mae, who somehow learned the ability to speak. The masks wanted this human for some sinister purpose. They used Caesar's name to justify atrocities. Mae and Caesar did not like each other, or at least, they did not share trust, that sacred bond between two beings. One wanted to go south to find other humans, the other sought to find his stolen clan…which both happened to be in the same place.

Such a puzzle!

Destiny had brought himself, Noa, Mae, and Caesar together. He was sure of it. Things happened for a reason. One didn't always have the luxury of knowing why, but when they did, it paid dividends to follow the path laid out in front of you. When Caesar inquired that night about the Lawgiver's story, he was delighted to tell the tale. What he had not prepared for was the reaction. Emotional, to be sure. Gripped in the thralls of adventure. But the questions Caesar asked bordered on downright peculiarity. Almost as though he met the disciples. Like Cornelia and Blue Eyes were his own wife and child.

'He was a fool to think he could ever find happiness.'

Caesar did not recognize the Lawgiver while simultaneously referring to him as someone he knew. When Sylva asked for his name, he'd given a false one.

What did all of this mean? What tidings did Caesar bring him? He might be stuck inside a prison but Raka didn't see the iron bars as a limitation. This place was a key. A key to deciphering this riddle wrapped in an enigma. To fit the pieces of the puzzle together.

The raucous below continued to shake the bars of his cell. It made him feel great pity for the poor souls. Mislead and tricked into believing lies that caused them to act against their better nature. Faith should be used to uplift, not to control.

Indeed, that was the one regret Raka had from this series of unfortunate events. The masks had taken his belongings upon capture. His life's mission was to protect his Order's work. Being the last of his kind, it would be a great tragedy should it fall into the wrong hands. Or worse…be destroyed.

That cannot be helped now.

Books might store ideas, but the mind created them. As long as he had that, their Order could never be broken. Whatever his destiny, to live as a follower, or to die as a martyr, he would accept with open arms.

Raka closed his eyes and began to focus on his breathing, channeling each inhale and exhale into a calming draught of peace. A streaming river of serenity.

Scroll three, verse nineteen- 'We do not live in the past or future, but the present. Live for that which we may control and hope for that which is good. As the Lawgiver commands- do not trade one moment for another. For within, lies happiness.'

The work would continue.

When Sylva had grabbed her with the combined strength of five human men, Mae had thought herself to be as good as dead- and the mission along with it. She'd join her friends soon. The real heroes. The final nail in the coffin of humanity.

Rationality kicked in. If the apes wanted her dead, they would have done so by now. They had some other ill design planned. Figuring that out came in a rather nauseating form.

The gorilla pushed her inside what she suspected used to be the captain's quarters and slammed the door shut. Mae gazed around, taking stock of the room's inventory.

Electrical staffs and complimentary parts lay on a wooden table. The same kind wielded by the masks. The same kind Noa fixed. Appropriated from old human technology to be sure. Reverse engineered by the looks of it.

An ominous sign. The apes might be dominant due to numbers and superior strength, but it was estimated that the scope of their scattered civilizations was at the same stage as humans at around 15,000 years prior.

They're advancing quicker than expected.

Setting that problem aside for now, Mae crossed over to the other side of the room where a display of botany clashed with the discolored walls of the ship. She would have admired their beauty, were it not for the utterly disgusting home in which they sat.

That paled in comparison to the adjacent wall, which housed a shelf of moderate size filled with books. Lots of them. Of all the things to find in the house of a murderous ape, this frightened her more than any weapon.

Mae picked up one of the books, which was torn at the bottom right corner. Welcome to the Monkey House, by Kurt Vonnegut. How poetic.

Impossible. How?

It dawned on her that for an ape to be interested in reading, they'd need help from the one species that retained the ability.

"Vonnegut," a voice rang out. A human voice. "That's a good one."

A bearded old man limped down the steps connected to the upper deck. He looked to be in his seventies, though it was possible he was younger and hadn't taken care of himself. A full head of graying hair was tied into a loose ponytail. He wore an old brown tunic full of holes, baggy pants, and a silly looking necktie. Like a pet dog.

"Not a lot of fiction there," the old man continued as he hobbled over, setting down a book and a pair of glasses. "He's mostly interested in history. Roman history."

A wheezing chuckle wasn't returned.

"The name's Trevathan," he said with a bow. Again, Mae did not return the courtesy. The stove behind them began to whistle.

"So…where ya from?" he asked in a poor attempt at small talk.

"You first," Mae responded. She was not about to reveal a damn thing to this old coot.

Sensing her trepidation, Trevathan gave a drier, less congenial chuckle. He poured tea from a copper pot into a saucer cup.

"Well…doesn't really matter, does it? I left. Same as you."

It sounded like a condensed, depressing version of an adventure story. Mae was aware of what he referred to. She'd never seen him inside the bunker, so he probably came from one of the surrounding colonies.

"I made it almost to the coast." Trevathan's cup trembled from unsteady hands. "...then I fell and shattered my ankles. That's where Proximus found me."

Ah, that explained everything. The smidgeon of sympathy she'd felt for him vanished in an instant. She recognized a rat on a ship any day of the week.

A traitor.

"And now you read him Roman history?"

The question was designed to be both rhetorical and accusatory. Trevathan was smart enough to catch that and dodge it.

"So, who are you?" he asked with a shrug.

"I'm the human not helping the apes."

That old smile drooped into a pile of wrinkles.

"Oh…you're one of those people, huh?"

"If by 'people' you mean the ones actually helping our people…" she put a venomous emphasis on the word. "Then yes."

He gave a dismissive snort. "You're young. Sooner or later, you'll learn."

Mae's anger flared at being dismissed but she pushed that down. Her late mother had invested too much time in cooling her temper to lose control of it now.

"So you're the mastermind behind all of this?" she asked as Trevathan wobbled over to a random armchair and sat down.

"I wouldn't give myself that much credit," he said with a groan as he sat down. "Proximus is the visionary. I just help bring his ideas to life."

This false bit of humility damn near sent her into a rage.

"Are you kidding me?" she snapped, marching over to the table with the electro staff and picking it up. "Do you know how many humans he's killed with these? How much damage he could still do?"

Trevathan merely sipped his tea, unconcerned, ignoring her outrage. A long, loud horn blew in the distance.

"Hang onto your hat," he said, rising from the chair over to one of the large openings overlooking the ground. "You're gonna wanna see this."

Noa was relieved to see his mother alive as well as the younglings. Dampening that bit of happiness was the festering squalor of so many apes. They lived underneath the makeshift canopies, which provided little protection against wind and weather, gathered by a small fire burning inside a black pot. All kinds of waste and undesirable fluid sat at the edge of the wall overlooking the sea. The smell was awful.

And they judge Mae for her scent…this is no way to live.

They hooted and cried into each other's arms. She too bore the same mark as Soona.

"Father is…" Noa could barely get the terrible words out. Dar hushed him with a mother's touch. She rubbed a soothing hand against the back of his fur, just like when he was younger.

"I know…" she said, her own voice breaking. "I know. We must…do what we can now…stick together."

Noa had to stop his own tears from flowing, for if they might never stop if they continued. Especially in front of Caesar. Speaking of which-

"Who is this?" Dar asked, being the first to notice.

"Mother…this is…Rocket." Saying that name felt clumsy coming off the tongue. Unnatural.

"Hello, Rocket." She was kind and welcoming as always. Caesar, in a display of deference, bowed and offered a hand.

"Hello."

"No need," she said, shaking her head. "I am not…elder. Please…come. There is not much food. But we will…share."

"Thank you, but-"

"Come," she insisted, waving over his protests. "Stick together, yes?"

The meal was meager- a small bit of fruit and grain, but it would have to do. Caesar explained he was looking for his clan and gave them a series of names- Maurice, Lake, Cornelius…

"Have you seen them?"

Noa saw that Caesar sought the same happiness as he did. To know your family and friends were alive. That alone made all the difference. Embers of hope sparkled inside those green eyes. They died when Dar shook her head.

"No…I have not," she said sadly.

"There are…many apes here in this camp," Soona said, trying to rekindle that hope. "They could be…somewhere else."

Noa could tell by the way Caesar looked off into the distant sea, he did not believe her. A darkness gathered about him, as though a rain cloud appeared over his head.

A horn sounded. Every ape of mature age followed its call into the center of the sandy yard.

"We must go," Dar said, sounding fearful. "Talk later."

The pounding of drums echoed throughout the compound. The group made their way down the concrete steps towards a wooden high rise covered in red flags flapping in the breeze. A collective chant began. It started off small, but rose in volume as more apes convened together. One word. One name.

'Caesar.'

It induced a repulsive nausea in Noa's stomach.

He turned to Caesar, hoping to gain some understanding of why his name was being used with such…reverence. Importance. The older chimp failed to meet his eyes, instead moving forward as if in a state of dubiety, unable to process the bonanza in front of him.

Why do they chant your name? He wanted to ask. What do you hide?

He spotted Mae's slender shape poking through one of the many holes in the metal monstrosity, watching from afar. At least she was safe. He took no small measure of comfort in that.

The drumming and the chanting alternated in their rhythms, bouncing off each other like a symbiotic song of yin and yang. A powerful wave as strong as the ocean beyond the wall. It grew faster and louder as the source of its potency emerged from the dark depths of the ship.

He was a bonobo. Enormous for a member of that species. He strutted down the rampway, assured in his status as alpha. Male apes beat their chests and slammed the ground, shrieking with excitement while female ones draped in black cloth bowed their heads, averting their eyes. A single loincloth covered his midsection and on top of his head sat a three pronged crown made of shiny, molded copper. A king for a kingdom.

Climbing up the wooden tower, the king swung around in a series of elaborate loops and feats designed to mesmerize the adoring faithful. A demonstration of strength to show there could be no question as to who was master of his domain.

The bonobo landed with a mighty thud on top of the platform, basking in the glow of his loyal subjects. He played the crowd like a maestro, bringing them to a near fever pitch until he subdued them by lowering his hands.

"What a wonderful day!"

The king had a sonorous, booming voice that needed no amplification. He was in complete control.

"What a wonderful day!" the crowd repeated in unison.

"Are we thankful for the words of Caesar?"

"We are thankful!"

"Do we bend our heads?"

"We bend!" They bowed as one and held out their hands in supplication.

"Say his words!" the king commanded.

"Apes together strong!"

"SAY HIS WORDS!"

"Apes together strong!"

"WHAT A WONDERFUL DAY!"

It was disturbing to Noa that every ape repeated that mantra with such enthusiasm, but to hear it from Soona and his mother struck a personal blow. Their tones laced with submission. Acceptance. Defeat. Only one did not bow. Only one refused to say it back.

He saw Caesar look up at the ape king, with loathsome eyes. There was a deep seated anger inside them. A churning tempest of wrath.

"Apes…stupid," he growled.

It was then that truth broke through the canopy of Noa's youthful mind. For he knew that the words- those three words so compelling in their simplicity- belonged to the Caesar standing next to him. The same one Raka talked about.

The Lawgiver.

Apes Together Strong.

That's what he had told Maurice so long ago. Trapped by the confines of human arrogance, forsaken to life inside a cage, Caesar grasped that apes needed to be united if they were to break the chains of oppression. It's why he freed Buck. It's why he gave a cookie to Rocket when others would have shunned him. Cooperation before conflict. That was his basic philosophy.

The rage he felt seeing that philosophy twisted into a crude instrument for personal gain rivaled the most savage of storms.

Maurice tried to warn him many times that apes were just as susceptible as humans to violent emotion and stupid decisions. Caesar understood that for the first time in his life on this day.

"Apes…stupid."

He echoed his best friend both out of disgust and full acknowledgment that he'd been right.

"That felt good," Proximus said with the same relish of someone who'd just experienced ecstasy. "When I think on those words…I feel good. Caesar was First Elder…now I am Caesar!"

So this is what it boiled down to. His words had been stolen. His name abused. Now this…preening, pompous fool dared to steal it?

"He is not Caesar."

Noa saw through the ruse. His respect for the young chimp went up considerably.

'Careful son, we are his now.'

Dar was a wonderful female. Kind and generous. A wise mentor to her son. But she did not fight against the deceit in front of her face. This made Proximus twice as dangerous.

"Now, when I think of all the treasures left inside for us…I feel very good."

More cheers. More mindless groveling to feed an insatiable delusion. He postured and posed to the fanatics bowing down to his majesty, reveling in their admiration. Apes continued their work attaching ropes to horses, fixing harnesses, and placing bags against iron doors.

"It may be difficult to open," Proximus stated, pointing a meaty finger towards the vault. "But not impossible…because we work together all as one…"

The masses held up two fists and gripped them together against an imaginary branch.

"As Caesar wanted! As Caesar required!"

Caesar, the real Caesar, didn't remember much after that. When the multitudes of apes made that gesture…the one he'd created so many years ago…everything around him went silent, replaced by a distinct ringing.

He fell to his knees onto the sandy shore, staring at his hands for an indeterminable length of time. Two hands. The ones that created this hell.

My fault. My fault.

The great leader cast his eyes upwards beyond the position of the false Caesar, settling on a giant symbol- a white circle surrounding an intricately curved diamond in the middle. His symbol. The window.

Mae's words whispered their taunts.

'Apes usually attack humans…

'...apes aren't exactly the good guys…

'...don't ask obvious questions.'

It mattered not how many generations passed or the number of seasons gone by, Caesar knew he'd never see his family again.

He was truly alone.

Alright, so Caesar's in the bad place right now. Who and what can pull him out of it? And how will Noa react to his personal realization? What is Raka's fate? Can Mae control her anger?

Find out next week! Rock on!

~TheWasp