The doors swung open into the room where 119 heads of state were waiting for him. He raised his hand to his head in salute before going to the seat reserved for him, while his guards stood on either side of him, armed to the teeth with stern faces and guns.Even then, his mind returned to Jose.Where was he now? Was he alive or dead? Had he even made it past the end of that horrid year? Or had they even passed one another without knowing?He would never know.It was why his thoughts shifted to another sibling he knew, Esmeralda. She had been fourteen at the time, with pretty hair and eyes. He still remembered how her body had still been forming into a womanly shape at the time — things he was quick to look away from. Brothers could not look upon their sisters with that kind of desire.The problem was that other eyes did not turn away the way his did.In the face of disaster, nothing is ever the same, and nothing matters to the victims more than staying and feeling alive. Could General

There are men who know how to inspire dislike in the people who set their eyes upon them within moments, and without any effort, and the particularly thin man that stood up when the Head of State who had been speaking laid back in his seat was one of these.“Your Excellency, General Rico Stone,” he began, adjusting a large pair of glasses that appeared to weigh his face down. “And to all 119 Heads of State seated here at this august meeting… I salute.”General Rico now found himself more irritated by the man, forming an image of him in his head. These were the kind of men who acted high and mighty, who would wrinkle their noses at the sight of poorer people, and rather throw crumbs of bread at their dogs than at people who needed them. He did not like this man.“I, elected spokesperson of the newly created Union of Heads of States have come, as the lowly servant of theirs, to speak to you on a number of matters. Firstly, is the issue of the governments, and how all power seemingly res

When all departed, he remained alone in the silence.The shirt was back in place, adjusted neatly on his form, but he did not have the heart to say all the goodbyes, handshakes, and greetings that followed after such meetings… all the officiality and pretence towards diplomacy. Physically, mentally, emotionally — he was exhausted on all fronts, and he rested his head on the table.It wearied him that he had ended a war on one front that began another on himself. Where were the heads of state when himself and the army put themselves at risk to save everyone else. Now, they came to ask for power — which he had not taken, but had quite naturally drifted towards him as the hero of the war.He managed to get himself to stand and dragged himself to his car, half attentive to the salutes the soldiers who saw him gave, their bodies stretched to the maximum while their feet stomped hard enough on the earth beneath them to cause earthquakes. At the car, his chauffeur offered to drive him, but h