My eyes find Montes’s. He’s fighting his guards trying to get to me.

A third explosion hits, just off to the side of the stage.

BOOM!

My gaze rips from the king as I’m thrown back, my hair whipping around my face as I tumble through the air. Fire and heat unfurl, and this time, for a split second, it feels as though I’m being boiled alive. And then my body slams into the ground and the intensity of the explosion retreats.

For several seconds I stay down, dizzy and disoriented. I can’t seem to suck in enough air.

I push myself up. I can taste blood in my mouth where my teeth cut the inside of my cheek. I spit it out, then run my tongue over my lower lip.

The air is thick with smoke and debris. But even through the haze, I manage to see the king’s guards now vehemently trying to force Montes off the stage. He’s thrashing wildly against them, and I can’t hear what he says, but he only has eyes for me.

I turn my attention to the crowd beyond the stage. Bombs are still being dropped, and I notice a sick symmetry to it. They’re roughly outlining the perimeter of the amphitheater and arena, corralling us in. The enemy is now amongst the civilians. I see small flashes of light scattered throughout the crowd where the soldiers are now firing their weapons.

This isn’t a battle. It’s a massacre.

I spot the microphone I used not a minute ago; it lays on its side some distance away from me.

No one is dying today without working for it.

I stand just as the king’s soldiers turn their attention to me.

Unholstering the firearm stashed at my side, I flick off the safety and run to the fallen microphone, swiping it from the floor.

The cameras have shifted their focus to the audience. If the site wasn’t already horrific enough, it’s being projected around us. Their screams are a chorus in my ears, and thanks to the video footage, their agony is intimately on display.

“Citizens of the East!” I shout into the mike. The skeptic in me figured the sound systems would be down, but they’re not—not yet, anyway. My voice echoes through the speakers, harmonizing with the roar of the fire.

At my words, I see the cameras pan to me. The whole thing is macabre, especially since several of the large screens projecting my face have caught fire. “If you’re going to die today, let it be on your terms, not theirs.” I raise the hand holding my gun. “And let it be at my side.”

I drop the mike and run to the edge of the stage.

“Serenity!” the king shouts from far behind me.

I don’t bother looking back, and I don’t hesitate. I leap into the crowd of bodies.

Down here it’s bedlam. Madness. People are screaming as bombs continue to drop. The ground quakes, each explosion like a drumbeat.

There are people on fire. People missing arms and legs. People getting crushed underfoot. People bleeding and dying.

I cut my way through the crowd, my eyes pinioned to the enemy soldiers rappelling down from seemingly nowhere, their aircraft invisible to the naked eye. They slide down their ropes and drop into the crowd.

I aim my weapon at one of them and fire.

Even at this distance, I can tell I clipped them on the shoulder by the way their body jerks. Their hold loosens on the cable, and then they’re falling. As soon as they reach the ground, the crowd swallows them up.

My eye catches the large screens. It’s a close up of me. My hair is wild, my lip bloody, and cold determination glints from my eyes.

Savage justice.

The footage pans out and I see the king’s soldiers cutting their way through the crowd, trying to get to me.

I rip my gaze away to aim my weapon at another enemy soldier descending down the ropes. I pull the trigger again, and again I hit my target.

Say what you will about the future, their guns have improved.

I begin picking the enemy off one by one.

The crowd parts for me, and I get to see exactly what hope looks like on their faces.

Amongst the chaos, something shifts.

I sense him before I see him. And then he’s up there on the screen, his dark, ageless face blown up for us all to see.

The king strides through the crowd, straight towards me. I turn away from the screen, and look behind me just as his soldiers reach me.

As they surround me, I see Montes, in the flesh, a gun brandished in his hand.

I’ve never seen him like this, walking amongst chaos and danger like he’s striding down the halls of the palace.

This is not the king I knew. This is not the ruler cloistered away in his ivory tower, nor is it the killer who fought at my side in South America.

He’s something else. Something more.

The sounds of battle rush back in. I’m no longer feeling so irreverent about jumping into fray. Not now that the king is on the battlefield with me, prime for the plucking. There are no Sleepers nearby, nothing to save him if he gets mortally wounded.

He reaches me then. This close, I see the vein in his temple throbbing and the hard set of his features. “There is no winning this, Serenity.”

I know. I knew it before I leaped off that stage. It’s just not my nature to run from danger.

The king’s eyes leave mine to focus on something over my shoulder. His whole demeanor changes.

I turn in time to see enemy soldiers rushing towards us. They shoot my guards. I hear a grunt of pain as a soldier to my left falls to his knees, clutching his chest.

Next to me Montes growls, and then he lifts his gun and begins shooting at the enemy. I follow his lead, shooting more soldiers converging on us.