Null

1 (after)

"Thank you for coming," I say. I open my hands in a gesture that means welcome, but there is nothing welcoming about it. I am stiff. Cold. Still. Be them I keep having to remind myself. I am nothing. Expressionless. Emotionless. Although all eyes are on me, I blend in. I am everyone in this room. They are me. I am not significant.

"We are grateful you have joined us today." I stop. Take a breath. Continue.
" As we all know, this man has inspired people for generations and generations to come. By the generosity of the INCS, International Cured Society, he has flown here from New York to speak to you today. Without further ado, I present to you the creator of Zinacran himself, Mr. Ruvien Maxweld," There is the correct amount of applause. Not too much, but just the amount to be respectable. Good. They didn't expect anything.

I step to the back of the stage as Ruvien walks on. He is merely a hologram, but still, he looks and talks like a human. No one knows that he wasn't flown in. I'm not even supposed to know, but I do. It makes my mission easier.

I press my back against the back of the stage and slip behind the curtains. No one will notice me, now that their attention is on Maxweld.

Backstage, there is nobody. It is dark and quiet. Perfect.
I find my bag and pull out the gun Lyra gave me before I left. I stick it in the pocket of my pants, then load myself with other weapons. A dagger in my boot. Extra bullets hidden everywhere.

I double check everything is in the right place. When I see that it is, I stuff the bag back where it was, and silently go back into the crowd to take a seat.

I sit in the back on the left, closest to the exit, and quickly scan the room to make sure no one saw me come in. There are roughly 1000 people, all who have been cured. Their expressions are blank, as is mine.

Maxweld is speaking about the effect Ziacran has had on society, all the good things that has come from it. He says it has saved billions of people from the Rage. He couldn't be more wrong.

About an hour or so into the speech, my nose starts to tingle. I can feel myself needing to sneeze.

No. This cannot happen. It will ruin everything.

I try to control the urge and keep a straight face. But, I fail. I sneeze.

Immediately everyone turns to look at me. A mix of horror and disgust linger on all of their faces. "An impure!" A man yells to my right.

I act without thinking. I pull out my gun and shoot wildly. Someone tries to tackle me from behind, but I manage to grab their arms and flip them over my head. People are holding clothes to their faces and running to the exit as fast as they can. In all the confusion, I have lost my target.

I try to scan the crowd for my guy. But, security is starting to swarm in from unknown doors, and they are heading straight for me. I have approximately 10 seconds before I have to leave and consider my mission a failure.

Finally, I find him. I try my best to hold off security by shooting and stabbing daggers blindly. I see my target, a man maybe a little older than me, wearing the classic white suit and a golden watch. He was easy to pick from the crowd because of his athletic build and tallness.

I'm swatting off security left and right, but I finally make it to where Target is standing. He's helping guide people in an orderly fashion out the door away from me. I sneak behind him and hold my gun up to his head. In all the chaos, the guards have lost me and people are only focused on getting out.

"Come with me," I whisper in Target's ear, "and you won't be hurt." That was a lie, of course, he was going to be hurt back at the Base.

I feel Target swallow against my gun, and nod. Even though he could easily put up a fight, I have a feeling he is going to do whatever I say.