The Tale of Junazahite: Dance with the Devil

Chapter Eight: The Other Leader

"A day would come that is bathed in light, but underneath, there's darkness ruling the world. Be aware not to be fooled by the devil dressed as the angel. You must know how to prevail over the devil."

The door swung open, and two people walked inside; one was Jhina, looking frustrated, and the other was a tall man in a cyan robe, his beard long and white, semi-circle glasses on his big nose. They both knelt down and praised their Savior. John noticed that the man had a four-pointed star tattoo on the back of his left hand, resembling the witness star.

"It's an honor to finally see you, my Savior," the man said breathlessly, shaking with excitement. "I'm the leader of the Fadayists, Richard Al-Alaam."

John nodded numbly, realizing the voice that commanded the healers through the microphone belonged to him. However, he was in no mood to greet him, feeling so exhausted.

"Please forgive us for our inconvenience," Richard Al-Alaam continued. "But we had to ensure that you are really Junazahite. Oh, God..." he suddenly stopped, trying not to cry. "I can't believe you're finally here. Praise God!" He dried his eyes and took John's hand. "We, the fadayists, will sacrifice our lives in your path, my Savior!"

John was speechless. All of them were looking at him strangely, wanting to get his attention. He was a god in their eyes. Even though he didn't like to be praised, he knew he needed it. Their support was crucial unless he wanted to be killed by the government's minions.

"I need so much information about your... organization," John finally said.

"Of course," Richard replied frantically. "Please follow me, my dear Savior."

As they walked out of the room, Jhina frowned at John, looking disappointed. After they managed to pass through the screaming Mothers, who wanted to kiss the hands of John, Richard said, "Please forgive her, my Savior. She's read your profile and found out your father was a governman."

"I'm not proud of that. Neither was my father."

"I see," he nodded quickly. "But she's come from the fourth province. She's seen so many despicable things. She hates the people from the first province and the people who work in Parliament."

"She hates injustice," John described her in one sentence.

Richard looked at him, admiring his wisdom. It was strange for John to be worshiped. He felt unpleasant and even disconnected from them.

"So, tell me about your organization," he demanded.

"Two years after the Republic of Survavlists was founded, the people with pure faith realized how corrupted the regime was. They decided to fight back. So my father, Riez Al-Alaam, created the fadayists organization. Since then, we've been fighting against the regime, hoping that we can overthrow them. The regime has so much power and without you, it's impossible to destroy them."

He stopped in front of a door. Unlike other things, the door was purplish. He opened the door and invited John to come inside. John looked at the room. It was big and cold. There was a big white A/C on the wall, and to his surprise, windows were showing a beautiful majestic garden.

"Is it real?" he asked even though he knew the answer.

"No," Richard said, huming. "I wish it were, but there are just LCDs."

"How do you provide this much energy? Wouldn't the government find out?"

"We have our own sources in the Eqautor. Contrary to the regime's claims, we have the capability to generate ample electricity using solar power. But they want to keep the people hungry, worrying about their basic needs."