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2 • Isiah

2.

Isiah sat at his neatly filed desk, a sketch pad laying next to him. On the sketch pad was a simple revolver. It fired six shots a round and Isiah only used it in case of emergencies. He didn't like guns, they just carried noise and blood wherever they went. Blood and death. He absolutely hated them, after all, he was more of a mastermind, pulling the strings and laying the plans. He was a pacifist, but always kept his katana on him not only as the symbol of the rebellion that it had come to be, but as a way of showing that he wouldn't hesitate to hurt people. But he believed people should be mended, not hurt. He believed that words and medicines could be all it took to win a war. You just needed the right time. As Isiah was lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed Robert opening the door.

"Isiah, Oscar wants to see you." Robert says as Isiah flinches at the name. Oscar, the Noble, the head of this section of the rebellion. Although he was an inventive man, he was dense and wanted violence, thirsted for it. Isiah slowly rose from his chair.

"Don't worry buddy, he seems to be in a good mood." Robert attempts sympathy, spinning in the chair opposite Isaac. Isaac nods, grabbing his sketch pad, a pencil, and his katana before walking out the door. He knew where Oscar would be. Oscar was waiting in the gardens when Isiah arrived.

"Isiah. How kind of you to show up." Oscar comments, already drawing a scowl from Isiah.

"Not like I have a choice!" Isiah snaps.

"My Isiah, we haven't even been talking for a minute! You need to calm yourself. Take a deep breath and think of one of your hippy mantras or something."

"I'm not a hippy!" Isiah scowls.

"Anyways. The Defenders. They're catching up to you, faster than you think. Soon they're going to find us thanks to your foolishness."

"Do you think I don't know the danger? I lost my mother to one of their squads! I know what they do. I'm always careful." Isiah objects, growing red. Oscar suddenly slams his fist down in anger.

"No Isiah! You're not careful! You leave fingerprints and footprints everywhere! You make mistakes, very blatant and dangerous ones! You lead soldiers into combat, and they're killed! You aren't fit to be here. You. Don't. Belong." Oscar yells, but Isiah just frowns.

"Like you do any better. Let's see, we lost Base 8 because a certain someone spoke almost directly into a bug! You've killed the numbers of an entire army for your entertainment! You've made mistakes that cost lives! Need I remind you of the Whitecedar Riot shootings?" Isiah demands, furious. His mother had died in that riot under Oscar's command, so he and Izzy had been left to fend for themselves. Their father disappeared long ago. They never even saw his face.

Oscar let out a sigh.

"Just go Isiah. I just don't feel right today." Oscar says, shooing him. Isiah leaves thankfully, smiling as soon as he was out the door. Oscar smiled too. Now he didn't have to put up with that hippie's objections to shooting the spy listening in from the garden's opening into the huge underground caverns of Wonderland. Oscar raised his cane, twisting the handle so the trigger popped out, and before the spy could move, Oscar shot a bullet straight through his heart.