“This is when it happens.”

That was the sentiment in general, the vibe flowing through the massed assembly as they witnessed what should be referred to thereafter as the singularity. But it mattered so little.

The feel-good, self-satisfied feeling shared by those present was saccharine and, quite frankly, vomitive to Manny. He’d had enough. He knew this was a milestone but, for all the hope of the future weighing on this particular moment, he could not bring himself to care. He wanted it all, and them all, to burn and wither and die.

The magic, the revelation, the whole farcical spiritual revolution of it all, he simply despised it and all his fellow men, as it were. It would not go beyond this night, however. He was making damn sure of it.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to your newly appointed leader, Sig Faizal!”

The applause was deafening. How they sniveled and begged for some form of attention from the elite, the ruling class. He had withstood so much debasing and humiliation, but this would not happen again.

The darkness will come and there is no remedy, no salvo, no measure to counter it. Manny knows it is the most terrible thing that could be visited upon the congregation and, by proxy, the entirety of humanity, but it is necessary.

The shots rang out loud and true and Manny knew that he was beyond redemption. It was done, the deed, and with it the final revelation. They would know revolution, in truth, and the strife of earning freedom. Because you cannot have freedom without the fight. And tonight the shackles are shorn and Manny knows that it is he who has set events in motion, wheels within wheels, and he is but a pawn in a broad game, but a pawn of his own volition.

Disobedience to tyrants is obedience to God.


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