Revolution: The New World

The Next Day

July 3, 2071

0900 GMT

The Dome, Apollo

Li Wu's Point of View

I have on shock-absorbent and bite-resistant gold and blue armor, I’m equipped with a rubber assault rifle and a rubber pistol. All clean and ready to go.

“Li?” Abbas asks in confusion as he approaches.

Abbas, an inquisitive boy who’s the same age as me. Middle-Eastern ethnicity, tall, muscular, reserved, handsome, glass eye, and a natural-born genius.

“What happened to Anna?” He asks in genuine concern.

“Don’t know, and don’t care. She’s not here, and that’s all that matters.”

“But I heard…”

“Drop it! She’s gone and is never coming back! (Damn it. I must lower my voice.) Thanks for the concern, but we shouldn’t be discussing such controversial things, especially here. It’s in my best interest to not get flushed.”

I can’t think about her. I have to focus on my training. Becoming a Death Angel is the only way I can help my family.

I hear sarcastic slow clapping from the podium.

“Salutations, new recruits!” A woman with a British accent says. “For those who are pathetically unaware, I am the beautiful Commander Edit Grace, and it brings me enormous joy to welcome you all into The Dome,” she says with a big, over-welcoming smile.

On the large podium inside this vast, dim empty room is Commander Grace, a mildly beautiful woman who plays a significant role in our security. Caucasian, late twenties, brown hair, a bright blue pendant around her neck that’s stylized to look like a full moon, and an eye-catching turquoise dress. But her hair! It’s so obnoxious! The top half looks like the poofy hairstyles that American women rocked in the 1980s, and the bottom half has four large braids tied into a ridiculous ponytail. It’s like she’s having some kind of identity crisis or something. Sigh. Maybe when I arise in the ranks, I can use my skills to give her and our uniforms a much-needed makeover.

“Everything you are currently viewing is virtual. It is dark and cold now, but that shall be irrelevant once your training begins. Soon you shall experience the inferno warmth that is, hell on earth,” Commander Grace says in a nonchalant tone as she twirls her hair. “The Dome’s purpose is to prepare you to deal with the vile heathens below,” she explains as she smiles at her expensive-looking glass of red wine. “Unfortunately, due to unforeseen circumstances, I shall not be the one to train you new recruits,” she says with a disappointed look on her face. “My fabulous teaching methods can be quite tormenting, so perhaps it is for the best,” she says with a crazed look in her eyes. “Nevertheless, my… ew… disciple, shall be the one to teach you,” she struggles to say as she rolls her eyes and clenches her teeth.

“Eschew your threadbare tongue, Edit,” a young woman rudely interrupts in full confidence as she takes her place at the podium. “Heh heh. I apologize for the cunning linguist’s extensive explanation, but I, the royal’s elite enforcer, shall be the one to prepare you for hell,” she proudly announces as Commander Grace glares at her and takes a large sip of wine. “However, due to my hard work and achievements, I believe I am owed a proper introduction,” she says as she slowly returns her attention to General Grace. “Ahem, Edit? If you don’t mind?” she asks in an arrogant tone and a despicable smirk.

“CLAP… Clap… clap,” Commander Grace claps as she lets out a wicked laugh. “Well, well, well,” she says with synchronized claps as she meets this woman’s glare, neither surrendering to the other. “The insignificant chicken head has finally left the nest,” she says in a sharp tone as she slowly returns her attention to us. “Sadly, my skills are needed elsewhere, for now, be that as it may, I have an astute feeling that we shall meet again upon the sequential conclusion of your story,” she says as she aggressively shoves her empty glass into her disciple’s hand. “My classless and unsophisticated disciple, although admittedly skilled, can have problems finishing her plate,” she says with another wicked laugh. “Allow me to properly introduce the lady of the evening, and the new leader of the Death Angels, Angela Blackwood!” She proudly introduces, followed by everyone giving a round of applause.

A round of applause is the-

“CLAP… Clap… clap,” General Grace loudly interrupts. “With this unfortunate resignation, I bid you all farewell! May Mother Gaia look after you all! Have a marvelous day…” she says as she slowly walks away, extensively exaggerating her hip movements.