![]() ![]() “Kenji, what are you talking about? This isn’t about the war?” “I’m sorry-what?” I take my hand off my gun feel my body unclench. “I mean, I knew his punkass was a major drama queen, but this is just beyond ridiculous-” “So, okay-the first thing you need to know is that this isn’t my fault, okay? I was just trying to help.” So I take a deep breath, crack my neck, and look Kenji in the eye. Every day I wake up, filled with half terror, half exhilaration, anxiously awaiting the inevitable missives from enemy nations who would challenge my authority and wage war against us-and now, finally, it seems that moment has arrived. It’s been sixteen days since we took over Sector 45-since I crowned myself the supreme commander of The Reestablishment-and it’s been quiet. ![]() Kenji is staring at me-eyes narrowed-his hands on his hips, T-shirt taut across his chest. I silence a gasp, spin around, and, by force of habit, rest my hand on the hilt of a semiautomatic hung from a holster at my side. I’m startled at once by the sound of a door slamming open. I will never again apologize for surviving. ![]()
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