James was stuck. He started to fear himself. He was scared because, mentally, he looked up to the elite guard so much that a part of him wanted to justify this murder.
What kind of man am I to follow someone like this?
A short green haired boy sprinted forward to help the girl. Demi's lieutenant, "Sho," moved in fast, far too fast.In a blur, the jewelry clung, and he had the boy in a chokehold, restraining him with disturbing ease.
James looked forward as he saw the green haired boy, his brain processing what was happening."Orman?"
He had known that boy. They were in the same combat class a year ago. He had a good heart. He was always bullied, but he never quit until he passed. He was a medical apprentice at age 19.
"Orman, don't…" James mumbled to himself under his breath in disbelief.
Wait… no. I know how this ends. I've seen this before. I've read this before.
The green-haired boy struggled, his voice hoarse but furious."Let me go! I'm a doctor, I can help her!"
The crowd remained frozen. Silent. Watching.
He's going to die… and I'm going to get a power up? I've seen this before.
"What's wrong with you people?!" the boy shouted, eyes darting around the group as he turned purple, losing oxygen.
Oh my God. James's heart sped up as he vomited in his mouth."I'M IN A FUCKING VIDEO GAME? A MOVIE SCRIPT? BUT I CAN'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT?"
Sho gripped him tighter, but Orman didn't quit."Have you no sense of justice? That woman could've been your sister! Your mother!"
These people aren't real? Something's off. I know it.
James pinched himself as he felt it.
But everything still feels real…?
Orman screamed, his voice cracked with raw emotion."You just stand there… watching?!""If this is what Mr. N stands for—he's… he's nothing but a—"
Snap.
The body collapsed to the floor, limbs twitching, eyes wide open, empty.
A string of saliva slipped from his lips as silence swallowed the courtyard.
"Sheep." Sho whispered, walking back to the side of Demi.
Sho turned and walked back toward Demi.
That was when James fell backward onto the floor, landing hard on his ass.
Pathetic and uncontrolled, he lost the motor functions in his body.
And so, he screamed.
Not a shout. Not a cry for help. But a natural scream tore out of him, wide mouthed and uncontrolled, his jaw stretched so far it was like it was trying to rip itself open.
His face twisted into something ugly and grotesque. His eyes looked ruined, the most traumatized you could ever see someone.
It was the kind of scream that came from pure mental anguish, when the brain could no longer hold reality together.
He pointed at Sho, his arm shaking so badly. He broke out in desperate, sickening cold sweats. He couldn't even speak, he just pointed as his breath hitched continuously.
James couldn't even get up. He was crippled as he shook, pointing and crying.
This confirmed it.
He was not screaming because of the murder.
He was screaming because he had just seen it.
Sho walked beside Demi after snapping Orman's neck.
But his legs did not move.
He was walking… but his legs did not move.
Not a step. Not a bend. Not a shift of weight.
His body slid.
It drifted forward through the air, stiff and upright, his feet dragging uselessly across the ground as if the animation had failed to load. Like a broken visual loop. Like a character being repositioned instead of walking there.
It was so uncanny. Because it looked so real. And it was real. These people were all real. He could feel it.
James gagged, saliva stringing at the corner of his mouth as his chest heaved. His eyes darted wildly, trying to find someone else who saw it.
Anyone.
No one reacted.
No one even blinked.
The crowd stayed frozen, obedient, waiting.
James clawed at the stone with one hand, still pointing with the other, his scream collapsing into ragged, broken gasps. His face was soaked, sweat and tears mixing, his expression locked in disbelief so intense it bordered on pain.
This was wrong.
Not morally.
Not ethically.
Structurally.
This isn't reality… I can't—
And just like that, our main character collapsed from a panic attack.
But the script must go on.
We must cleanse the air of the "white" sin.
We have to trim the sheep.
We have to shear their wool and let them walk naked.
For the whole world to see.