'[Post-Sentence]'

The crackle of broken glass seemed to almost stem the weight that lay in the sound of armoured footfalls, so carefully placed; atop ragged sheets of steel and concrete. The carpet of this testament, to a failed defense.

Like the bursts of static that waylaid their lines of communication, the scene tore through his head once more. A harrowing loop, an un-invited chorus, of damning recollection.

Shots were fired like punctuation.

‘..Unsurprisingly, the Convictions of Will voted unanimously in your favour. Nobility of Cause and Just Arms were nearly as uniform in their singularity. The rest were largely stacked against you. I think the real scandal lay in the apparent turmoil within The Houses of Higher Calling, and Fate.’

He simply sneered.

‘Have they told you how close it came? Surely by now you’ve been made cognisant, just who it was that broke the deadlock?’

‘They told me in person. Not that it was any mystery.’ came the response.

‘Fuck almighty brother, where in the hell was She in all this pre-meditation?! How did this come to pass?! I cannot bare to watch this all play out. How do you cope?’

The withering look with which he answered, put Time right back in his place.

‘Forgive me.’

’Don’t be ridiculous. Surely you can see where this leads from here. Am I not capable?’ pride and arrogance were rife in his tone.

‘The Enemy fair better in their lot, brother.’ his friend intoned in restrained measure.

‘Then surely the sentence is apt.’

'[Post-Sentence]'

Laszlo Totka

Sydney, Australia

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