Time ticked by slowly and Corey was once again forced to acknowledge the fact that he was the only one who owned a wall clock in the entire nation. He watched the antique second hand move one more step and felt like he was losing his mind.

Clocks are a menace.

Despite what he thought about the offending chronal device, he made no move to burn it down and send it to the waste compacter where it truly belonged. Dawn would have his head for destroying such a rare 21st century artifact.

The woman was more obsessed with that time period than anyone else—the thought of what to gift her for her upcoming birthday gave him headaches. Just thinking about having to scour the history of all the four nations to find a relic made his head pound.

If she comes back, that is. . . Corey pressed his gloved hand against his forehead in hopes of alleviating the pain that sat stubbornly on the edge of his mind.

"If I knew being a minister was so hard I wouldn't have contested in the first place," he said with a vexed tone and bolted the door behind him. But even as the words left his lips he knew that they were lies. He loved his job and the risk to his life was worth it.

The moment Corey teleported into his office he had told Priscilla to inform Lords Estell and Maudlin of his current whereabouts. He didn't need them thinking that he was running away from them. Rumors grew too thick in North and all of him itched to get the entire conversation over with as soon as possible—before the press got hold of the news of the match he had just fought.

"Kathryn," he called, his voice heavy with frustration. He pulled off his gloves and watched static blue twirl around his fingers like lightning. . . Blue, like a bewitching sea of death.

"Sir?" The AI replied readily and snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Show me footage of the match." Corey clenched his fists in hopes of dispersing the charge that floated around his skin. He couldn't believe that this was happening, and now of all times. He was loosing control.

While waiting for Kathryn to play the video, he walked to his desk and started pulling the drawers open.

Where is it?

He dug his fingers into piles of paper, not caring for the fact that they caught on fire the moment he touched them. He flung away the smouldering documents before they turned to ash and after a minute of haphazard searching he found the little pill bottle hiding in the corner of the drawer.

"The footage is ready," Kathryn announced.

Corey lifted his hand and popped open the cap of the palm-sized white container. Without a shred of hesitation he poured all its contents into his mouth.

"Play it." Feeling the burning sensation along his skin subside, he finally slumped into his chair as the pills slid down his throat. His vision had stopped swimming and his headache abated too.

He found it odd that the drug made him feel better so fast. When he had been on his chip, he never got instant relief like he did now. Tablets were even not in production anymore, so how Dawn managed to make so many of them was a mystery.

Out of curiosity, Corey turned the plastic bottle over and read the fine prints on its side.

Take one pill a day. This container contains ten. He spent a moment admiring Dawn's calligraphy, then spent another considering the consequences of overdosing.

I and just medicine don't mix. It was the reason why he never had direct access to them. Either he abused them when the pain got too much or he didn't take them at all.

He wondered what Dawn would think if she found out that he hadn't been taking his drugs. A cool stream of sweat trickled down Corey's back and he was suddenly filled with dread.

His fingers against brushed the spot on his left wrist where his chip was supposed to be.

Maybe that was why she left. . . The thought made him suck in a deep breath. Dawn was all the good he had left in the world, it had never been his intention to drive her away.

He let his gaze leave the bottle and looked at the screen above his bracelet.

I'll deal with this later. He tossed the bottle back into the drawer. What he needed to do now was figure out what gift would appease his best friend.

His thoughts wandered to another antique that she had been trying to acquire. It seemed that there were none left in the world today but if he had the designs he could easily make one.

A bicycle. Corey instantly put it down on his mental calendar.

The action made him feel a little more relaxed so he focused on the screen and watched his fight up to the defining moment when he struck Gideon with lightning. As he had expected, the cameras had caught everything even with lights off, anyone with the video would see everything.

"Kathryn, I need you to alter the footage straight from the database."

"Do you want me to remove the lightning?" she asked.

Corey scowled at the enlarged imaged of his eyes during the fight. It had been reckless of him to use his powers, he realized that now. "Forget about that, remove the gold."

"Okay sir." The screen vanished with her voice and Corey turned away from it.

He let out a breath that curled up in streams of steam and stared down at the white vapour oozing out of his hands. "It has been such a long time."

Five years ago it could be said that Corey had full mastery over his powers. But now. . . It was like he was a little kid starting all over again, trying not to burn the house down each time there was a thunderstorm.

Two knocks on his office doors drew him away from a past filled with rigorous training and an absent father back to the present where he had two Lords to deal with.

Corey fixed a small smile on his lips and took the scattered files in his hands along with his bloodstained gloves.

"Burn," He watched the paper and leather vanish in a smokeless flame and dissolve into ashless nothings.

He pushed in the drawers and arranged his desk, willing a tongue of golden fire to sweep around the room and burn all the paper that was strewn on the floor. Naturally, everything that caught fire was an important document.

Extremely pleased with himself for regaining that level of control so fast, Corey burned all the paper in his office, regardless of what had been written on them.

Unlike his private use of clocks, he had forced the use of paper on all his citizens years ago. As with most of the reforms carried out during his reign, it stemmed from a suggestion Dawn had made. Even though poverty had been routed out over the centuries there were still many people who couldn't afford a holo-screen bracelet, and although it was still quite costly and rare, paper solved the problem easily.

As North's minister he did all he could to promote the dwindling industry by buying most of it himself and distributing it among his subordinates. Thus all important sectors in North used paper—which was quite convenient considering that it could not be hacked.

Though trees had become somewhat scarce a long time ago, Earth didn't need them anymore. Oxygen was now manufactured artificially and shields were erected around the planet to protect it from radiation. Some centuries back, the ozone layer had come to nothing and the glaciers had melted. Most had said that the sun would go out next, and they said so still but the world was still here. Humanity was still surviving.

That fact reminded Corey of the capital and the dire straits it currently faced. He found it hard to believe that after all the Earth had been through, this would be what ended it all.

"Come in," he waved a hand at the door and the lock opened. A messenger walked in, dressed in the standard dark green uniform and bronze cap with an empty satchel hanging off his shoulder.

The man announced the arrival of the two lords who stood behind him and immediately fell to one knee.

Immediately, Corey was reminded of Philip.

The messenger before him and the young Tyndale bore no resemblance but the reverence in their eyes was all but the same. Corey sighed in his heart and dismissed the man. He couldn't deny that being revered by soldiers much older than him made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

Sometimes he didn't understand why there were so many extremes to his rule. Some adored him with all their heart while the rest despised him with all they had.

"Edward, Richard," he slowly rose from his seat as his two favorite people stepped into the room. "I am so sorry that I couldn't meet with you earlier. I felt that talking here would be more suitable than that roguish arena."

Corey kept his smile despite knowing that they hadn't greeted him with a salute on purpose. He was well used to their mischief by now.

He sunk back into his seat and waited for them to start complaining about the lack of chairs in his office or the annoyance of that ever clicking clock. He would pretend to not understand what they meant, but unlike previous times when they had met, he would make his distaste for them blatant and showy.

No more hiding. The silence continued and Corey's smile grew as he watched them.

Both Lords had a head full of blond hair and eyes the color of mercury, they wore the same subtle arrogance and shared the same slim build and taste in finery. They were the North's most popular Lords and several conspiracies surrounded them and their mysterious resemblance. Some said that they were secretly brothers, others claimed it was the act of several facial reconstruction surgeries.

Regardless of the rumors, Corey knew the truth. It was coincidence, a pure and bloody twist of fate, that the pair looked like they had shared the same womb for nine months. Their parents didn't know each other and they had been born several years apart, so it was doubtful that they would pay a surgeon for the sole reason of making the two men look alike.

"What a lovely office," Noble Lord Maudlin started, and gestured to the nothingness of the room, "very homely."

"Thank you, I decorated it myself." Corey said as though he couldn't hear the thinly veiled jab.

"I bet for Gideon," Edward Estell said begrudgingly at Richard's constant nudging with his elbow, "congratulations."

"It was mere luck, I assure you." Corey could play this game all night, but unfortunately he still had things to attend to. "I hope you didn't lose too much?"

He still couldn't stop his smile from growing when Edward stiffened and cleared his throat.

"Not much at all," the Prime Lord's voice carried a glacier's worth of chill and dumped it all in front of the minister.

"I bet on you, Corey." Richard blinked innocently and Corey tried not to laugh. "I can give Edward what he lost and I'll still have money left over."

Lord Maudlin, the cool and ever angelic counterpart to his always-in-the-mood-for-war lookalike. He and Edward made a fine pair even though their friendship only came about because of their similar features.

"Well, I'm glad that you had confidence in me," Corey answered. In his opinion, Richard was more dangerous than the Prime Lord. That man could commit murder while wearing that innocent smile of his.

"We didn't come here to discuss your shocking victory over Gideon in that playful match," Edward cut in, "I'm sure that you are quite a busy man."

Busy and play in the same sentence? Are you implying that I am an unfit ruler?

Corey didn't bother to pay any heed to those two conflicting sentences, instead he decided to end the conversation as soon as possible. "What did you want to discuss with me?"

"The Lords under me are rather uneasy; there is talk of civil unrest among the masses. Even though news of the attacks on the border towns are being suppressed, rumors are going around. Townspeople fear for their safety, they are migrating towards cities that have shields," at once Edward became serious, his emotionless eyes remaining fixed on the minister and continued his report. "Towns are being abandoned and our economy is being affected by it. At this rate food in the sectors will become scarce. Our population has decreased since the first series of attacks, and with most of our communication towers down we have no way of confirming which towns are still occupied."

"Nicia, Harman, Sentu, Cusnai, Mastyn, and Listl were the first states to be attacked," Corey replied easily despite the destressing nature of the words he spoke, "search parties have been sent to find survivors. . . there have been none so far."

"By the Code," Richard seemed deeply disturbed by the announcement. "Those are some of our largest and most populated states!"

Corey nodded and clasped his hands on the table. "Our scouts say that they have been completely wiped out."

North was divided into six sectors. The Capital and it's eighteen districts were maintained by the ministers while the other five sectors were controlled by Prime Lords. The five sectors were divided into fifty states and each state was governed by a Lord.

Each Prime Lord oversaw ten Lords and the minister was the head of the Prime Lords. That was how authority was shared.

Noble Lords owned their own plots land and were not under the direct jurisdiction of the minister. They were—as their title implied—noble. In a way they were more powerful than Prime Lords, they were ministers of their own little kingdoms, princes and princesses of age-old bloodlines.

Westley, Tyndale and Maudlin were only some of the noble households.

"Half of the North is gone then. . ." Lord Estell's expression turned ugly and he started pacing, "we can't afford any more loses."

In truth barely a quarter of the population had been lost, but the towns themselves were more important than the people in this case. One example was Nicia. It was North's major research center. Many important people must have died in the attack but it was a fact that their worth was nothing compared to the data that had been lost.

"The capital is also under attack." Corey didn't pull any punches in his attempt to subdue the two Lords. This was not the time for North to be divided, as the minister of this nation he needed to be able to trust his subordinates. And he couldn't do that when they saw him as nothing but a weakling.

The two Lord's turned to each other, their irritation obvious. "Why were we not informed?"

"Why would I inform you?" Corey let out a loud, dissatisfied sigh and got up. "In this past month I have handled the situation and concealed news to the point where no one outside Mount Roya was truly aware of the situation."

He gave a moment for his words to sink in before he continued. "Many lives have been lost and in due time the nation will mourn. But right now the Capital is in peril and it's my job to resolve the matter. You two are powerful, that is true. But I am the minister, don't ever forget that."

After he had finished delivering his impromptu speech, Corey walked past the two Lords and headed to the door. "You can see yourself out."

"Wait—" Richard turned to him, reluctance evident on his features as Corey paused. With a touch of frustration, he turned back to Lord Estell.

"Where are you going?" Edward asked, once again because of Richard's prompting.

"Didn't you hear me?" Corey said and ran a had through his hair. "I have a war to fight."

"You're going to Auro," Lord Estell took a small step forward then brought the foot a step back. He seemed conflicted, unsure of what to do.

"We are coming with you. . ." he said at last.

"Yeah," Richard nodded, a child-like naïveté plastered on his handsome face as he smiled widely and held out his arms. "You may not care about us, but North is our nation too."

Those were the words Corey had been dying to hear.

No more hiding.

†

Chapter 19, about halfway (?) through CC. I can easily say that there will be nothing but action from now on. Also, keep in mind that all characters are liable to die.

Corey, Edward and Richard seem to be having fun!

Greeley, Dawn and Rhea Lee are up to something.

Philip, Issac, Edythe and Esau are being chill.

What do you think of this chapter? What is Corey's power, can you guess?

Why do you think he chose to alter his eye color and not the lightning itself?

We get to know more about the North's structure in this chapter. Issac and Philip are some sort of royalty apparently (but I hinted at that already).

Question of the chapter

Will Corey be able to save the Capital?