After 4 hours and 34 minutes of sleep, he got out of bed and plodded down the steps, remembering last night. Though he knew that Lyra Cannes had told him that she would be staying awake on the couch for the entire night, he was still astonished to find her there, circles beneath her eyes and now, staring at the TV screen, which was turned on, but muted.
"Um, good morning?" he said, finding his mouth stupid since such a questioning phrase wasn't simply correct in the realm of grammar. "Hi," She sighed, sliding down from the couch, then erecting herself on her feet and trudging to the table. She threw a pill into her mouth and sighed. "Another Monday. We're busy," "Um, actually, I have a few other plans. Can I just be exempted for today?" She gave him a confused look, but was soon to nod.
"I guess, but it relies on Thomas' decision. Just go and ask him-wait, he's still sleeping, so just call him up. If you do something else, he's gonna kill you since he thinks sleep is important. Miles has been beaten up numerous times before for that," "Gee, got it,"
He turned back to the stairs and then kicked open Thomas' door, just hoping that the other boy wouldn't be too grumpy to disagree to his request of an exemption.
Surrounded in a pile of worthless electronic gadgets and screwdrivers and papers, he was actually sleeping on the floor, snoring lightly and mouth open, drool slipping out, reminding Alex of Andrew, whom he quickly shook out of his head.
"Alright. Tom, get the heck up, please," Thomas rolled over and go himself over on a messy pile of papers and started to snore even loudly than before. Alex Mars could now understand how the impatient Miles had gotten himself beaten to near death before by trying to merely wake Thomas up.
"Get. The. Heck. Up. Thomas," He said, and very fortunately for him, the other boy managed to show that he wasn't 100% unconscious, for he closed his mouth and moved his brows. "Huh? What time is it?" Alex looked out the window and the angle of the shadows. "6: 10 or something. I need you to agree that I can be exempted and use your car," Damn, here comes the fuss, Alex moaned, a second before Thomas bolted up, eyes as big as golf balls, saliva hanging in a wild ball attached to his lip, swinging around from his motion. Even before Alex could make the word 'disgusting' in his head, the boy jumped onto his feet, blinking his eyes like 100 miles a second.
"What?" He hollered, and for poor Alex Mars, who had managed to keep his Muters Unmuted for the night, flinched. "Well, Alex, here are my rules-rule no. 1: we never exempt work. rule no.2: Thomas never lends his precious Chiron over to a guy who managed to get a priceless Lotus Evijah butt itself into the butts of three other cars inside a fire," Before his sentence was even finished, he twirled around(surprisingly with grace and perfectness-maybe, he had grown to get rid of morning sickness) and grabbed a set of keys-hell, his Chiron's keys,- Alex thought-and turned back to face him just when Alex heard someone coming up, and from the naturally quick pace, knew it was Melanie.
"Well, I let him do it, Tom. And he swore to pay back," She now stood, arms crossed and eyes beady from sleep, then stared at the set of keys gripped into Thomas' hand. "Uh-huh, exactly," Mars commented. Ok, even Thomas wouldn't be able to stand both of them and would give up his car for only that day...
"NO, with firm, two capital letters," Thomas' voice crackled and he grimaced before saying in a weaker tone. "What're you gonna use it for?" Alex's brows shot upon his forehead. "I'm gonna go to Lewis. Well, a simple phone call isn't gonna solve this," "Woah, Woah. So you found out the solution?" Though he was about to reply, he heard 4 feet walking up the stairs and decided to wait for them to proclaim-soon enough, Lyra and Miles came, looking annoyed at the tight talk the two were having from the start of the day.
"Yep," Alex said, then jutted his jaw at Melanie. "The documentary you showed, and the diary I collected at the house. It fit into a jigsaw puzzle to make sense," Though he could hear the brows and the sound of eyes becoming huge in Thomas' direction, he continued. "And guess what, the founder of the Mars civilization was the owner of the diary-and the more surprising thing is, the Martian is here on Earth-and that entry was from only a few months ago. And the whole thing says that Mars has plenty of food and everything on it," He didn't realize that he had been waving his hands for emphasis until his words ended.
"Uh-huh, uh-huh, right. So what?" Thomas asked glumly.
Fuck, Alex thought. Thomas' turning insane,
Jaw already on the ground, he turned to look at the others outside and inside the room, and, to his greatest relief, found the others also staring surprised holes into Thomas' eyes like mad, their jaws also on the ground, so he managed to fit his jaws together, then turned finally to Thomas.
"What?" The other boy asked, frustrated.
This was the first time when Alex snorted seriously in his life, at another Prod, at another Raider.
Tension flickered between them like electricity, like hell, like Jesus.
"Alright, we're stepping in," Lyra muttered, and Thomas sighed. "Alex Mars, there's no evidence that he still is the king of Mars, and he might be dead and-" 
"-and don't you have any hope? Is it so deprived in y'all?" Alex looked around the suddenly dead-silent room.
"Well, at least for me, and maybe the others without last names, are deprived of it," Thomas said, sighing.
Alex had expected that.
"Yeah, that has been obvious, Thomas. But appears that I'm not a person without a last name, though. Anyway, this is a waste of time, guys. I'm gonna go to Lewis anyway, so, seems like I'm going on foot," Thomas grunted.
"Um, if you promise you won't let my Chiron be demolished, I'll-" "Nah, Thomas. I can walk-we all have legs. Sorry for-" Mars looked at the floor covered of papers, a few of them stained with Thomas' drool. "-waking you up. I know I'm not the leader to play you around, but the rest of you can do whatever Thomas wants,"
He didn't know himself what had ordered his mouth to suddenly be disobedient and cruel, but then, realized-he had felt some urge, some stubbornness inside him that had suddenly awakened. He had been infuriated at Thomas' inactivity, absolute hate for America, and his lethargic mind.
For the first time inside the Rebels, he had felt that something had been wrong and non-cooperating with him.
-Or, to be precise, he had been clouded by pride and confidence for the Rebels to not feel any disharmony until then.

He walked out of the house at a measured pace-he knew, that the best way to be sarcastic and make the viewer regret their actions was to be indifferent and cruel when getting things done.
So, off in last night's clothes and hair, he went, walking 1.43 meters per second, the pace of a quick, full-grown 40-year-old. He had already memorized the path, and let the view of the gleaming Chiron glide away inside his vision and walked onto the sidewalk, though it would be much cooler to race on the road with the cars.
He thought he would get far in his rate before anyone stopped him(not that he was going to obey and stop). But he was wrong.
"Jesus Christ, Al. You walk fast," He didn't need to turn around to find Lyra quickly walking to catch up to him, arms swinging. "If you came here to haul me back home, you'll have to literally haul me," He said, eyes set towards the direction of the city. "Gee, but unfortunately, the thing is, Al, I didn't come here to haul you back. Just came to go to Lewis together," He wanted to stop, but they were still in the view of the house, so Thomas might see the action and think that he had calmed down-and he didn't want that, so kept walking, staring at Lyra's feet.
"Oh," That was all he could say there and then.
"Uh-huh," And that was all she had in the world to say back.
They kept walking.
"I never knew you could be this stubborn, Al," Lyra finally found out something else to say, eyes nailed to the pavement. "Well, I am, then, after all," "You're also, sometimes, a bit childish," Lyra kept observing. "Err, was that intended to be good or bad?" I don't know-maybe something in between. Like, 'bood' or 'gad'," "You're clearly joking. So when did you get the idea I am childish in a...gad way?"
A smirk jumped onto her face from the pavement before jumping away back onto the ground.
"I know I care about trivial things, and this is insane to remember, but... I thought you were pure like a child when you loved the sight of the moisture on the ground in front of the house that first Raiding day. Or, maybe I'm false-maybe, the only reason you said that word was because you had just experienced something near death to justify being amazed by the moisture, and now, you don't have the pureness with you anymore," "You're too observant-even as a Prodigy major," Alex Mars sniffed, suddenly riding on a flashback to a time a few days ago, when the moisture on the grass had looked like gold and treasure to him. He still felt overwhelmed and relieved when he thought of the memory and had to grin genuinely.
"I'm still childish and pure in the gad way-I'm still amazed by the moisture on the grass because either the memory of death is still very clear, or I am gadly childish and pure by nature,"
"-and you utilize new vocabulary words very well, Alex," She gave him one more observation report-though this one had entailed a short laugh of her at the first part-before they reached the main center of the city and started walking to the headquarters directly.

Lewis Nobody was, once more, at the control room, eyes staring at the live CCTV cameras.
"Hey, Lewis," Lyra said, and the blad man replied glumly. "For Jesus' sake, Lyra-oh, and Alex! Things are fast. The government officials seem to have gone from crazy to insane, food is running out-knowing that, the minors aren't even getting out of their offices and houses to line up outside the burnt Food Store building. Wait, you gotta see this,"
Like yesterday, the guy clicked and pressed the screen, and up came a CCTV recorded video, located more near the interior of the country.
Alex Mars could only stare.
Crowds of people roamed the streets in a giant stream of people, all along the streets, hands raised, silent, and marching, eyes glaring as if they wanted to get out of hell so much. Meanwhile, military police prodded back with hands, equivalent glares, the ends of their metal guns and other sticks, some looking astonished, while the others seemed annoyed, trying to act as if nothing big was happening, but in reality, something big was happening, so they inevitably were prodding back the people into their homes while walking by as if unconcerned. But that wasn't the biggest thing Mars' eyes widened at, not at all.
It was the tiny sound that was coming from the speaker of the screen, recorded well by the CCTV camera.
The people weren't silent. They were actually chanting in a low voice steadily, as if they were just murmuring a prayer for Jesus before eating a meal. But prayers ended all the time so that the utterers would eat and fill their hungry guts.
But this chant was different.
It went on... forever.
And what were they chanting so avidly of?
His name and Andrew's name and other phrases.
God, dear God, he thought as they chanted, faces desperate.
"Alex Mars."
"Andrew Stewart."
"Down with the military."
"Fuck to those who killed'em."
They whispered and muttered, glaring holes into the metal steel of the guns that were pointed at them, steps surprisingly precise and cooperative with each other as a whole like Prods. They formed a huge wave, made up of fists and hands holding flyers moving up and down, undulating.
"Wow," Lyra finally said beside him, then stared at him as if surprised. "Wow indeed," Alex Mars replied, then felt a sensation inside him, stirred up and rising like a deep heat inside his chest, making his breath shallow. He swallowed back a lump-ah, it had been months since I had felt this... he thought.
But this time, he didn't want to hide it-anyway, why did he have to? He was crying because of the people, for their hearts, for their stupidity but also their humble empathy inside, equivalent or greater in size, and for himself, and lastly... for Andrew. His death was finally being felt and realized of significance by the people...
"I can't believe it, Lyra," He said, voice trembling as if the video had plucked his string and he was now vibrating like crazy. "How did they find out about Andrew's death and me?" "Andrew's parents seem to have had spread it online-that their son returned months earlier than expected, body cold, clearly shot by a bullet in the chest. And, I searched for everything online before you came-your parents also decided to write about the...tests they went through themselves after you got expatriated," Lewis reported, eyes stuck on the protestors.
His heart had been running with warm water, but now, in seconds, it froze in motion.
"Shit. Tests? What do you mean?" He demanded-this had been what he had feared the most...
"The same tests you went through. Fortunately, your parents were very used to such stuff, they said on their blog, maybe thanks to having a Prodigy son, so they survived out of it-and realized that their son must have also been killed or expatriated thanks to the tests. Look at this," he now handed Alex Mars his phone, sighing.
He was now looking at a blog with his parents' names written on the top, then his own name scribbled beneath, as if to commemorate him.
He coughed, reading their name out loud in his head in months.
And below, were the terrifying but also amazing reports.

There could have been no other reason for me and my wife, Stephanie to have been transported to a center to be tested-sound, vision, endurance, a general, and a few young soldiers about our son's age in front of us all the while, glaring. We survived, friends. And at the same time, survived and birthed two realizations in our hearts: 1, our son had gotten killed like Andrew Stweart, his colleague at the military. 2, no matter how we'd be treated, we hate this current government.
My son's greatest complaint from the age of merely 5 had been the fact that I had had to plant a Muter, a device to Mute out his prodigious features of being able to do everything quickly and be good at hearing, inside his brain to get him living like normal. And now, I regret it. Things would have turned out the same way even if I hadn't done it, anyway. I'm so sorry for my son, for everything he had to pay for a mistake I made. Me and Steph have been fools till now, trying to justify and make the gov of now true and humble. We have been glad when Alex gradually got into the military and managed to survive it for months until now-and it had all been worthless. We had fallen in for the trap of allurement set up by the gov and the military.
We need change, people, and right now. Or do you want to stay caught in the trap till the hunters come to clean our remains away?
The most important thing right now for me and Steph, is Alex, and reform of the country. We're desperate for it, and we would work for it, no matter how we'd end up-dead, or alive.
Plus, we believe Alex is alive. He has never been the quitting type and never would be, we know.
If anyone has the same confidence as me and Steph, leave in the comments-especially, if you're not afraid of government retaliation.
We want to save our son, people.
Don't let'em brainwash y'all.

He took deep breathes, then took a bit more.
Since that was all he could do-even his throat wouldn't work for him, not even letting him emit a tiny croak.
"Oh, Al...Wait, we have to check out the comments," He nodded at Lyra, breath rolling out on itself from his mouth in shaky pushes.
There were a total of 2,643 happy votes for the post.
And there was only a single comment on the box, though.
"Gee," Lyra grunted before taking a deep breath and tapping on the (1) in comments.
If the input before this, the protests, the chants, the unfair treatment his parent had gotten, the heart-throbbing blog post, had melted him down completely after years into a soft, dull human form, this one crushed the remaining remnant of his solid heart completely.
It was a single comment from the Martyr.

I know u don't know me and would also be quite surprised at how i got involved in Alex's life somehow, but, i'm up for it, peeps.

Then, below it, he had left his phone number.
The three remained silent for 5 minutes, eyes wandering back to the post, the number of votes, and the comment.
Finally, once more, it was Lyra, who was the smartest and quickest, who had managed to say something in the end.
"Seems like your life you told me of yesterday night is turning at last clicking back from 'ethically wrong' to 'right', Al,"
Hell, yes, Alex's voice finally managed to slide out of him from inside his brain, and once more, just to ensure and try to elminate the doubt which had unprecedented intensity, that the thing going on the huge screen in front of him was true after all, he turned his gaze to the grainy screen and video, hearing his name and Andrew's being chanted over and over like a never-ending echo.