The stage had been completed before noon, and by the time the sun shifted above the gray rooftops of Sector 11, people from the Capital had already arrived.
As expected, the square no longer belonged to the sector.
Red-armored guards stood in two perfectly straight lines between the stage and the crowd, their polished armor reflecting pale daylight like blood-colored metal. Each of them carried sleek rifles held across their chests, helmets hiding their faces completely so that none of them looked human anymore—only identical symbols of force sent by the Capital.
This time the order had been absolute.
Every resident of Sector 11 had been summoned.
No excuses.
No staying home.
No remaining in the mines.
Because of that, the square had become more crowded than Tyler had ever seen.
