A hundred and fifty thousand people die every day in the world. There are roughly sixty million deaths every year. Our understanding of the concept of death subsidises through time, and as we grow older, we accept death as being part of life. Every smile is fake and every laugh is a fraud. Where do these statistics come from?
One girl lived up to her name, because from the top of the highest mountain, it is possible to see every place and every person. Every aspect of their life, their identity. Genova grew up understanding that death was a tool to completely beat a person. Utterly. An absolute victory, factual and true.
Genova makes up those statistics. She engineers those numbers. By controlling the numbers, the situation remains stable. Because the situation remains stable, people think it is the fault of famine, that old foe. Heart attack. Ageing. War. They would never come up with the terrifying idea that Genova turns up those numbers to regulate public opinion.
Ismael and Raven are in a restaurant, taking a break from the exhausting investigation. Flash news on the television of the bar, an anxious news reporter, jacket off, sweating, stares dead in the camera lens.
"We just have been informed that fourteen Cressenie children survivors from the recent devastation have been taken hostage in the east of the Mingway desert."
"That's on the north east of Nara."
"I know. She's doing it on purpose."
Genova has a horrifying smile on her face, pride, amusement, love for terror, eyes wide.
"Here we stand before God. One salute, one nation. We stand for the only flag we know, the casket. Today we send angels back to their homeland in paradise. Lord take them as we sway the enemy at the glorious borders. Make sure our hands join in bless and blood. For we gather in your name, for tomorrow it will be fifteen children. Amen."
As she finishes her blasphemous prayer, she shoots the kid in front of her. All of the other kids have black bags on their heads but they know what just happened. Ismael looks at Raven, livid.
"This is getting too much, Isma."
"She clearly wants us to find her as soon as possible. Genova showing her face to the world is a bargain, even for her. The actual public opinion matters way too much for a narcissistic monster. She wants attention but also respect, and if she can't have both, she'll just lose her mind even more. All of the people here are already spewing their food out."
Two arms come from behind, and long brown hair from a wig come to hug Ismael from the left side.
"You'll find out I can also control public opinion. The footage you just saw on tv was a recording. Now the local army is going to go look at that specific place and get blown up. There's enough explosives in that rock foundation to take down half of C.Y. Lens. Hey, Ismael. Do you think I'm pretty like this?"
"I have a wife, and she does not approve of your ways. You will be stopped, Gennie. One way or another."
"I'm the one in control, Mael. Always was, always will be. Let them. Let them watch, in anticipation. Thinking this is it. "Ladies and gentlemen, we got her." And everybody claps. Then the cameras show the last second of the lives of all these people present at the scene. I get my guns out and reveal my identity. Kill everyone and leave with yet another success. And what will you do? Gamble your way out? Ask nicely? Perhaps will you beg?"
"There is a way out. And we already have it. It's true you're frighteningly smart. But I'm always backed up."
"Raven is in my range."
"Who said anything about Raven? Theigon, drop her", Ismael commanded, leaning his head hard on the bar counter. The sniper, on the other bar in front of this one, shoots her brains out.
"Check id."
"I keep getting outsmarted. She sent someone else to die for her. She's still alive somewhere!"
"There is no possible way in Gehenna she pulled that off! Everybody! Out! Leave the bar!"
"Do you think the citizens will be safer outside, Raven?"
"I don't care about them, I need space and comfort to think. Too many people. Tell Theigon to keep an eye on his surroundings, she might be in there already."
"Can somebody else other than you control the orbital strike?"
"Impossible, you would need voice authentification, retinal scanner and fingerprint dna. She doesn't have any of that. But the second she does, it's game over."
"That's not exactly her way to go around, though, is it?"
"You're the one who asked, Isma. She's going to keep intensifying the attacks and the insanity of her tricks until she gets what she wants."
Tv keeps going in the back.
"This, is what I want. A world war. A war against me alone. All remaining world leaders will be safe until tomorrow midnight sharp. You have a little bit more than twenty-four hours to make a decision and announce it on every news station on the planet. Twenty-four hours. After all, that's the diplomatic procedure after someone dies. Right, Gloria?"
"Ismael, think straight", Raven asks, holding in her hands the remote control device to turn back on the explosive of his necklace.
"I'm fine. I can't stand her anymore. I thought she was just insane but it's more than that. This is personal. This is all directed at us. We'll be part of this war. I'll slice her throat myself."
"She's probably thinking I'll use my orbital strike. But I won't. I wanted to get rid of the lower lifeforms who sent us to Nara. And teach you a lesson, too, admittedly, but that's the past. My little Blitzkrieg is not a toy. It stations in orbit, absorbing sun radiations to power up. On the moment I activate it, it charges by an additional fourty-five pourcent, causing the machine to go overload. That sudden arrival in power is what triggers an overheat, and automatically uses that bonus of power to send a radiated heated sun ray laser blast on a specific target. Destroying all human life on a city-level perimeter. No survivors. The machine then enters a cooldown timeframe and silently reloads in space. She's not able to use that."
"She has different tricks up her sleeves. Think. Most people would try to hide inside government buildings and retail stores to stock up on food and home supplies."
"That's the second step of her world war, isn't it? First was financial, second is social climate. Governments can't ignore protests for too long especially if they are too fierceful. This time they might be protesting for their respective governments to send soldiers to a later-given place. The thing is, military operations of that caliber require so much manpower that in return, society, honest law-abiding, taxpayer citizens, will have to give up their homes to go fight. Meaning some of the volunteers will be underqualified and Genova knows that. Killing those poor people who don't even know the first thing about war and real combat tactics will be easy to kill, that will either satisfy her ego or destroy it. She's pushed herself into a potential mistake for the first time."
"You're right. What is the third step of societal compliance?"
"There is no third step, she doesn't need that. I'll take the best sleep of my life after this is done. Question is, what will you do, Ismael?"
"I'll find Basil. We'll talk. Maybe. But you're right, sleeping it off sounds amazing right now."
"Back to the hotel?"
"After you."