The wind on the bridge had stopped.
President Morgan Cross stood there. Blood stains lay near his feet. The railing of the bridge was broken. Below—an endless abyss.
The soldiers stood silently. No one said a word.
The president slowly turned around. A smile formed at the corner of his lips. It grew wider and wider. A low, deep laugh escaped from his throat. Then it turned into loud laughter.
The bridge seemed to tremble with it.
While laughing, the president said,
"See? This is power. This is real strength."
The soldiers kept their heads down.
The president stopped laughing and looked up at the sky. Then he whispered,
"Now let's see… when you arrive."
Who would arrive? The soldiers could not understand.
The president walked back toward the palace. His footsteps echoed across the bridge. That sound mixed with the distant roar of the river far below.
Behind him remained only the stains of blood.
And a small doll—the blue doll Zakia had made with her own hands—lying in one corner of the bridge. The wind came and pushed the doll over the edge.
It disappeared below forever.
Three days later.
Morning light filled the palace of Imolodia. President Morgan Cross sat in his office. A glass of wine rested before him. There was no regret in his eyes. Only satisfaction.
On the table in front of him sat a small projector. It was not an ordinary projector—it was a holographic communication system. Through it, he stayed in contact with the seven people who were the true rulers of this country.
A knock sounded on the door.
"Enter."
General Crane walked in. He saluted and stood still.
The president said,
"What news?"
The general replied,
"Sir, we found no one in the abyss below the bridge. The current is very strong. Everything has been swept away. They will not return."
The president spoke calmly,
"I know. From today, their existence is only a memory."
The general lowered his head.
Just then, the projector on the table lit up. A blue glow filled the room. The president looked at the general and said,
"You may leave now."
The general walked out. As soon as the door closed, three holograms appeared from the projector—three figures dressed in black. Their faces were unclear, but their presence made the room feel heavy.
One of them said,
"Cross. Give your report."
The president stood up. His voice was respectful.
"Masters, everything is under control. The problem named Mumin has been eliminated. He was thrown from the bridge. His body has been carried away by the current."
The second one said,
"We know. We see everything. But where is the anti-matter technology?"
The president replied,
"It is almost complete. The Foreign Minister of United Ameron came and gave a deadline of seven days. I will hand it over to him."
The third one laughed—a rough, harsh laugh.
"Hand it over? Do you think that technology belongs to them? They are only our tools. We want that technology in our hands."
The president froze.
"But Masters… United Ameron… they are so powerful that—"
The first one interrupted him.
"They are powerful? They are powerful because we made them powerful. Just as we made you powerful. Remember? Once you were only a small soldier. We made you the president. We create whoever we want. And whoever we do not want—we destroy."
The president's face turned pale. He knew it was true.
The second one said,
"The anti-matter technology must come to us. You will give it to them first. Then we will take it from them. The game will continue."
The president lowered his head.
"I understand. Everything will happen according to your will."
The holograms disappeared. The room returned to darkness.
The president sat there alone. Tears filled his eyes. He whispered,
"I am only a puppet. Always a puppet. The president of a country, yet nothing more than someone's toy."
Seven days later.
The large conference hall of the Imolodia palace. President Cross stared at a metal case placed on the table. Inside it was everything—the anti-matter technology's documents, designs, codes—the complete documentation.
Sitting across from him was Jonathan Rice. Two bodyguards stood behind him.
Rice said,
"I knew you were intelligent. You know how to make the right decision at the right time."
The president slowly pushed the case forward.
"Here. All the documentation. The complete process of creating anti-matter."
Rice opened the case and flipped through a few pages. Then he smiled.
"Excellent. United Ameron will remember your cooperation."
He stood up. The bodyguards picked up the case.
As Rice walked toward the door, he stopped and turned around.
"President Cross. You know very well that this technology never truly belonged to you. Or to your country. It belonged to us. Always to us. We simply had you build it. Now we have taken it. Your country has once again become what it was before—a small, weak nation. But don't worry—as long as you remain loyal to us, you will remain president."
The president said nothing. He simply kept his head down.
Rice left.
The hall was empty now. The president was alone. Tears filled his eyes. He knew—he was only a puppet. Yet even as a puppet, he had to survive. Because he had no other path.
That night, in a quiet corner of the palace, President Cross sat alone. The projector rested on the table. He knew that at any moment the holograms could appear again. They were watching everything. They knew everything.
He looked up at the sky and whispered,
"Father… did you know what I have become? Did you know I became someone else's puppet?"
No one answered.
Only the wind moved.
In that wind, no name floated back. Not Musa. Not Mumin. They had been lost forever in the river's current.
Outside the palace, night had fallen. Soldiers stood guard. The people of the city slept. No one knew that on this night, the fate of Imolodia had been sealed.
And somewhere, on the bank of an unknown river, a small doll had drifted and become caught in the roots of a tree. A blue doll—the one Zakia had made. Now it lay there alone.
A boatman looked at the doll for a moment, thinking something quietly.
Then he pushed it back into the current.
Everything is lost to the current.
Everything.