The planet of Shamonj watched the Hake Leader intently.

  He had slid over a hundred feet down a steep tunnel marred with clumps of igneous rock. The tunnel emptied into a great, wide chamber plastered with stalactites dripping acid into long pools only a few inches deep, one of which his body lay in. A vein of lava coursed through a ditch to his right, filling the cave with a dim, orange glow before cascading like a waterfall into a pit too deep to imagine. The light was enough for the video-hornet that had followed him into the chamber to broadcast the gruesome scene to the world, though the hornet had a small pinlight that would have otherwise sufficed. Rimdar’s front was soaked with blood and bruises to the point of being unrecognizable. His back lay in the acid that was eating away his clothes and skin. Every once in a while, large flame bursts leapt from the deeper chambers of the Pit, but he was low enough to the ground that they raced past him and upwards until they died out. The video-hornet was programmed to stay as far away as possible–those bursts were deadly. Occasionally, though, it swooped in for a closer look. It took some images of the acid eating his wrinkled skin and clothes, and reported the temperature: 149 degrees: almost enough to render the hornet itself inoperable.

  The Sheeks across Shamonj rejoiced at the news of his fate, then moved on to other things, forgetting him as quickly as they'd forgotten Quinn and Mahoj and all those before.

  But then, on the morning of the third day, an amazing thing! Everywhere, news stations switched to the live feed and the planet watched in amazement. Rimdar was moving! It had been almost imperceptible at first… a finger. Then a hand. But there was no denying it. The Hake Leader was slowly pulling himself forward, out of the acid pool and onto higher ground. Finally, he began to crawl.

  His eyes burned like fire; he wished he could pull them out and cast them into the lava beside him, but knew that he needed them. His body screamed in pain with every breath he drew, and his bones cried out for him to give up and collapse. The acid gnawed at his flesh, creating intricate designs as it fed upon his arm plates. He slowly pulled himself to a kneeling position. He yearned for water. Just one drop, he wished. One drop to cool my tongue. It hurt to move, but he had to. He’d woken from the Xenonite pills an hour ago, and it had taken this long just to work up the strength to move his arms. The heat would kill him if he stayed here much longer. If not that, then the acid would. He clawed his way out of the pool he’d fallen into. Thank the Xenonites for the pills. If only I could have seen Xenon, where such miracles are manufactured.

  With pain shooting up and down his legs, he began to pull himself along the chamber with his arms. Why me? Why did I have to be picked, of all the Sheeple in the world, to be the one to carry out this task? And yet, he knew. Because I understand what is happening–what will happen to them if I don’t do this. He pulled himself another few feet along the ground, shielding his head when the flame bursts erupted, scarring his exposed back. It hurt. Oh, it hurt. Even with the pills, even with the training, even with the Xenonite life extension drugs coursing through his body, the pain was terrible. Unimaginable pain is bad, but imaginable pain–real pain–is worse. Minutes passed like days, but on he crawled. Each moment he wished he could roll over and fall into the pool of lava. Yet at the same time, he hated and feared it; dared not give in to its tempting. Occasionally, he rested, peering into the red foam. This is where he needed his eyes. Finally, around noon that third day, he saw it. The video-hornet detected an anomaly in the lava as well, and turned its gaze out to the seething mass of red, molten rock that looked so similar to the new Shamonjian sky. The entire planet saw as well, gasping as one as the image came into focus. Floating in the lava, bobbing up and down without a care in the world… was the Green Chair.

  * * * * * * * *

  Ali stared at the screen with his mouth hanging open.

  “This is impossible. Absolutely impossible.” But, there it was on the Prison video feed. And on half the networks on the planet. Heck, probably all of them. It undermined the entire system… here he was, the top prison guard of the Sheek Authority, and he couldn’t dispose of a four-legged stool. He’d been ordered to demolish it, remove every last trace of its green wantonness. It had resisted a dozen other attempts to destroy it, but he never dreamed it would survive this. At the very least, it could have bobbed around there for millennia. That would have been fine. No one would have bothered it; it would have bothered no one. But now? The mysterious super-weapon of the Hakes was sitting there, on the screen of every television in Shamonj. And the Hake Leader was crawling towards it.

  Jumping from his chair, he flew to his radio. “Garqu! Norgal! Where did you bums go? Someone cut the signal from that hornet! We cannot have this broadcast to the entire planet. Our job is at stake here!”

  Norgal rushed into the room. “What's going on?” He glanced at the main screen up on the wall. “Oh my gosh! Is that…”

  “Yes! It’s the green chair! And the entire planet is going to think we let the Hake have it! And that Hake should be dead, so they know we botched that job as well. He’s almost to it! Kill the line!”

  “Umm… where’d Garqu go? He took the video board with him.”

  Ali stared. “Took the video board? What ever for? This is ridiculous! What a nightmare. Well there's got to be another one around here…” Parts of the control room were flying left and right. Norgal ducked to get out of the way.

  “There's only one, sir.”

  “So where's Garqu?”

  “I have no idea. He took off in a hurry with it. Should I go—”

  “Yes, go! Track him down! Have him cut the feed!”

  Norgal dashed out the door.

  Ali collapsed into a chair, watching the drama unfold. Rimdar had stopped crawling. No sign of Norgal or Garqu. Where are those lazy guards? He stared at the screen, captivated.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Rimdar sat beside a lava pool, fiddling with something. What’s that? Ali stared in horror. From between the ropes that bound his arms, the Hake pulled a small, black object. He was searched thoroughly! He could not possibly have brought that with him! Ali recalled the events of the day Rimdar arrived. After we searched everyone for weapons, Garqu helped tie the prisoner’s hands. I saw something black flash in the ball of rope he was holding. I thought nothing of it… figured it was my imagination. But come to think of it, that wasn't plastic rope. Wasn’t it tallgrass twine? Where in Seoltin did he get tallgrass twine? They don’t sell that junk here; it’s only used by farmers and Wanderers. His eyes rolled wildly from the image on the screen to the hallway outside. Later, Garqu suggested we throw Rimdar into chamber seven instead of the one our computer recommended. His eyes widened in horror. The same one as the Green Chair! Was that Garqu’s intention?

  “Garqu!” Ali jumped up and fled into the hallway screaming.

  * * * * * * * *

  Hans stood in the Central Plaza of Talmyn among a crowd of Sheeple beneath a dark red sky filled with ominous black clouds and peals of thunder, staring up at a video screen on the wall of the Talmyn Mercantile Bank. Every vendor and shopper had stopped what they were doing to stare at the screen that typically streamed commodities prices and the weather, but now displayed the breaking news coming out of Seoltin.

  All across Shamonj, mused Hans, they are seeing the same thing as us. No one understands what is happening.

  Economic activity froze as the eyes of the world watched the Hake Leader. The bindings around his arms slipped off as if they were nothing, and from them he produced a small, black box. His face grimaced with pain as he pulled from it something like an antenna. The video-hornet zoomed in on the box, but the picture was fuzzy and the device strange. It resembled a small walkie-talkie, perhaps. But Rimdar was not talking to it. He was just stabbing at it, trying to push buttons with his sore, blistered hands. Again and again, he looked out at the green chair bobbing in a lake of deep lava about fifty feet away. His head then collapsed, and he slumped to the ground. A blast of fire shot out, licking at him with thirst. Another flame shot towards the camera. The video-hornet was shaken, tried to back away…

  The screen went bright orange, then black. What was going on miles beneath the city of Seoltin was barred from the world. Hans held his breath in fear as he stood, eyes glued to the black screen, wondering if the picture would return.

  The Green Chair. Touted as the super-weapon of the Hakes by the Sheek Authority. Yet, there doesn’t seem to be a Hake on the planet who knew what it was for… a dismal Quinn-era relic, if nothing else. Does Rimdar know? He was asking for it… so he must. But why did he not say what it did, for I might have given it to him when I had the chance. Instead I waited, fearing he would use it for evil… and now I am the cause of his suffering.

  Hans could make no sense of it. Was the Leader finally going to use the weapon, destroying the Sheeks for once and all? Would the Sheek Authority come collapsing down with the city of Seoltin in one final explosion? Could that be why Rimdar had been brought there? Hans shuddered. Rimdar perhaps would yet save the Hakes! The destruction of Seoltin and millions of the highest ranking Sheeks… that would surely be the end of the Sheek Authority!

  He stared at the black screen in wonder, then snapped to attention as he felt the ground trembling beneath him…

  * * * * * * * *

  “Ali, where are you?” Norgal was calling over the radio.

  “In the prisoners’ wing,” huffed Ali, out of breath. “I also checked the basement and roof. No sign of him. How ‘bout you?”

  “I’m in the control room, and I have bad news. The doors to the chambers opened.”

  “Well close them!”

  “Too late. According to the log, they opened and shut a few minutes ago, one at a time. The last one just closed near the main entrance.”

  Ali sighed and raced back towards the front of the prison. “You guard the control room! We can’t let him cause any more chaos. I’ll go after him.”

  As he flung open the prison door and stepped outside, he heard a flyr roaring away. Where it had come from and where it was going he had no idea, but somehow he knew Garqu was in it. Ali shook his head as he watched it disappear to the south. “He can’t get far. We’ll shoot him down! I'll alert the Army. We'll find that spy and he will pay dearly!”

  His thoughts turned to Rimdar. What is he doing down there? Or did he make it onto that flyr? No! That's impossible! He's miles below the ground behind twenty sealed gates! Garqu couldn't have gotten him out of there in these few minutes!

  Ali was pulling out his radio to call the army when the ground began to shake. He fell, grabbing at what he could to stabilize himself. The soil lurched and careened below him. He stared in horror as the skyscrapers around him wobbled dangerously. Suddenly, the sky lit up from a brilliant flash of lightning, brighter than any that had plagued the planet the last few months. Yet, it was not hot… rather… it almost felt cool, and stretched on in time, prolonged. Odd, so odd. The sky seemed to recede like a scroll, and Ali gasped as the sun itself trembled. Fiercely resounding booms echoed below the ground and above the heavens. Ali knew the sky couldn’t possibly have shaken, yet could scarcely find a better word to describe what he was witnessing.

  The ground and sky rolled some more, though not as violently. The booming continued, this time louder… and louder. The sun itself was shifting in the sky. Shifting? I am going mad! Ali shook his head to clear his thoughts. But no… both the sun and star were definitely moving across the red sky. He felt like a reed, tossed in the sea of fate, battered by things far greater than he. A fierce wind picked up from the west, blowing a green leaf past him. He had not seen a green leaf in years. Is this happening only in Seoltin? In all of The Sheeks' Land? Or even further? He had no way to know. He’d forgotten about calling the Army, and knelt, watching the sky in awe.

  There was another brilliant flash of light and more thundering. The sun scintillated wildly. A tall building collapsed in the distance, and Ali saw smoke rising over the eastern end of Seoltin. Behind him, the walls of the Prison were crumbling, but he still stared upwards, afraid most of all of the horrific white star throbbing ominously beside a shaking sun. The blood red sky was boiling now, churning and seething like a stew gone awry with no one to stir it. Another brilliant flash of light… this one didn't end. The entire sky was coated white; the sun was lost in the glare, the redness bled out. Ali couldn't see due to the blinding radiance. The city fell suddenly silent. For a full minute, the thundering and rumbling ceased. Every being on the entire planet of Shamonj could see no more than a few feet in the dazzling light. It was the strangest sensation Ali had ever felt; being blind and yet in such illumination.

  Eventually, the light began to fade. Or were his eyes becoming more sensitive? Ali didn’t know. The air smelled strange, like mud in the spring. He took a breath. Oxygen poured into his lungs. He couldn’t remember the last time the air had tasted so pure. As the light diminished, the sun returned: a brilliant orange-gold, set like a fiery gem in the clear Shamonjian sky.

  Ali stared at the sky in disbelief. Clear! It spread from one horizon to the other, a beautiful orange color, pure and unadulterated. The black clouds were gone. The great white star was nowhere to be seen. The air was cleaner than he'd ever seen it. A faint breath of wind ran past, fresh and sweet. Ali could handle it no longer. He crashed forward to the ground like a toppled giant. Prostrate beneath the open sky, he wept, tears soaking the cracked concrete. His thoughts came aloud, but they were not Sheek thoughts, nor were they Hake.

  “Surely this one is our Leader, come to save the world from its death.” Ali cried in shame as Hake prisoners streamed through the broken walls of the prison, gathering to stare at the sky of orange crystal.

  On a nearby gable, a sparrow sang and the prisoners joined in chorus.