By JKolasch
The command room was a flurry of activity. Soldiers, Conduits, and police were running back and forth between the General, Commissioner, and Magister. Live satellite feeds, maps, videos, and Damp Field indicators flickered across the screens. In the middle of the room, the leaders gathered around a large desk, a digital map of New Brooklyn sprawling across it, with dozens of red lines running outside of the city.
“It’s too late to think about evacuation. Over half the city is dark, and skirmishes are everywhere. Every time one ends, another pops up somewhere. Those pale bastards are everywhere.”
“Then what do you suggest we do, General? Allow civilians to be massacred with no hope? No chance?” Commissioner Wallace’s arms were crossed tightly over his heavily decorated jacket.
General Matthias tapped on the screen, and pulled up a feed of New Harlem. It was desolate and barren. Burning rubble and debris filled the screen. So did bodies. Arms, legs, hands. Not attached to anything. Carnage and blood littered the ruined section.
“I know what happened in New Harlem, General. Why are you showing me this?” Wallace covered his mouth with his hand and turned away.
“That,” Matthias said, switching from feed to feed, showing more and more death and carnage, “was a victory. The Conduits won there, remember?” He glowered at Magister Rochester.
Continue reading “The Fall of New Brooklyn, Day Two, 5:47pm”