The Inception (Book #1 of The Inception Trilogy)

chapter twenty

CHAPTER TWENTY

MICAH WATCHES AS HIS former ally leaves the pathetic excuse of a camp with his supposed new allies. There's an anger knotting in the pit of his stomach for a reason he's unsure of. His hands clench at his sides, his eyes narrow. Time and time again 748 has entangled himself in business that doesn't concern him, and time and time again Micah has had to bend to his every wish with the irritating knowledge of his power. Micah is by no means weak, but 748 had been the first success and no one has been able to challenge him and rise triumphantly. The most annoying part of it all is that 748 doesn't appreciate all the strength that was given to him.

If only the two were still a duo, still thicker than thieves. Having 748 on his side would make him invincible and it would speed up this entire ordeal. They could have the humans under their thumb faster than they could blink. They could have the world to themselves, controlling those who had always controlled them. They could get their revenge, get the acknowledgement they've always deserved.

Why can't 748 see that?

Micah's eyes flit to the girl 748 clearly cares enough about to break his vow of silence. Micah can't deny she's special. Either that or incredibly stupid. No one has ever stood up against him like she had, and he has to give her credit for it. However foolishly brave or genuinely fearless she may be, she might be his ticket to gaining his friend back. The thought causes a faint smirk to curl his lips.

"Spike," he snaps, instantly flanked by his second right-hand man. "Get two of our stealthiest men and have them follow. Cautiously. One slip up, and he won't miss it. But I want to know his every move, everywhere he goes."

Spike nods firmly. The "he" doesn't have to be specified.

"Meet us back at the campus as soon as you're finished. Hopefully Blaze had some luck with our little friend," he adds, earning one more nod. He turns back to face the small army he brought with intentions to seize Quincy's camp, and his anger flares once more at the reminder of his failure. "Let's head back. You half-wits weren't ready for a mission after all."

He's glad to see the hurt on some of their faces. Maybe they won't allow failure next time.

But he's dedicated and prepared to shape these so-called men into unstoppable soldiers. A war is inevitable when you're trying to take over an entire nation. For now, though, it's baby steps. First the state, then the neighboring states, and the allies from across the country will help with the rest. It'll be a tedious process, but a necessary one. Every enemy that plans to fight back needs to be subdued, and that especially will take some time.

Time he's willing to spend.

Because they took the time to subdue him. He had no choice, no preparation. A life was thrown onto him without the option of refusal or harmless questions. You didn't speak out of line or you paid for it. You didn't title yourself as equals or the staff would do everything in their power to torture you into believing differently. There was no chance to fight back, unlike now where the normals are given an unfair advantage. He wishes he could strip their lives away as fast as they did to him.

He wishes he could inflict all the pain and suffering he's ever endured, which is an alarming amount, and hand it off to them just as fiercely. Don't they deserve it after everything they've done? Are his actions not justified for revenge? Is it so wrong to want the dictators to be belittled into nothing, just like they had made him feel? Yes, they do deserve it. Yes, it is justified. No, it isn't wrong at all. Soon they'll all know what it really means to be trapped with no way out, not even the slightest hint of an escape. They'll feel it shuddering their spine, trembling their hands, awakening their darkest fears.