Orb for the Sky

The streets were teaming with black-clad soldiers and civilians in all their metallic, many-colored gowns. Despite the variety, I stood out dramatically in my dark red battle gear. I tried to blend in, focusing on the swaying rhythms of movement and doing my best to match them. It had worked on the side streets, but I could feel more and more eyes glancing my way. The city was turning against me.

There was a breaking point. I was nearing the decisive moment when I could sprint headlong instead of delaying and hiding. I inched closer, every step, every breath, chipping away at the remaining distance. I could feel myself nearing the edge. My toes dug into the crumbled pavement of this ancient place and my whole body buzzed with the knowledge that the hours of tense buildup were about to be redirected towards all-out exertion.

I leaned forward, my hand diving into a pocket for a shatter grenade. I began by sprint, launching the small, heavy orb skyward. I ducked my hood further over my head as I wove through the press of the crowd. At least one of the soldiers saw it fly into the air.

The grenade didn’t go off. It clattered to the ground behind me. My sprint, so confident seconds ago, died inside of me. I tried to shove through the crowd to make my checkpoint, but the rhythm was all wrong now. I felt myself slowing. The soldiers, already shouting into their mics, closed in, lances raised.