The Sun Is the Sun

"I came to let you know the rules."

Carl's voice echoed as it struck the marble colonnades, yet it was like a stone falling into a deep pool—there was no expected splash, only an eerie silence.

The Psycho Squad members stood where they were. Their breathing rose and fell beneath their riot masks, like a group of rusted machines struggling to start.

Their silence lasted too long.

Long enough for the faint scrape of standard-issue boots against the floor to be heard, long enough to see the magazines on their tactical vests trembling slightly. These killing machines that had once terrified entire districts now seemed as though someone had pressed pause. From every body came the grinding noise of gears catching as they thought.

They were like students facing a difficult problem set by a teacher, carefully considering Carl's words with the brains that had once gone mad.

Even though Carl's meaning was already perfectly clear, leaving them with practically nothing to think about.

They all understood what Carl meant.

When Carl said they needed to know the rules, he meant that from now on, they were all to obey the new special commissioner—Andy.

But that did not fit with their original plans.

Their original plan had been that even if they had to wear shackles again, they would at least retain a certain degree of freedom. Yet from what Carl was saying now, the new special commissioner would bind them just as tightly as the previous one had—perhaps even tighter, choking their throats harder than before.

How could they possibly accept that?

Such a perfect opportunity—every one of them had tacitly agreed not to report for duty so that the shackles around their necks could loosen a little. Yet Carl had arrived, and not only would they not loosen,