John was sitting in the small command room, facing a holographic table, wondering about the civil war. Blue and red light shaded his face, submerging his emotions and feelings behind the cold barrier, depriving happiness, sympathy, felicity, despair, fear, and hesitation, from his body, his soul. 

Everything was in silence, in the darkness, except the faint sound of gunfire passing from the distance. Under the dim moonlight, a huge board was hanging on the wall, with the words “Freedom, Equality, Justice.” A small water tank, the home of a fish, stood in the corner. John squatted down, facing the small water tank, watching the small golden fish diving deep in the water, like a taxus leaf trembling in the cold autumn. The fish had laid in a shallow puddle, waiting for death to fall behind, and John took it back for no reason, even though water was a scarce resource three years ago. 

Knock, knock. John’s mind was pulled back. A man went inside, with a handgun on his belt and two small boxes in his hands. John was not surprised by his arrival. He stood up and faced the man with his glasses.

“What’s going on, Mathew?” 

The man put one of the boxes on the table: “I’ve just confirmed the information from our scientists, and we’ve got these small demons.” He pointed to the box on the table in an unusual tone: “θ rays’ generator.”

“7 kinds of different radioactive elements were separated in small columns inside, and all the columns were surrounded by lead and they won’t react.”

Mathew paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and began to speak in a slow, serious voice, mixing with a sense of extreme fear. He picked up the box, holding two of the corners: “The balance will be disrupted if you push the two corners heavily.” He paused again, “All the elements will be mixed up and a proton will be injected into the mixture. Quarks will be rephotographed into an upper state called a θ particle. It will lead to unstoppable fusion in nearby atoms, generating more θ particles, and finally lead to the collapse of all the atoms on earth.”

John made no reply as if he was listening to a fairytale. 

“Bam!” Something exploded with a thunder-like voice. The board fell down to the earth, and the tank, trembling, making friction sounds, finally fell onto the ground. Water flew across the wooden floor, rushing through the books, the dust, electric wires, and finally, the huge board. Words were filtered by the water, blooming like dying flowers, blurring. The room was ruined. The holograph flickering, and then the words, the world sinking into the darkness.  

The sound of gunfire went closer, mixed with the shouting and crying of soldiers. John came back to himself, watching the humid ground, searching for something “Let it go. It will be fine.” He murmured

Dim light shading through transparent windows, signaling the approaching of daybreak. John opened the shabby door, and walked out of the small command room without even turning around: “Send all the information to the government and tell them to stop fire on our army in thirty minutes.”

Mathew stood up, “It is not our goal! It is also not the goal of the Defiance! Do you know that this is likely to ruin our civilization?” 

“It is a command, Mathew.” John disappeared with his voice in the dark corridor. “We get no choice. That’s the only way to change the world, the wars, and the inequalities.”

Three hours later

John walked out from the shelter of the Defiance for the first time. It was a cold morning, dew covering the lawn with water, wetting the shoes and the trousers, rushing the glory and the honor of the Defiance. He started the Defiance three years ago, beating hundreds of thousands of enemies. He had witnessed the slaves, the workers, the poor, the oppressions. Once, a total stranger, a brave fighter saved him from being blown up with his life. He could never forget the mangled body and the hopeful sight, praying to him “Live on, keep determined.” He could remember the joy of receiving new weapons and comrades, the excitement of fighting on the battlefield, and the sorrows of the death of friends and soldiers. 

Everything had gone, he thought. The world remained unchanged. The wine and meat stink, but the road was frozen to death. The laughter and the freedom in the liberated area were gone, and dreams collapsed.

John held the box tight. He stood in the shadow, back on the ruin, back on the rising sun. The sun finally rose above the ground, shining golden light on the surface of the earth, illuminating their enemy’s body on the opposite side of the lawn, dying the grass, the tree, the soil with all kinds of pigments, and covering them in the completely dark shadow of the ruin. 

He took out the small box, holding the two corners, hanging it overhead, into the brightness of the sun. The box reflected the sunlight, shining, with metallic luster. “How beautiful.” 

He felt a blow to his stomach. He could felt the hot liquid leaked out. It was blood. He turned around, with astonishment, finding out Mathew stood with his arm lifted, carrying his handgun from his belt. His arm was shaking, but his voice was not trembling anymore: “No matter what he becomes, whether he is full of sin and blood, or with equality, harmony, and hope, he should not be erased for no reason. No one is qualified to pass judgment on him.” John’s vision blurred as Mathew passed through his body, walking towards the sunlight, towards the enemy. 

“Sorry about that,” Mathew spoke in a low voice as John’s body collapsed, and he shouted at the top of his voice, “the Defiance, surrendered.”

Mathew continued walking forward, passing a small stream, with a golden fish swimming happily and freely, towards the future, towards the far river.