Choice

I chose not to kill the Queen. As a reward, my beloved as well as my life was taken from me.

---

The world was black, illuminated only by a few red lines on a cold screen.

11:57.

11:58.

The electronic clock almost seemed to have paused time itself, its red digits blinking without any care. Each blink a second, but why did it feel like thousands rather than sixty?

11:59.

12:00.

A new day had come, and with it, a new year. That marked the fiftieth year since the beginning of the new era. I pressed a button on the window.

You require sleep.

I chose not to sleep on my own terms. I wasn’t tired. At least, I didn’t feel tired. Nobody did anymore.

I pressed it again. Once more, the robotic voice feigned concern.

Are you sure?

I nodded, but just as expected, my world went black.

When I awoke again in my bed, the clock showed 6:00. Why the world still chose to even have time was a miracle. I pressed the button on the window again. This time, without hesitation, the blinds were opened.

Once upon a time, I would have seen a sunrise. A lovely orange color painting over the dark sky and raising the light.

Now, all I saw was a sunrise, its fake orange color marking the blackened sky with its artificial lighting. It pained me to see it, no matter how many mornings I experienced.

People were already about, cheerfully going about their day. But what did they even do?

There were children playing, kicking a ball around. A drone flew by, and picked up the ball, throwing it into the goal, causing the kids to cheer. It was maddening, watching the senselessness of it all. Even more so that their joy wasn’t fake. It was genuine. But it was lacking. They didn’t know anything else. No strife, no hardship.

The screen in my bedroom lit up, showing me an entire checklist of options for what to do during the day, which included eating out, watching a movie, perhaps being a tad adventurous and going swimming. I didn’t feel like any of them, including the ‘work’ option at the bottom. What was the point of a comfortable job if there was nothing to work for? Instead, I chose to go for a trip.

The mild temperature did not change as I stepped foot outside. A jolt of pain ran through my body. I call it a miracle that the only pain left for me to experience was the one I chose to experience. I remembered that rainy night. The one where I first met her, and the pain as we both shivered in the cold.

And the relief when it was over and we managed to find a warm place to eat. That restaurant must still exist.

“Daffodil’s Dinner…” I whispered, its name never having left my mind. But as soon as I uttered those words, arrows lit up under my feet, next to a number showing a distance. I sighed. I walked.

The restaurant was pristine. It was barely twice my height, its once faded facade replaced by what could only be described as the epitome of art itself, a metal exterior painted over with colors of the rainbow that shifted between each until it settled on one, in my case an easy verdant green.

A voice reached my ears.

“What is your color?”

The tall woman next to me had a whisper in her voice, but I could still hear her clearly. She swiped the platinum hair out of her face, her green eyes piercing into me.

“Green,” I replied. The coincidence did not escape me.

“Lovely,” she said, no shift in her lovely tone. “Come in. Why don’t I invite you for a drink?”

Words that had lost all meaning. But despite that, I accepted.

The interior of the building was equally as perfect as the outside. Drones cleaned the floors, walls, and ceilings, phasing in and out of existence to prevent customers from stepping on them. We sat by a table near the window and with one request, the view outside changed to rain. The sight clenched my heart, which my companion noticed.

“Not a fan of the cold?” She asked as our order, two cups of coffee, materialized onto the table.

“Quite the opposite actually. It’s regrettable that we can’t experience it anymore.”

She looked surprised. “Is that so? I would have thought you would have grown to resent it after a while. Really, was there a single day without rain back then?”

I took a sip. Disgustingly perfect.

“A few. A rarity that made them all the more special.”

“How very romantic,” the woman teased. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you met your soulmate in that very rain, hm?”

“Spot on,” I laughed. I wished I was blushing. “Nadia was equally as special as those rare days without rain.”

The woman leaned in, eyebrows raising at the mention of her name. “Tell me more.”

I did not hesitate. “She was beautiful. Strong, even if her body wasn’t. She fought every day just to stay alive. Just to be with me. She had so many ideas…”

I trailed off, wondering if I was telling her too much. I took another sip, avoiding her gaze. On a table near us, an artist was drawing. His picture was already turning out to be identical to a photograph. I looked back.

My companion had a strange look on her face, unreadable. But then she nodded and leaned in.

“Take this. You need it to take revenge on the Queen, correct?” She whispered, her voice dropping even more at the mention of our ruler.

So she knew. I thought I was the only one who did. Dropping a bag into my lap, she stood up.

“How did you know?” I asked before she left. Her response left me speechless.

She let out a breath. “I miss my sister.”

---

I barely noticed that I never asked for the woman’s name or where she got the gun from. In truth, it didn’t matter. All guns were outlawed for good reason, I had once agreed to that, but this one felt different. It was a metal I faintly recognized, one rare and special in the way that it was identical to many of the drones. In turn, it meant that it would fool them into thinking it was one of their own.

It was identical to the one she gave me back then, the one I threw away by refusing to kill the Queen. It was plain to see what the strange woman wanted me to do.

Nobody noticed the piece of metal in my hand, nor did they even choose to pay any mind to it. How could they? After all, history had already chosen to forget its bloody roots.

The streets of the city were bustling. Even past midnight, there were some who chose to stay awake. Nobody paid me any mind. They decided not to. There was no need to.

The castle, as she called it, was built at the center of our city. A skyscraper, housing a multitude of floors, each with a different function. A different need to be fulfilled. Everything was taken care of. Everything was decided.

Everything taken away by being given.

She was at the top. The metal felt cold in my hand, my finger on its trigger. Had I just pulled it back then, none of this would have happened. We would still be living.

Nobody decided to stop my ascent. The elevator opened quietly, the lack of sound unnerving. The air smelt like nothing but cold. The fans spun, unnoticeable. There was nobody else in the elevator. There was no need to. Nobody worked here anymore except her.

I touched the walls of the elevator. There was no sign of any flaw. The smooth metal burnt into my hand more than the recoil of mine ever could. The only redeeming quality was the length of time it took to reach the top, a silver lining within the clouds of perfection.

The elevator opened. My footsteps echoed loudly as I stepped out into the queen’s office. Her chair was turned around. She must be watching her world, gleefully reveling in her creation.

There was no security. Why would there be one? Everything was taken care of.

She chose to swing her chair around. I decided to do what I didn’t.

Her death was swift and silent. I stepped forward.

Nadia was as beautiful as ever, even during the moment her life flickered out. She didn’t struggle, she must have forgotten how to. Or maybe she knew this was coming. The last tragedy of her life.

As I watched the false sunrise on the horizon, I sat by her side, feeling the warmth leave her body. Such warmth could never be given back to the world again. But maybe, just by rectifying what I failed, there was a chance it would.

I had no regrets as my eyes lingered on the walls painted with raindrops.

Or at least, that’s what I chose to believe.