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of the day; of course, Lemuel chose it to launch his idiotic scheme. He thought he could shoot me? The fool. I almost smile under my hood as I imagine telling Victoria of her young lover’s demise. But perhaps she already knows, thanks to her telepathic gift.

“Who goes there?” a man’s voice demands from the opposite side of the vehicle.

I gesture for my warriors to join me as rifle rounds pierce the earth like heavy rainfall, and puffs of dust plume upward. There won’t be enough cover for all of us here, but it certainly beats scurrying around out in the open like frightened vermin.

A short cry pierces the air as a body tips forward from the cliff’s edge. A trail of crimson streams out behind, staining the cloth garments. I grind my teeth. Luther’s people will strike back with a vengeance now that one of mine has killed one of theirs.

As if on cue, three of my warriors go down face-first into the dust with rounds puncturing them through the head and the heart. The sentries on that ridge have been well-trained, and my warriors are easy targets. I curse out loud and beckon sharply for the others to join me, but they are too intent on returning fire, dropping to their knees to take aim. They too are good shots. A pair of snipers from the ridge sail downward and crash into bloody heaps below. That leaves only one more shooter above, and three other potential hostiles on the other side of this vehicle.

“Throw down your weapons,” I shout at the UW personnel, and I am instantly met with a single shot fired under the vehicle. I cringe behind the tire.

“We’re not going down without a fight, pal!” calls out the same voice. “Tell your people to drop their weapons, or we’ll take them out one at a time!”

The shooter on the ridge has withdrawn, undoubtedly to gather reinforcements. Luther will not be pleased by the recent turn of events. I curse Lemuel for starting the whole debacle.

But perhaps this is exactly what Gaia wanted all along: for Luther’s people and my people to unite under my leadership. I already have my swiftest warriors planted within Luther’s Homeplace, deep behind enemy lines. I need only give the word, and they will overwhelm Luther’s fighters, assuming control of the situation while they await my next order.

Everything is falling into place, after all, and they are the best-laid plans I could have possibly imagined. To think, it took the idiot Lemuel to start this chain reaction. And now the sentries, save one, have been dispatched. No one is guarding the entrance into Luther’s cave.

I motion to my surviving warriors, directing them to climb the mountain and take position along the way up. They will lend a hand when my warriors inside escort all of Luther’s people out.

Time for a trip, folks. That’s right, we’re going to Eden. Think of it as Paradise Regained. Lord Cain will be your tour guide on what promises to be a fateful journey. No, you won’t need to bring anything. Leave all of your weapons, we insist. But we’ll gladly make use of them, thank you very much.

With Gaia’s praises on my lips for what promises to be a quick victory over these infidels, I rise to my feet and stride around the rear of the vehicle. I find three members of the United World team huddled together on the other side: a tall woman pale from blood loss, not wearing a protective suit; an older man in a functional suit with utter shock frozen on his wrinkled features; and a half-sized fellow without his environmental suit, but with almost enough muscle mass to make up for his deficient stature. Each of them is armed with a snub-nosed automatic rifle. But presented with my imposing figure, they seem to have forgotten for the moment that they have me outnumbered.

Kill them, the voice of Gaia herself whispers in my ear. Kill them all, my son.

It is as though her spirit flows through me, guiding my steps. I level my rifle on the short man. Two rounds at close range nearly take off his head with a backsplash of crimson splattering across his stunned compatriots—but not before he is able to squeeze off a short burst of automatic fire. Two rounds catch me in the side, and I snarl, slapping down a hand to apply pressure at the site of the wound.

I don’t give the other two a chance to retaliate. Ending the woman with a single headshot, I move on to the older man, puncturing his helmet with multiple rounds that send him stuttering backward, his weapon firing at the sky in spastic bursts. He topples over limply, spraying blood. I nudge each of them with my boot to be sure they are dead.

“Long live the United World,” I mutter, wincing in pain.

“Lord Cain!” Asaph approaches, out of breath. “You’re wounded?”

He sounds as surprised as I am, noting the blood on my gloved hand as I stanch the flow.

“Nothing serious.” Gaia would not allow anything more than a sting. I am her chosen one. This is just a reminder that, unlike her, I am mortal. I will have to be more careful.

“Look!” He points at the cave above.

Luther stands in plain sight, a ghost of the man I saw months ago. Asaph and the other remaining warriors aim their weapons up at him, but they do not fire. I shoulder my rifle by the strap and raise my free hand in greeting. The other remains casually pressed against my side.

“Luther,” I call out. “We meet again.”

If a sudden gust were to blow up along the cliff at that moment, Luther would fall over. He sways on his feet, staring at the broken and bloody corpses below. Words fail him. The woman beside him is garbed as he is in sand-colored cloth and head wrappings, with black goggles shielding their eyes. Expressions are impossible to read, but

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