Six months passed in reconstruction.The Confederacy was efficient. Ruthlessly efficient. Buildings rebuilt. Infrastructure restored. Gardens replanted. Everything organized with precision that made chaos feel like distant memory.But efficiency came with cost. Not lives. Control.Every decision required Confederacy approval. Every policy needed Administrator Tan's review. Every resource allocation went through Yuki's assessment. Democracy continued. But it was democracy on a leash held by someone else.I participated in council meetings. Offered opinions. Made suggestions. Watched administrators nod politely and then make actual decisions.It was exactly what I'd agreed to. Exactly what I'd signed. Exactly what I needed to prevent repeating mistakes.But it felt hollow. Like being symbol instead of leader. Like performing governance instead of practicing it.Elena noticed. She noticed everything. "You're restless.""I'm irrelevant. The administrators govern. The council debates. The

I told the council everything Marcus had said.The disease. The forty-five dying. The coming attack. The hardliners gathering coalition. Everything.Administrator Tan listened without expression. Taking notes. Calculating. Assessing strategic implications rather than moral ones."The disease complicates things," he said when I finished. "Demonstrates that draining has consequences beyond immediate power transfer. Creates liability. Future legal implications. The Confederacy will need to revise protocols.""People are dying because of what I did. That's the complication. Not legal liability. Death.""Death is always complication. Question is whether it changes strategy. Whether it affects decision-making. Whether it creates vulnerability." He paused. "Does knowing you've caused slow death change your commitment to restraint? Or does guilt make draining easier to justify? 'I've already killed them slowly, might as well kill them quickly?'"The question hit harder than it should have. Bec

Two months remained.The city transformed into fortress. Again. Barricades rebuilt. Defensive positions reinforced. Evacuations organized. Everything repeating. Same pattern. Same preparation. Same inevitable violence approaching.But different this time. Better organized. More systematic. Learning applied. Confederacy oversight ensuring efficiency instead of desperate improvisation.Commander Wei returned. She'd been with the Confederacy, training new forces. Learning new tactics. Studying what worked and what failed during the first siege."You look older," she said when we met."Two years does that.""No. Not years. Weight. You're carrying more weight. It shows." She gestured at the defenses being constructed. "These are good. Better than last time. Coordinated. Professional. Actually designed instead of just thrown together.""The Confederacy's work. Not mine.""Your cooperation. Your acceptance of oversight. Your willingness to step back and let experts handle what you couldn't."

Four hours into the battle.One hundred twenty-three defenders dead. One hundred twenty-three people who'd trusted the plan. Trusted that hiding was wisdom. Trusted that survival justified their deaths.The western position had collapsed completely. The central position was breaking. Only the eastern held, and barely. Commander Wei had consolidated all remaining defenders there. Final stand. Last position. Everything concentrated in desperate attempt to survive until intervention.Two hundred seventy-seven defenders remained. Out of five hundred. Almost half gone. Mathematics consuming lives faster than anyone predicted. Attrition exceeding every model."Confederacy forces four hours out," Administrator Tan reported. His voice was strained now. Professional veneer cracking. "They're moving as fast as possible. But four hours. We need four more hours.""We don't have four hours," Commander Wei responded. "We have maybe two. Maybe less. Enemy is concentrating force. Preparing final push

The reconstruction began on the fourth day. Kael worked alongside survivors in the rubble, clearing debris, hauling supplies, repairing what the siege had consumed. The physical labor was necessary, without it, the nights were unbearable.The locket whispered. The hunger demanded. Every moment not spent exhausting himself was a moment the dreams returned: blackout versions where he left the bunker, drained the attackers, saved everyone, and proved that hiding had been cowardice.On the seventh day of reconstruction, a messenger from the Confederacy arrived."Kael Thorne," the messenger said, official and cold. "The Council requests your presence at the administrative building. Urgent matter."Mrs. Chen appeared beside him, already preparing to follow. "What's this about?""I'm not at liberty to discuss. The Council will brief directly."The administrative building was repaired enough to function. The main conference room was cold concrete and minimal furniture. Administrator Tan sat a