Chains of Power

Chapter 2 — The General Walks Free

The prison gate shrieked as it rolled open, metal grinding against metal, each groan louder than the last. Edmond Welder stood just beyond the threshold, the first rays of late-afternoon sun striking his face. He didn’t squint. Didn’t flinch. His eyes drank in the light as though it had been waiting for him.

Two guards escorted him down the steps. Normally, convicts were spat out of the prison like refuse, no ceremony, no witnesses. But today, things were different.

At the foot of the stairs, a black convoy of armored vehicles waited, engines purring like predators at rest. Soldiers stood in precise formation on either side of the path, their boots polished, their uniforms immaculate. Rifles gleamed in the sun, bayonets catching the light.

And every last one of them stared at him. The younger of the two guards swallowed hard. “Sir… is it true? Seven stars?” His voice carried a hushed reverence, like a child whispering about a ghost story.

The older guard shot him a glare. “Keep your mouth shut.”

But Edmond heard it anyway. He allowed himself the smallest smile. Bitter. Ironic. A tall officer in a pressed black coat broke ranks and stepped forward.

His boots struck the pavement with perfect cadence, his hand snapping into a salute sharp enough to cut glass.

“General Welder,” the officer declared, voice ringing clear. “On behalf of Central Command, welcome back, sir.”

Gasps rippled through the younger soldiers in formation, quickly smothered by discipline. The younger guard’s mouth fell open. “G-General?”

“Enough,” the older one hissed, but the damage was done.

Edmond returned the salute with a slow, deliberate precision that silenced the air. Then, as if by signal, another soldier stepped forward with a key. The chains binding Edmond’s wrists and ankles fell away, clattering against the pavement like discarded lies.

He flexed his hands once, rolling the stiffness from his shoulders. The simple motion was enough to remind every man watching that this was no prisoner. This was a commander. From behind the barricades, reporters erupted.

“General Welder, why were you imprisoned?”

“Was it political sabotage?”

“Did the government cover up your mission?”

“Are you still in active service?”

“Is it true you refused to testify against your superiors?”

Cameras flashed in rapid bursts, microphones shoved forward like spears. Edmond didn’t slow. He walked the path laid before him, boots steady, gaze fixed ahead.

“General, one word for the people!” a woman shouted desperately. “Were you guilty or not?”

Edmond’s silence was his only answer. The door of the lead vehicle swung open. Inside sat a broad-shouldered man in a decorated uniform, his silver hair cropped close, his face carved with scars from wars no civilian would ever read about. General Maddox.

“About damn time,” Maddox said, his gravelly voice carrying a rough warmth. He extended a hand.

Edmond clasped it firmly, the weight of years of service passing between them in a single grip. “Didn’t think it would end this way,” Edmond muttered.

Maddox’s eyes gleamed. “Didn’t think it would begin this way either. Seven stars, Edmond. Seven. And they had you rotting in chains. The Council should be ashamed.”

“They had their reasons,” Edmond replied, sliding into the vehicle. His tone carried no bitterness, only a flat acceptance that made Maddox frown.

“The Council,” Maddox repeated. “You took the fall, didn’t you? Held your tongue so they could keep their secrets clean.”

Edmond’s silence confirmed more than words could. The convoy lurched forward, leaving the prison in its rearview. The reporters’ shouts faded into distance, but the weight of their questions lingered.

Maddox studied him. “Three years. You said nothing. Not a leak, not a whisper. Most men would’ve broken.”

“Most men didn’t make the same oath I did.”

“And what did it cost you?” Maddox asked quietly.

Edmond’s jaw tightened. He looked out the tinted window at the city rising in the distance. Glass towers glittered in the sun, cars snaked through the arteries of the streets, and somewhere among them was a woman signing her freedom from him.

“Everything,” he said finally.

Maddox leaned back, arms crossed. “You still love her.”

Edmond didn’t answer. That silence was louder than admission. Selene Carter sat in her office, high above the city, the skyline sprawled behind her like a kingdom she had fought tooth and nail to control.

Her assistant, Amanda, hovered by the desk, clutching a tablet. “You should see this,” Amanda said hesitantly.

Selene didn’t look up from the documents on her desk. “Unless it’s about the Mitchell contract, it can wait.”

“It’s not,” Amanda said, her voice trembling with something close to awe. “It’s about… him.”

Selene’s pen froze mid-signature. Slowly, she lifted her eyes. “What about him?”

Amanda set the tablet down. A live broadcast played, shaky footage from a reporter’s phone. Selene leaned forward, her heart kicking against her ribs.

On the screen, Edmond walked out of prison. Not in chains. Not as a convict. Soldiers saluted him. Chains fell from his wrists. Cameras screamed his name.

“General Welder,” the officer’s voice boomed even through the poor audio. “On behalf of Central Command, welcome back, sir.”

Selene’s breath caught. Amanda whispered, “Seven stars, Selene. He’s a Seven-Star General.”

Selene’s hand trembled against the desk. Her mind scrambled to make sense of what she was seeing. A general? No… it had to be staged. Some cruel trick. Some cover-up.

But the salute was real. The soldiers’ awe was real. The press frenzy was real. And the man at the center of it all was Edmond. Her husband. Her ex-husband.

The papers she had forced into his hands this morning felt suddenly heavier than stone. Back in the convoy, Maddox’s phone buzzed with incoming calls. He ignored them, eyes fixed on Edmond.

“You know the media will feast on this,” Maddox said. “Half will call you a hero. Half will brand you a traitor. And the woman you protected with your silence?”

Edmond’s lips pressed into a hard line. “She signed the papers today,” he said.

Maddox swore under his breath. “Then she’ll know soon enough what she threw away.”

Edmond leaned back against the seat, eyes closed, the city lights beginning to flicker as dusk fell. Somewhere across that sprawling skyline, Selene Carter was staring at a screen, realizing the man she had abandoned was the only shield she had ever had. And Edmond knew, sooner or later, she would come knocking.

He only didn’t know whether he would open the door.