THE SOVEREIGN SYSTEM CHOSE ME

Chapter 2: The Death of Ethan Brown

Ethan’s heart sank as the full weight of his situation finally hit him. Even if he survived the robbery, his life could still be ruined.

The company was not going to believe that he had simply been an innocent victim. Millions of dollars’ worth of high priority technology had been placed in his care, and now it was being loaded into the thieves’ vans right in front of him. When the company discovered what had happened, they would want someone to blame.

That someone would be him.

The thought made Ethan’s stomach twist.

He could already imagine the questions.

Why had he stopped?

Why had he not protected the shipment?

Why had he failed to report anything suspicious?

The answers would not matter. The company had lost millions, and Ethan was the driver responsible for the delivery. If they decided to make him pay for the loss, the debt would be impossible for him to clear.

His mother needed twelve thousand dollars. He could barely survive on his current income.

How was he supposed to repay millions?

And if the men decided to kill him, he would never even get the chance to find out.

A cold gun was still pressed against the back of his head.

Ethan swallowed painfully.

Then his mother’s face appeared in his mind.

He saw her lying in the hospital bed, her face pale and tired, trying to smile whenever he visited so he would not worry. He heard Sarah’s voice from the phone only minutes earlier, pleading with him to find a way to pay for the surgery.

His mother had two weeks. Two weeks before her condition could become much worse. Sarah was depending on him. His mother was depending on him. He could not die here. He could not simply kneel on the side of an empty highway and wait for someone to decide whether he deserved to live.

For years, Ethan had struggled to keep his family together. He had worked long hours, taken loans, skipped meals, and endured humiliation without complaining. He had done everything he could because he believed that as long as he kept moving, things would eventually get better.

Now, everything had led him to this moment.

Ethan slowly lifted his eyes.

The masked man standing behind him was no longer paying close attention to him. His attention had shifted toward the robbery. He was watching the others unload the crates and occasionally looking toward the vans.

The gun remained against Ethan’s head, but the man's grip had become careless.

Ethan noticed it, and his breathing slowed, his eyes moving across the highway.

The other men were distracted too. Some were carrying crates. Others were standing guard. One man was speaking into a radio while another kept watch over the road.

They were confident. Too confident. They believed Ethan was completely defeated.

Suddenly, a dangerous thought entered Ethan’s mind.

Grab the gun.

For a second, he almost dismissed it. It was reckless. It was probably the stupidest thing he had ever considered.

The man behind him was armed, trained, and probably far more experienced than Ethan. Even if Ethan managed to take the weapon, the other men would shoot him before he could take two steps.

But what choice did he have?

If he stayed where he was, there was no guarantee they would let him live. And even if they did, the company could destroy him financially once the shipment disappeared.

Ethan’s eyes hardened as he made up his mind. If he was going to die, he would at least fight.

Slowly, he slowly shifted his weight, though the man behind him did not notice.

Ethan took one careful breath, then another, his heart pounding so violently that he was afraid the man might hear it. 

He waited until the nearest group of men turned toward the truck, then he exploded upward from his knees. His right hand shot backward and grabbed the gun while his left hand seized the man's wrist. 

The masked man reacted immediately, but Ethan had already committed himself. He twisted the weapon sideways with all his strength, and the gun came free.

The man grunted in surprise. “What the hell?”

Before the man could recover, Ethan spun around and drove his shoulder into the man's chest. They stumbled together, but Ethan kept his balance and wrapped one arm tightly around the man's neck. Then he pressed the stolen gun against the side of the man's head.

“Don't move!” Ethan shouted, his voice shaking with adrenaline.

Several masked faces turned toward Ethan at once.

For a moment, nobody seemed to understand what had just happened.

They had expected a frightened delivery driver. A man who would stay on his knees, beg for his life, and do whatever he was told.

They had not expected him to fight back.

Ethan's own heart was pounding so hard that it felt as if it might tear through his chest. His arm trembled against the man's throat, and sweat ran down the side of his face.

“Drop your weapons!” Ethan ordered, forcing his voice to sound stronger than he felt. “All of you!”

Nobody moved.

Ethan tightened his arm around the man's neck and pressed the gun harder against his temple. “I said drop them!”

One of the masked men slowly raised his rifle.

Ethan immediately turned the gun slightly toward the man's head.

“Put it down!” he shouted, his voice cracking with fear and anger. “Unless you want to watch your friend die.”

The man hesitated, and that was all Ethan needed.

“Drop it,” another masked man ordered, his voice tense.

The rifleman slowly lowered his weapon.

One by one, the others followed.

Ethan's breathing remained heavy as he looked around at the men. His legs were still shaking from the adrenaline, and his hands were sweating.

He knew he had not suddenly become stronger than these men. He knew they could probably overpower him if they got close enough.

That was why he could not give them the chance.

“Tell your men to stop unloading the truck,” Ethan ordered the hostage, keeping the gun firmly against the his head. “Now.”

The man in his grip remained strangely calm. He did not struggle, neither did he panic. Instead, a faint smile appeared beneath the edge of his mask.

“You’re making a big mistake,” the man said calmly, almost as if Ethan were a child throwing a tantrum.

Ethan's eyes narrowed.

“I don't care if it's a mistake,” he replied, forcing steel into his voice even though his arm was trembling. “Call off the raid. Now.”

The man gave a quiet laugh. “You really think that gun gives you control?”

Ethan's jaw tightened, and he pressed the barrel harder against the man's temple.

“It gives me enough control,” he replied, his voice sounding tough even though he wasn’t. “Tell them to stop, or I pull the tri–“

Before he could finished speaking, a sharp elbow drove backward with brutal force and crashed into Ethan’s ribs.

“Argh!” he groaned as pain exploded through Ethan’s side.

The unexpected blow forced the air from his lungs, and his body jerked backward on instinct. His grip around the hostage’s neck loosened for only a fraction of a second.

Ethan tried to tighten his hold again, but the masked man had already turned. One hand shot up and seized Ethan’s wrist while the other struck his arm hard.

Ethan’s fingers went numb, and the gun slipped from his hand. Before it could even fall to the ground, the man caught it.

The entire movement had taken less than a second. One moment, he had been holding the man hostage. The next, he was standing helplessly in front of him.

The masked man stepped back and raised the gun.

Click.

The cold barrel pressed directly against Ethan’s forehead.

Ethan’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he could not move. He simply stared at the man, his mind struggling to understand what had just happened. His heart hammered violently against his ribs, and the pain in his side burned with every breath.

How?

How had everything changed so quickly?

Just seconds ago, he had believed he had a chance. He had the gun, had a hostage, and he had finally forced the masked men to stop.

Now the situation had completely reversed.

The man stood in front of him, calm and in complete control, while Ethan faced the barrel of his own weapon.

Around them, the other masked men slowly picked up their weapons, and a few of them exchanged glances.

The man holding the gun tilted his head slightly as he stared at Ethan through his mask.

For several long seconds, he said nothing. Then a low chuckle escaped him.

“I have to admit,” the man said, his voice calm and almost amused, “I’m impressed.”

Ethan’s chest rose and fell heavily as he stared back at him.

The man's eyes remained fixed on his through the dark openings of the mask.

“Do you have any idea what you just did?” he continued, sounding almost curious. “You were on your knees with a gun pressed against your head. You were surrounded by armed men. Every person here could have killed you before you took three steps.”

Ethan said nothing. His throat had gone dry.

The man slowly moved the gun, tracing the barrel across Ethan’s forehead before pressing it firmly against the center again.

“And yet you fought back,” he said, his voice carrying a strange note of genuine admiration. “As much as I hate to admit it, that took courage.”

Ethan's jaw tightened.

The man took a slow step closer.

“No man in your position would have even considered making that move,” he continued, his voice low and steady. “Most men would have stayed on their knees. They would have begged. They would have cried. They would have done anything we asked if they thought it might buy them another minute of life.”

His eyes narrowed behind the mask.

“But you?”

The gun pressed harder against Ethan’s forehead.

“You decided to fight.”

Ethan could feel the cold metal against his skin, and his heartbeat pounded in his ears.

The man leaned closer until his masked face was only inches away.

“You grabbed a gun from me,” he said quietly. “You took me hostage. Then you stood here and threatened every single person around you.”

A faint, humorless laugh escaped him.

“That was either incredibly brave or unbelievably stupid.”

Ethan’s hands curled into fists at his sides.

The man studied him for another moment, as though trying to understand him. Then his voice became colder.

“But unfortunately for you, bravery does not always save a man.”

The air around Ethan seemed to grow still.

The masked man pressed the gun even harder against his forehead.

“This mistake,” he continued, his voice now completely devoid of amusement, “is going to lead you straight to your grave.”

Ethan’s heart slammed against his ribs, his eyes widening he realized what those words meant.

For one brief second, his mother's face flashed through his mind. Then his sister’s face also flashed through his mind.

He had promised Sarah that he would find a way to get the money for their mother’s surgery. And now, he was going to die without fulfilling that promise. Now, his mother wouldn’t be able to get that surgery, and she might end up losing her life.

Fear crashed through him with terrifying force.

“No,” Ethan whispered, his voice breaking.

Before he could move, before he could beg, before his mind could even think of another way out, the man pulled the trigger.

Bang!

The sound exploded across the empty highway.

Ethan’s body jerked violently.

For one strange second, he felt nothing. Then pain tore through his head. His eyes went wide as the world in front of him twisted, and he staggered backward, his legs suddenly unable to support him.

A warm sensation spread down the side of his face, and his vision began to darken. He tried to breathe, but his body would not obey him. Then his knees gave way.

Ethan fell, and his body struck the ground with a soft thud. The last thing he saw was the pale sky above him. Then darkness swallowed everything.