ZALIRA POV
The next alert arrived before my hand fully left the console.
The sound was different.
Not the sharp tone of casualty reports.
Not the steady chime of tactical updates.
This one was slower, deliberate.
The kind of alert the system reserved for something that required immediate attention.
One of the analysts looked up from his station.
"Chancellor," he said.
"Yes."
"We have a priority signal coming through the emergency channel."
Kadeem glanced at the display.
"Source?"
The analyst hesitated.
Then he answered.
"Outer defense unit, northern canal district."
Kadeem frowned slightly.
"That area should have been cleared."
"Yes," I said.
"It should have."
The screen shifted automatically.
A small window opened on the tactical grid.
Live feed.
Static flickered once before stabilizing.
The camera angle was low.
Shaking.
Whoever carried it was moving.
Smoke filled the narrow street behind them.
Collapsed market stalls.
Broken barricades.
Burning vehicles.
Then the camera lifted.
And I recognized the person holding it.
My chest tightened before I could stop it.
"Open audio," I said.
The system complied.
The voice came through rough with interference.
But unmistakable.
"Zalira?"
Kadeem turned toward me.
"You know them."
"Yes."
The man on the screen tried to steady the camera.
Blood ran down one side of his face.
Not fresh, dark, drying.
"Good," he said hoarsely when the connection stabilized. "You're there."
His name was Arlen.
Captain of the canal defense unit.
One of the few commanders who had supported me before the Crown.
Before the siege.
Before any of this.
Kadeem leaned closer to the console.
"What's your status, Captain?"
Arlen laughed weakly.
"That depends," he said. "Do you want the honest answer or the official one?"
"The honest one," I said.
He exhaled slowly.
"Then we're finished."
The feed shifted slightly.
Behind him I saw the remains of a barricade.
Bodies.
Militia.
Civilians.
A few coalition soldiers.
All collapsed together in the same narrow street.
"How many left?" Kadeem asked.
Arlen didn't answer immediately.
"Seven," he said finally.
"Out of?"
"Forty-two."
Silence spread through the command chamber.
The casualty counter updated quietly in the corner of the screen.
One hundred twenty-nine.
Kadeem's jaw tightened.
"You need extraction," he said.
Arlen shook his head.
"Not possible."
"Why?"
The camera turned.
Down the street.
Coalition armored units were visible at the far end of the block.
Slowly advancing.
Methodical.
Cutting off every exit.
"They closed the canal bridge," Arlen said. "And the east corridor."
Kadeem cursed quietly.
"They've boxed you in."
"Yes."
I stepped closer to the console.
"How long?"
Arlen looked over his shoulder again.
Then back at the camera.
"Maybe ten minutes."
Maybe.
The Crown stirred faintly.
Localized loss.
I ignored it.
Kadeem spoke quickly.
"We can send a strike team."
Arlen shook his head again.
"No time."
"There's always time."
"Not this time."
Another explosion echoed faintly through the feed.
Closer.
Dust drifted through the camera lens.
Arlen wiped his face with a shaking hand.
Then he looked directly into the camera.
Into me.
"You know why I called."
"Yes," I said quietly.
Kadeem looked between us.
"What?"
Arlen answered.
"They're moving toward the central canal gate."
Kadeem froze.
"That gate controls the flood barriers."
"Yes."
"If they take it"
"They open the water channels," Arlen finished.
The realization spread through the room.
The canal system ran beneath half the capital.
Flooding the lower districts would kill thousands.
Maybe more.
Kadeem turned toward me.
"We need to seal the gate."
"Yes."
"Now."
The system responded immediately.
STRUCTURAL LOCKDOWN AVAILABLE
Estimated time to full closure:
Four minutes.
Arlen's voice broke through the silence.
"You should know something first."
I already did.
But I let him say it.
"The control mechanism is here," he said.
Inside the canal district.
Inside the street he was standing in.
Kadeem stared at the screen.
"You're kidding."
"I wish."
He gestured weakly toward the broken barricade behind him.
"The override panel is fifty meters behind us."
"And the coalition units?"
"Twenty meters in front."
Kadeem ran a hand across his face.
"This is impossible."
"Yes," Arlen said.
"It is."
The system projected the scenario automatically.
If we sealed the gate now, the entire canal district would lock down.
Flood barriers would close, structural plates would descend.
Everything inside the perimeter would be trapped.
Everything.
Including Arlen and the seven people still fighting beside him.
Kadeem read the projection silently.
Then looked at me.
"You see the problem."
"Yes."
"If we close the gate, they die."
"Yes."
"If we don't,"
"The coalition opens the canals."
"And the city floods."
"Yes."
Silence settled again, heavy, unavoidable.
Arlen spoke softly.
"Zalira."
"Yes."
"Don't hesitate."
Kadeem looked sharply at the screen.
"You don't get to say that."
Arlen ignored him.
"You already know the answer."
I did.
That was the problem.
Kadeem stepped closer to me.
"There might be another option."
"No."
"We could try a targeted strike."
"Too slow."
"Deploy aerial units."
"They won't reach him in time."
"Then we"
He stopped.
Because there was nothing left to suggest.
The numbers were already running.
Four minutes.
Three minutes, forty seconds.
Arlen's voice came through again.
Calmer now.
Strangely steady.
"You remember the northern corridor evacuation?"
"Yes."
"You told us something then."
I did.
But I stayed silent.
"You said leadership means choosing who survives."
His eyes held the camera.
"You were right."
Kadeem shook his head.
"No."
Arlen ignored him.
"Close the gate."
The timer dropped.
Three minutes.
My hand rested lightly against the console.
Not moving, not shaking, just waiting.
Kadeem's voice was low.
"You don't have to do this."
"Yes," I said.
"You could wait."
"If I wait, the city floods."
"And if you don't"
"He dies."
Arlen smiled faintly through the blood on his face.
"Not just me."
Seven people behind him.
Seven lives balanced against thousands.
The Crown hummed softly.
Hierarchy clarified.
I looked at the tactical grid.
Then at the live feed.
Then at the countdown.
Two minutes.
Kadeem spoke quietly.
"If you press that, there's no reversal."
"I know."
"And you'll hear them die."
"Yes."
He searched my face.
"You care about him."
"Yes."
"Then don't."
The timer dropped again.
One minute.
Arlen shifted the camera slightly.
The street behind him.
The remaining defenders, exhausted, bleeding.
Still holding their positions.
"They're almost here," he said.
Kadeem closed his eyes briefly.
"Zalira…"
The console pulsed softly beneath my hand.
Waiting.
For the Chancellor.
For the decision.
I met Arlen's eyes through the screen.
"I'm sorry," I said.
He nodded.
"I know."
The timer reached ten seconds.
Kadeem whispered one last time.
"You don't have to be this person."
But I already was.
I pressed the authorization plate.
The system confirmed immediately.
CANAL GATE LOCKDOWN — ACTIVATED
Across the tactical map, the canal district sealed itself.
Steel barriers rose from the ground.
Floodgates dropped.
Structural plates slid into place.
The entire sector closed like a fist.
Inside the live feed, Arlen heard it.
The distant thunder of machinery.
He looked back toward the approaching coalition units.
Then back at the camera.
"Well," he said quietly.
"That answers that."
The connection cut.
The casualty counter updated.
One hundred thirty-six.
The ledger had grown again.
Kadeem stood beside me in silence.
Outside the command windows, smoke continued to rise over the city.
"You chose the city," he said finally.
"Yes."
He studied my face.
"And you'll never undo that."
"No," I said.
I looked back at the tactical grid.
At the sealed canal district.
At the empty signal where Arlen's feed had been.
Loss.
Irreversible.
And somewhere deep beneath my ribs, the Crown whispered softly.
Authority confirmed.