Briar’s POV
The docunt waits for like a trap when I finally open my eyes.
No urgent flags. No confidential markings. Just sitting there in the morning briefing feed, already circulated to half the district before I even knew it existed. The kind of paperwork that looks legitimate because everyone treats it like it is, not because anyone bothered to verify the source.
I scan the header through bleary eyes, still propped up against my pillows.
Enforcent Authorization Summary Under diation Supervision.
My stomach drops before I even reach the second paragraph.
There it is. My na. Briar Winter. Printed in black and white like so kind of official seal, giving weight to decisions I never made and authority I never granted.
I sit up straighter, the morning chill hitting my bare shoulders as the blanket falls away. The tablet feels heavy in my hands, heavier than it should for sothing made of glass and tal.
I force myself to read every line.
Expanded patrol zones in disputed territories. Extended detention periods for suspected agitators. Increased surveillance under temporary ergency protocols. All of it wrapped in language so sanitized it sounds like bureaucratic housekeeping instead of what it really is.
Control.
Force.
Power grabs disguised as public safety.
And my na stamped on every single authorization.
The rage hits like ice water, sharp and imdiate. Not the hot, ssy kind of anger that makes you stupid. The cold, focused kind that makes you dangerous.
They planned this.
Every conversation. Every negotiation. Every ti they nodded and agreed to limitations, they were already working around them.
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, feet hitting the hardwood floor with more force than necessary. The sound echoes in the quiet room, solid and definitive.
I dress quickly. Shadow jeans. Boots with good traction. A jacket that won’t restrict my movent. I’m not dressing for diplomacy today.
I’m dressing for war.
The coalition headquarters buzzes with typical morning energy when I stride through the front entrance. Conversations flow around clusters of staffers, phones ring at reception desks, coffee cups steam in busy hands.
All of it stutters when they see .
Not stops. Stutters. Like a record skipping. Voices trail off mid-sentence. Heads turn. Soone drops papers, the sound sharp in the sudden quiet.
I don’t slow down.
The main assembly room doors stand open, and I can hear him before I see him. The coalition leader, voice smooth as aged whiskey, addressing the morning committee. He’s in his elent here. Comfortable. Confident.
About to be very uncomfortable.
I step into the doorway and wait.
Not hiding. Not lurking. Just standing there, letting my presence fill the space until it becos impossible to ignore.
It takes him only a few monts to notice .
His voice catches first, just a tiny hitch in whatever he’s saying about community safety asures. Then his eyes find mine across the room, and I watch his expression shift through distinct phases.
Surprise. Calculation. Concern.
Smart man. He should be concerned.
He tries to keep talking, but the words co out stilted now, artificial. Everyone can feel the tension cracling between us like electricity before a storm.
Finally, he gives up pretending this is normal.
"Briar," he says, arranging his mouth into what probably passes for a welcoming smile in other circumstances. "This is unexpected. We weren’t planning—"
"No," I interrupt, my voice cutting through his pleasantries like a blade. "I imagine you weren’t."
The room goes dead silent.
Many people holding their breath, waiting to see how this plays out. So lean forward, others lean back, but nobody looks away.
I take asured steps into the room, stopping just close enough to the podium to make him uncomfortable without crowding him. Professional distance with an edge.
"I read your enforcent authorization report this morning," I say, each word deliberate and clear. "The one with my na on it."
Sothing flickers behind his eyes. Guilt, maybe. Or just annoyance at being caught.
"Yes, well, as the appointed diator, your oversight naturally extends to—"
"Stop talking."
Two words. Flat. Final.
He stops.
The silence stretches, thick and heavy. Soone coughs nervously in the back row.
"I am not an enforcent authority," I continue, my tone conversational but carrying enough steel to cut glass. "I do not authorize patrols. I do not approve detention protocols. I certainly do not expand territorial control asures."
His jaw tightens. "These actions were necessary for public safety. The situation demanded imdiate—"
"The situation demanded that you follow the paraters we established," I interrupt. "Instead, you decided to use my na to justify actions that violate every agreent we’ve made."
I turn slightly, addressing the room now instead of him. Taking away his audience. Making him a spectator in his own eting.
"Let make sothing absolutely clear to everyone here," I say, my voice carrying to every corner of the room. "Any enforcent action taken under the claim of my authorization is fraudulent. I have not approved these asures. I will not approve these asures."
The weight of those words settles over the room like a heavy blanket.
The coalition leader’s face flushes red above his collar. "You’re being unreasonable. The security of our communities—"
"Is not served by unauthorized use of diation authority," I finish. "Try again."
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