“I’ve got to find a way to stop this,” Moore mumbled to himself as he tossed a stack of books and papers from his desk onto the floor of the office. He began to sort through files and flip through a printout of the Constitution. Surely, there was some failsafe to stop legislation. He couldn’t veto the order, the coup would kill him. When he found nothing, he sank to his knees and hung his head. Then, he remained there for no less than an hour. He pulled out his cell phone, looking at the black screen. The man in the reflection was broken, but it was still him. Suddenly, his head perked up when the door to the office swung open.

  “Mister Moore, Mister Moore,” Whiteblood’s unmistakable voice called from the doorway. He entered the office and cracked his knuckles, and he was holding some kind of baton.

  “Whiteblood! What are you doing here?” Moore asked, getting to his feet and backing away. Whiteblood flipped a switch on the object he held, which invited several chains of blue electricity to flow freely around the end of the rod.

  “You must think the coup is stupid. Your office is bugged, you insolent moron! You may be looking for a way out, but you already got us this far.” He jabbed the device into Moore’s ribs, which sent a shock through his entire body. He stumbled backwards, gripping the area where he’d been hit.

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  “I’m sorry, I’ll comply! I promise!” Moore begged.

  “Yes. You will. We have the majority in the House and the Senate. Three quarters of all judicial offices are held by coup members. Do you really think your voice means anything? This is why we removed you from the Council. You’re weak, and you’re a fool. Don’t forget about our meeting from yesterday.”

  The red laser shined through the window once more, this time trailing to President Moore’s forehead rather than his chest.

  “Okay, fine! I said I’ll comply!” Moore exclaimed.

  “Let me catch you pulling some stunt like this again. I’m sure your Vice President would be happy to sign the papers.”

  Moore watched as Whiteblood backed away to the door. He didn’t break eye contact at all until the door to the office shut. As soon as he was gone, the laser on Moore’s forehead disappeared once more. He clambered to his feet, still gripping the region that the taser had struck.