Quality Quotes #6

Two in a day! Again! Looking at this one, I think I should go to Forbes for all my quotes.

People will never define you

For how many times you fall

But how many times that you stand up.

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The Fall of an Empire – Another short story

Hi! Nice to see you. I know, I havent published for a while, but I am now. Here is a (slightly longer) short story for you to enjoy. Hope you like it!

The Fall of an Empire

The five of them gathered in the room, seating themselves at the five corners of the table. The pentagonal piece of furniture, like all other furniture in the bare room, was dark mahogany. The room was lit by five candles, arranged in a pentagon in the five corners of the pentagon-shaped room. The layout was of utmost importance, as the equality of the furniture symbolised the equality of the five members of this empire. Even a slight variation in the arrangement would signal a tipping of the scales, something that couldn’t be tolerated and resulted in the immediate eviction of the incriminating member.

None of their actions were seen, nor their speech heard, for each of them had a scrambler in the breast pocket of their shirt. Secrecy was of utmost importance. The scrambler, custom made and pentagonal in shape, would interfere with any digital field in a 100-metre radius. This device was the size of one’s palm, and could pass a metal detection test with ease.

Security was prioritised, and each member went through a rigorous test to enter the room. This room was entirely soundproofed, with metal reinforced walls and roof, and had the capacity to sustain a bomb blast large enough to blow a 2-storey building to smithereens.

Running the largest criminal empire in the world required such measures, and more. Anything that could make money didn’t escape their radar. The five together had contacts worldwide, in every major organisation. A company could be brought down with a few phone calls, results within a week. Immense power was in their hands.

Yet, despite all of this, one of them had been compromised, one of them had talked. That was why they were here. They all entered at a predefined time, accurate to the minute. They all drove themselves, using a map if necessary. GPS can be tracked. Chauffeurs are unreliable.

There was only one way to know who the traitor was. Sixth Sense. Sixth Sense was a system of indigenously and ingeniously developed sensors embedded directly into each member’s pharynx, eyeball, and ear. They were implanted through surgery, and logged whatever the user spoke, saw or heard to a memory chip embedded in the heart. Data was backed up weekly to a central database. Each sensor and chip, once implanted, could never be removed while the user was alive, and would burn automatically when their heart stopped. All four pieces were bound with near unbreakable cords to the users nearest major artery. In addition, when anything was broken, they all would send a short electric pule to the nearest nerve cluster, effectively rendering the person useless. It all ran on a frequency unblocked by the scrambler.

Right now, each chip was uploading its contents, and collective viewing would decide who betrayed them all.

One of the five slowly reached for the closest of five pistols, unnoticed by the others, who sat with their eyes closed in dreamless slumber.

He reached the gun, expertly checked the magazine, removed the safety, and shot the first of the other four in a motion so well practised it seemed almost fluidic, effortless, and deadly. The bullet pierced the centre of the man’s head. He was about to shoot the next man, but noticed that they hadn’t even flinched. He checked their pulses, and suddenly the man’s left eyeball burst into flame. The same happened for the other three.

Then, he heard a beep, repeating over and over again, gradually increasing its tempo. It could only mean one thing – a bomb. He had to get out. He ran to the door – Iron reinforced – but it was locked. He couldn’t even shoot the latch.

And then all was still. Pain, searing pain enveloped him in its embrace, and then bliss as the life ebbed out of his burnt frame.

But all was not over, as a crack spread across the ceiling, the pentagonal room having contained a blast far bigger than it was intended to.

And slowly, seemingly ever so slowly, the roof crumbled, and covered the remains of the twisted glory of what once was the greatest criminal empire to ever have come into being.