My head is hurting really badly. It’s in pain, and the blood is not stopping. Steve is still laughing. I froze. My trembling hands shot up to my forehead, expecting a hole, blood pouring, skin torn apart. Instead, I felt something hard. Rough. Alien. My fingers scraped against it, and a shiver ran down my spine.

  Clank. Clank. Clank.

  A small ball-like stone rolled onto the dirt-path from where the bullet had struck me.

  “What… what is this?” My voice cracked.

  Steve’s laughter died into a sharp grin. “You thought I'd let you die that easily? A rebel doesn't die a painless death.”

  I staggered back, the world spinning. The pain was still there, throbbing. But instead of a hole, my fingers found a sharp, stinging lump where the skin had split and was already beginning to swell. A trickle of blood was running down my forehead to my right eye.

  The man behind the bush lowered his weapon, staring at me with an expression that mixed pity and apology.

  “What was all this about, Steve?” I stammered.

  Steve tilted his head, eyes glinting under the afternoon sun. “You still don't understand, huh?”

  Steve’s expression hardened. His grin slipped away, replaced by something colder. He turned his gaze toward the sprawling banyan tree in the distance, its roots crawling into the earth like veins.

  “Tell me, Taseen. Do you think you live in a world of fantasy? Or do you think you’re the main character of some story, shielded from death by fate?” His voice cut through the still air, each word heavy. “You could have died a dozen times in just the last hour. You could have been slaughtered in your bed when that door broke open. You could've been pulverized when found unconscious in your room.”

  His eyes locked onto mine, unflinching.

  “In this world, a history built and narrated by lies, there is no chosen one. No savior. No main character.” He raised a finger, pointing to the ground between us. “The only main character here… is Truth.”

  The words echoed in my head with a distant haze. Truth. Truth. Truth....

  My mind went blank. I was in complete disbelief of the reality. What do I say to all this? How does someone give an answer to a question like that?

  I thought I could avenge my parents. I thought I could kill the government.

  Kill the government? How?

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  It isn’t a man. It isn’t one face. It’s hundreds. Thousands. A machine of liars, gears greased with corruption. Cut off one head, and another takes its place, hungrier, filthier.

  So what do I do?

  Do I suffer until I rot? Jump off a cliff? Sink into the river, the way my parents were bound and drowned?

  “I… I don’t know.”

  The words left me broken, a whisper. And with them, my knees gave out. My chest heaved, shallow, useless breaths. My nails dug into the dirt until the soil crumbled under them.

  The field blurred into a smear of gold and green. The banyan, the shepherds, even Steve. They all dissolved into haze. Only his cold figure remained sharp, framed in light, like a judge watching a condemned man.

  The pain in my skull was nothing compared to the collapse inside my chest.

  The world had lost all meaning. My purpose was gone. My mind was shattered. And yet, before I could sink completely into the blur, something struck me, hard. A heavy sensation exploded across my left cheek, snapping my head sideways.

  Heat and sting spread through my cheek, the taste of iron sharp on my lips. The ground rushed up to meet me, or maybe it was a hand, a boot, even reality itself. Reminding me I wasn’t allowed to drift away just yet.

  “Get up. You’re wasting time.”

  His voice was calm, almost teasing, but there was steel underneath it. He looked out toward the distance, eyes tracing something I couldn’t see.

  “You know,” he continued, shrugging lightly, “I never knew someone as stupid as you could have the kind of luck this task demands.”

  He turned slightly, bending his head toward me while his body remained angled against the backdrop of the sunset behind the banyan. “You can be a witness of the truth… or you can be a failure who succumbed to the lies. It’s up to you.”

  And then he smiled. Not his usual grin. Not the sharp, calculating one. This was a genuine smile, a rare, fleeting warmth.

  A smile I only ever saw on my parents’ faces when they succeeded in creating something extraordinary, like the time they built that transport device.

  For the first time in hours, maybe days, my mind felt at ease. A small thread of calm wove through the chaos.

  “Come, Taseen.” Steve started walking toward the banyan tree. “Let’s see what your training looks like.”

  He didn’t look at me, just moved forward at a steady, unhurried pace. I followed, trying to match his rhythm, my thoughts buzzing with questions.

  Under the sprawling branches of the banyan, a man sat there, his back supported by it Probably resting. The dust and sweat on his clothes hinted at a hard day’s labor, or perhaps years of it.

  Steve led me to him and stopped. “Hey, Sheph,” he called, “this is Taseen. He’ll be borrowing your sheep until his training is complete.”

  "Oh. The usual, right?" Asked the man as if he knew what to expect. He didn't move, his weird hat covering his face partially along with a Kans grass in his mouth.

  I froze. Borrowing… sheep? What do sheep have to do with training?

  “Oi, Steve! What the heck. Why do I need sheep for this?” I looked at him, confused.

  Steve turned to me, that infuriating smirk spreading across his face. “You’re going to be a shepherd.”

  My jaw dropped. Wait… what? Me? A shepherd?