• Their torches were burning with an intensity that was lost for years. The darkness almost seemed to welcome the light as the torches carved a path through the night. The Resistance's moment was now and there was nothing that could stop in their way.

    Dead leaves crackling made the only noise during their trek through the suburbs. The sun had almost completely turned its back on the world and was ready to bring a new day to another part of the world. People would peer out their curtained windows to watch the group go by. A few brave souls left their homes and joined in on the parade making its way through suburbia.

    All walks of life were part of the Resistance. The ones crippled with time were led onward by the young. At the front of the group, a small girl held a banner high. This world is the only thing she's ever known and in the depths of her heart, she knows that this isn't how the world isn't supposed to be. Near the rear, is an old man holding another banner high. He watched the buildings fall and saw the world change into its current state. He remembers a better time when he was young, and hopes that maybe the little girl at the front will have the same opportunities that he had in the brave new world that the Resistance was trying to create.

    It was completely dark by the time they reached the capitol building. It wasn't grand or majestic, it was just plain big. The only thing that marred the building's side was a large balcony that was used for the Conqueror's victory speeches. There was complete silence as the crowd sat and looked up at the balcony, waiting.

    The Conqueror walked out onto the balcony. He was dressed in a business suit with simply a stocking cap on his head. His light blonde hair had grown a little bit since his last appearance and was now sticking out the edges of the hat. He was a scrawny stick of man. His high cheekbones were clearly visible from below. He looked at the group in the manner that a young man would watch his girlfriend get drunk and start dancing on the tables of the bar.

    One woman stepped forward from the crowd. She held a torch high in her left hand and had a look of determination in her eyes. The entire human race watched her as she opened her mouth to speak her piece.

    "You have taken away our rights and freedoms. You have destroyed individuality. You have taken away every aspect of what it means to be a human being."

    She paused then.

    "History has proven that the human race will not be bound in chains and only told lies at every single turn. Your shallow attempts at control have failed. Just our being here proves that. Controlling human beings is like lighting the night. You could put a spotlight in every corner of the globe and take a flashlight to every nook and cranny and you still can't destroy every single shadow. There will always be darkness when mother nature intends it. Even if you destroy us here another group will start out against our reign of control. Your day is over. And we are the night.

    The crowd remained silent. Smiles crept into the Resistance's faces. They celebrated without words or facial expressions. They had forged the rough plans to a victory on this night.

    The Conqueror walked to the edge and the balcony and looked out among the crowd. That look of why-are-you-doing-this still graced the man's face.

    "You are right, Miss Broadrick, you are right. You are the night. You are the most constant thing in the world. You are a sign that all things must come to an end. You have earned the title of the Omega and possibly even the Alpha. But you are also wrong. I really don't need to set lights in every corner of the world. Human beings are predictable. I know what is going on. Humans can be controlled. It's how the world's been for centuries. We as a race have been subliminally pushed towards buying various products and even been forced into thinking and believing in radical ideas. You may be the night. But I am the morning. And by midday, everything completely forgets that there even was a night."

    He walked away from the balcony and back into the building. The crowd was hardly surprised as the bullets started tearing through their bodies. Noone survived. And by morning, the Resistance was nothing more than an unpleasant dream that the morning wiped away.