CHAPTER 9: LIVESTREAM
The next day's meeting was no longer held in the basement.
It had been moved to Vorak's central conference room, where twelve large LED screens were hung, serving as "internal" signals for those with the highest access from both sides.
Normally, these screens displayed cargo transportation diagrams, troop reports, and video from reconnaissance drones.
But today, they showed Evelyn.
Not through violence.
Nor through carnal images.
But through her undeniable presence in the meeting.
She stood on the glass table, just as she had requested last night. She was not kneeling, not tied up, nor blindfolded.
This made the atmosphere in the room heavier than ever.
The people below, divided into two groups, each side separate, guns hidden under their coats, expensive watches glittering, confidential documents in their hands.
She stood in the middle of it all, the light from the ceiling shining straight down, making her skin shine brighter than the glass.
Diego stood on the left, arms crossed over his chest.
Viktor stood on right, hands in his pockets.
No one dared to touch her.
Just let her stand there, like an object that everyone had to pay attention to.
On the large screen behind, the sound check system was activated:
LIVE: 5,204 VIEWERS (INTERNAL)
ACCESS LEVEL: ALPHA-RED
Evelyn's eyes moved slightly.
"This is an internal livestream," Diego said bluntly, without beating around the bush.
"For what?" she asked again.
"So no one can say we're making up excuses for peace." Viktor's voice was quiet, his expression unchanged. "And so they see you're still here."
Evelyn looked down at the audience.
This wasn't an audience. These were people who had ordered missile launches, mobilized armies to purge entire neighborhoods, and bought and sold people with a nod.
They looked at her like she was an economic strategy. Not cruel, not lustful. Just purely pragmatic.
A man in the second row raised his hand:
"Can we use her as a tool to hold our forces together?"
Evelyn answered before Viktor could open his mouth:
"I don't control anyone. You stop yourselves."
A murmur spread, not loud but sharp.
Diego tilted his head, his eyes both curious and wary.
"You don't have to speak for us," he said softly.
"No," she replied, her eyes still fixed on the crowd below, "I'm speaking for myself."
---
Another voice rang out, cold and sharp as a calculation:
"What happens if you die?"
Viktor answered immediately, without hesitation:
"The war will continue," Diego said, his voice as sharp as a knife. "And worse than before."
No one dared to laugh at the moment.
There was a feeling of quiet recognition spreading through the room.
A young Serrano subordinate stood up, his eyes turned to Evelyn:
"What about you? If you decide to leave? Choose no side?"
His question made some people around turn to look, as if he had just touched a taboo.
Evelyn looked straight into his eyes, not backing down: "I didn't choose to be in the middle. I was pushed into the middle."
The person swallowed a mouthful of saliva.
"So you hate them?"
Evelyn paused for a moment, thinking.
Then she spoke sincerely: "I hate that I'm no longer the main character in my own story."
Both Viktor and Diego were silent. No one explained.
They let that sentence hang in the air, like a knife cut deep into the map.
The scren behind her zoomed in on her face. The cold, clear angle exposed every small movement of her eyelids, every gentle breath.
Not the kind of sexy that was physical. But the kind of sexy that couldn't be avoided from the gaze.
Viktor whispered, just enough for her to hear:
"They need to see you strong before they expect you to be weak."
Diego immediately added:
"When you become weak, they will ask: weak under whose control?"
That sentence made her feel a chill down her spine.
Not because of desire, but rather because of the cruel truth of it.
In this world, weakness has also become a kind of strategic resource.
---
The meeting turned to discussing strategy. Everyone discussed cargo routes, shipping routes, and new fes.
Evelyn stood there, not allowed to leave, not allowed to speak, only able to stand silently.
A person from the North spoke up: "No one here has forgotten that you are the cause of what has happened in the past sixx years."
Evelyn looked straight at him, her eyes determined and her tone calm:
"That's right. I'm the reason you stopped. Not because I wanted to, but because you wanted to use me to change the way you fought."
Silence filled the air.
Then an older man in the last row spoke up, a sudden question:
"So what do you want?"
Evelyn opened her mouth, but this time it wasn't to challenge or protest.
She spoke sincerely.
"To regain my identity."
No one laughed. As it turned out, that was the most dangerous request.
The meeting ended when the clock struck 04:01 AM.
Viktor lowered the screen turned off the signal. Diego approached, removing the small mic from her collar.
"You want your name back," he repeated. "But what name?"
Evelynn looked straight at him.
"I don't know. But that's not what you carved into me."
Viktor tilted his head to lok at her, silent.
He didn't deny it. He was just thinking. As if he was thinking about how someone with a personal name… could make the war more difficult to control.
Right now, Evelyn was the rea
son for the ceasefire. But for the first time… she wanted to be the reason for them to open fire again.
Just to regain the right to live as a human being.