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Chapter 6: Shadows That Whisper
Last Updated:
2025-08-04 20:39:09
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Wounded Rose of Garden Metro Chapter 118 – When the Count Finished
The bells rang at midnight.Not the sharp, urgent peal of alarms, nor the celebratory chime used for festivals—but the slow, measured toll reserved for declarations. One strike for each district. One strike for each voice counted.Garden Metro went silent as the final bell echoed across stone and steel.Lena stood in the council hall with Vincent and Damien at her side, watching clerks move between tables with sealed tallies. The air smelled of wax and ink and the faint metallic tang of nerves. No one spoke. Even Reiss, standing across the chamber with the Stability Bloc clustered behind him, wore an expression of careful restraint.The Speaker’s chair sat empty.By design.Lena had refused to occupy it while the votes were counted. “Let it belong to the city until the city decides,” she had said earlier. Some had scoffed. Others had nodded with quiet respect.Now, the decision was here.The chief clerk—a thin man with trembling hands and a voice that carried surprisingly well—stepped
Wounded Rose of Garden Metro Chapter 117 – The Day Before the Choice
The city did not sleep.Garden Metro had known nights of violence, nights of curfews and sirens and whispered prayers behind locked doors. This was different. This was a city awake with itself—arguing, calculating, remembering.Lena watched it from the council hall balcony long after midnight.Below her, lanterns burned late in taverns and communal halls. Circles of people gathered on street corners, voices rising and falling as if the city were breathing through a thousand mouths. Some spoke in anger. Some in fear. Some in careful, quiet hope.Tomorrow, they would vote.And tonight, Garden Metro was deciding what kind of city it believed it was.Inside the council hall, the Stability Bloc worked just as hard.Reiss stood at the head of a private chamber borrowed from a merchant guild—wide oak table, polished cups, guards at the door. Around him sat the Bloc’s inner circle: councilors, supply-chain overseers, transport guild leaders, and a handful of figures who didn’t officially exis
Wounded Rose of Garden Metro Happy Holidays
Hi Everyone.I hope you are enjoying the second volume of the Who's The Loser Series.I will be taking the rest of the year off to celebrate the holiday season.Rest assured, I will be back at the new year to continue writing this book, among others.There will be more twists and turns along the way.And as always, your support, comments and feedback are always appreciated. Please leave a comment to let me know how I am doing with the story and how I can improve in the future.So until then, I wish you one and all a very blessed Christmas and a Happy New Year.Love,JDHWS
Wounded Rose of Garden Metro Chapter 116 – The Truth No One Wanted
Morning did not bring calm. It brought reckoning.The plaza outside the council hall filled before sunrise, not because of announcements or posters, but because something deeper had shifted. Word of the northern refugees had spread through the night—how the gates had opened, how children had been carried inside instead of left to freeze, how Reiss had walked away with a smile sharp enough to cut.By the time Lena arrived, the square was already packed. Workers with soot-stained hands stood shoulder to shoulder with merchants in pressed coats. Mothers held children close. Guards lined the edges, not to intimidate, but to keep the mass from folding in on itself.No banners today. No slogans.Just waiting.Lena paused at the edge of the steps, taking in the crowd. This was not the angry noise of yesterday. This was something heavier—anticipation mixed with fear, the kind that came when people sensed a truth was coming whether they wanted it or not.Vincent stood beside her. Damien ling
Wounded Rose of Garden Metro Chapter 115 – The Gate That Wouldn’t Open
The northern gate loomed like a wounded giant when Lena arrived—massive stone pillars casting long shadows across a scene on the verge of tearing itself apart.Shouts collided in the cold morning air. Torches blazed where there should have been lanterns. The smell of sweat and fear clung to everything.Hundreds—no, nearly a thousand—people crowded the road outside the gate. Families with carts stacked with blankets. Children clinging to parents’ sleeves. Elderly men leaning on cracked canes. Their faces were gaunt, hollowed by hunger and loss. They had marched for days, maybe weeks.Banners made of tattered cloth fluttered weakly above the crowd. Not political banners—signs of desperation.“HELP US.” “WE LOST OUR HOME.” “NO WATER, NO FOOD.”At the front of the line, Civic Guard officers formed a barricade—not with weapons drawn, but with shields locked together in a line meant to contain panic.Lena pushed her way through the growing tension, Vincent and Damien at her side.“Report,
Wounded Rose of Garden Metro Chapter 114 – Sparks Under the Floorboards
The storm did not arrive all at once. It crept slowly—quiet like mold, patient like rust—slipping into the cracks of Garden Metro while the city pretended to debate futures it didn’t fully understand.A week. They had one week before the vote that would decide whether Lena Quinn remained Speaker.A week was an eternity for anger. A week was a heartbeat for disaster.By dawn of the second day, the city’s fractures became visible.The market square, which usually smelled of bread and smoke, now smelled of ink and damp paper. Merchants pasted Stability Bloc posters on their stalls between customers. Children tugged them down and tore them into confetti only for new ones to appear an hour later.At the tram junction, two men nearly came to blows—one shouting that Lena had saved them from invisible chains, the other insisting she’d doomed them all by destroying “the only damn thing that knew what was coming.”Meanwhile, at the river docks, fishermen argued over the rumors spreading like
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