Crave Me,Kill Me
The story wouldn’t be told in police blotters or media spin.
Aria wouldn’t allow it.
Not this time.
Cassian watched as she paced the rotunda slowly, her fingers grazing the edge of the marble table where so many decisions had once been forged decisions she’d been excluded from, erased by, rewritten around. She stopped near the scorched imprint where the attacker’s weapon had clattered to the floor.
Nova approached, tablet in hand.
“They’re already trying to shape it,” she said. “Early chatter from Council-controlled nodes says it was a radicalized fringe group. Emotionally compromised. ‘Damaged by exposure to early Eden systems.’”