At the same time, another duo headed out as part of Wharton's plan, driving down a dark county highway, the stars above them.

Neither the security guard - in the driver’s seat - or the secretary - in the passenger seat - spoke as they cruised down freeways in his Dorm Patrol Cop Car. He could’ve flashed the sirens, but he didn’t want to draw too much attention to himself. What he was doing would go very much against Vyse’s wishes.

What they were doing, he corrected himself. He snuck a glance over at the secretary next to him; her blonde hair flowed from the cool autumn breeze entering the car through her roll-down window. She wore a pair of glasses, a new pair, not the one he bought her on their honeymoon.

She came along tonight because he genuinely pleaded with her. The fate of humanity depended on her skills. That was the first time either of them had spoken to each other since they were assigned to the same dorm. At this rate, it might’ve been the last.

The security guard didn’t want it to end that way. They had so much history together. Yet she was her, and he was him. That was the boundary that ultimately drove them apart - the lack of understanding they had for each other. Yet he knew it was mainly his own lack of understanding.

Thoughts like that ruminated and percolated around his mind, nearly making him miss the exit. His headlights flashed across a green exit sign; the car rumbled down into a rural streets lacking even streetlights. Their destination took them through long fields and meadows, crickets chirping all the while.

They could see their destination before they arrived: the giant broadcasting tower owned by Vyse and several corporate partners. This pylon carried the message of Ruta the Savior; it then blasted the message of Ruta the Liar. It would soon carry a message to conclude the trilogy.

The tower would be heavily guarded, of course. The security guard was indeed a security guard, so he could give it as good as he got in a scrap; but to storm something like this, he needed the secretary. Black belts in karate, judo, and gun fu. He learned those fun facts during idle talk in a coffee shop near their local library soon after they first met.

Shock and awe. That was the strategy she chose for tonight. Forget stealth. They would use fear to secure the tower.

The car pulled off onto a dirt road, the tower looming tall at the end of it. A security checkpoint appeared; this would be the point of no return.

“Just like old times,” the secretary mumbled, pulling out her submachine gun.

The security guard punched down the accelerator. The tower’s guard, a ninja - for some reason, Vyse employed a lot of ninjas - stepped out of the checkpoint, but the car roared by, slamming right through the lowered wooden barrier that stretched across the road. The ninja unveiled his sword, but a quick flash from the submachine gun silenced him.

No alarm blared yet, but surely the ninjas elsewhere noticed their presence. The car skidded to a halt in a large dirt parking lot outside the tower, kicking up a cloud of dirt. A few ninjas looked at it in surprise; the secretary immediately fired on them.

The security guard left a chunk of C4 in the driver’s seat, then rolled out through his opened door onto the dirt. He raised his pistol and fired two shots, downing two ninjas in quick succession. The secretary dove out through the driver’s side door as well, linking up with the guard on the other side of the car.

Ninjas wielding automatic rifles fired at the car. The guard and secretary returned fire, taking down several of them. The two then nodded at each other and retreated towards a large slab of concrete at the edge of the parking lot. They slid into place behind it, bullets whizzing by, ricocheting off the slab.

The guard snuck a look upwards. The huge tower dominated the other side of the parking lot, a few metal walkways leading out of the dirt lot up into it. And all along the way stood ninjas armed with kunai and sai and shurikens and AK-47s.

A few ninjas cautiously advanced on the park car, intending on using it for cover. When enough of them arrived, the guard unveiled the detonator from his uniform and clicked on it.

The car exploded in a giant fireball, the shockwave reverberating around the lot. With the ninjas in disarray, the guard and secretary advanced out of their hiding spot, bounding across the dirt lot, shooting any ninjas still standing as they sprinted across, feeling the surging adrenaline and even excitement as they arrived on the other side, at the base of the walkway leading up into the tower.

The secretary went first; she dodged the sword of a ninja then shot him through the stomach. The guard raised his pistol and shot several ninjas firing down at them from the walkway above them. Two ninjas rappelled down to greet them; the secretary caught both of their sai with her submachine gun, then pressed them, advancing on them, forcing them backwards until their backs hit a railing and then through the railing.

The secretary fired down on them for good measure, then looked back at the guard, who tossed another ninja over the railing. The secretary had blood and dirt on her face, her blonde hair smeared and loose; the guard had tatters and tears across his once pristine uniform.

Just like their honeymoon.

They made equally quick work of any ninjas along the way to the top. They shot their way into the mid-section of the tower, the control section. The ninjas there roared and suddenly turned into half-ninja, half-gorillas.

The guard and secretary shrugged and kept firing. Several gorilla-ninjas went down, but more advanced on them. Bullets flew, magazines emptied, swords flashed through the air. One by one, down the ninjas went, just leaving a few big brutes.

One of the brutes attacked the guard, managing to knock away his pistol. The guard raised his hands in a boxer’s pose and punched out one of the gorilla-ninjas, but two more got the jump on him. As they held him down, the guard saw the blinking lights of the tower above and remembered.

The guard arriving as a baby in his new home, born into a loving family up north.

The guard first learning how to walk, his parents there with him.

The guard first learning how to ride a bike, his parents there with him.

The guard covering his ears as his parents argued in their kitchen, unpaid bills and empty bottles dotting the table.

The guard throwing himself into his school studies to get away from his family trauma.

The guard getting bullied because kids who study too hard aren’t cool.

The guard, entering high school, all alone.

The guard joining the Math Club.

The guard working alongside a girl on math problems.

The guard dropping his pencil; his and her hands reaching down to pick it up; their two hands arriving at the same time; their two hands staying there together.

The guard’s mom walking out.

The guard’s dad surrounded by empty beer cans.

The guard happy that his math girlfriend is there to support him.

The guard, his girlfriend, and her parents at his high school prom.

The guard getting accepted into his local community college.

The guard waving goodbye to his girlfriend when she departed for her university on the other side of the country.

The guard looking at a letter a few months later with tears in his eyes.

The guard’s girlfriend thought the time and distance was too much for them.

The guard, all alone, dropping out of school.

The guard taking some of his dad’s alcohol.

The guard feels empty.

The guard takes long walks.

The guard peers over bridge railings to murky waters below far.

The guard tightens his fists.

The guard quits the alcohol.

The guard hits the gym.

The guard hits the books.

The guard meets a librarian.

The guard takes her out for coffee.

The guard moves out into an apartment with his new girlfriend.

The guard learns what being a guard truly entails.

The guard makes amends with his father.

The guard’s father and mother attend his wedding.

The guard and his new wife on their honeymoon.

The guard and his wife are ready for a family.

The guard holding his wife’s hand when the doctor tells them that she’s infertile.

The guard shouting at his wife for the first time.

The guard running from their apartment.

The guard running away as far as he can.

The guard joins the Army.

The guard sees things overseas.

The guard returns home.

The guard stands in front of his father's grave.

The guard falls into a job of guarding warehouses.

The guard takes lonely night walks.

The guard slowly becomes himself again.

The guard helps his mother into a nursing home.

The guard clenches his fist.

The guard applies for a guard job at Vyse, hoping to help students there stay on the right path.

The guard is assigned to his dorm.

The guard steps inside on his first day and realizes who the secretary is.

Back on the tower, the guard closes his eyes. What he did tonight wasn’t for his past regrets, it was for the future, to help those kids actually see a future. If he was to die during it, then that’s how it would go. The sacrifice was worth it.

In one fell swoop, both of the gorilla-ninja’s heads came clean off. Their corpses fell to either side of the guard. Standing over him, mixed with the blinking lights, was the face of the secretary, a katana from a fallen ninja in her hands.

“We should get coffee after this,” the guard blurted out.

The secretary looked at him in shock, then offered a small smile. “You’re buying.”

The secretary helped the guard to his feet. The guard would have a lot to apologize for, but right now, he had one thing in mind. Resting an arm on her shoulder for support, the guard and secretary limped over to the control panel.

The guard reached into his pocket and produced a USB-hacker device from his video game’s online groupchat moderator, none other than BubbleBoy27. The guard tried to plug it into a socket; when it wouldn’t go in, he flipped it over; when that failed, he flipped it over again, and the USB slid inside with a satisfying click.

A jolt of electricity suddenly shot out of the control panel into the tower; electricity flared off the tower, traveling down wires. The USB held a virus; this virus would hijack any television, phone, and portable gaming device connected to the grid, wireless or otherwise.

The secretary took out her phone so the two could watch the video. Still leaning on her shoulder, the guard caught a glimpse of his and her reflection on the dark screen; both of them carried expressions indicating exhaustion and a complete lack of desire to be anywhere but here, right in this moment, with each other.

Then Wharton's video began.