The New Order

Lilah Thorne stared up at the flag pinned neatly above her bed. It hung flat against the wall, carefully aligned, as if it had been placed there with intention rather than decoration. It wasn’t the old American flag she’d seen in history archives—the red, white, and blue with fifty stars in the corner. That version belonged to a different time, a different world.

Now the flag was red. A deep, heavy red. Across it stretched a bold black X, stark and unmistakable.

The symbol of the New Order.

Twenty years ago, everything had changed. The old government had collapsed, replaced by something stronger, something more controlled. People didn’t argue the way they used to. They didn’t protest or riot or disrupt the peace. Everyone had a place now. Everyone had rules to follow.

And when those rules were broken, justice was immediate.

Lilah had grown up believing that was a good thing. The New Order kept the peace. It prevented chaos. It made sure people stayed in line.

She liked that.

Eventually, she pushed herself upright and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The room was small but orderly, everything in its proper place. Nothing unnecessary. Nothing out of line. Just how it should be.

She tied her bright, fiery red hair into a tight ponytail, smoothing down any loose strands in order to look her best. Then she pulled on black pants, a black fitted shirt, and laced her boots. Everything she wore was dark, uniform, practical. There was nothing extra—nothing that would make her stand out from a crowd.

She paused at the mirror. Pale skin. Deep, green eyes. A face that still looked younger than she felt. She straightened her posture until she stood perfectly straight. Once she was ready, she headed outside.

“Are you ready to go, Miss?”

She flinched, then steadied herself. “I…suppose.”

The house’s Protector stood beside a black transport van. He was tall, broad-shouldered, silent. His presence alone was enough to make people obey. Up close, she noticed the details she usually ignored—deep brown eyes, a sharp jawline.

In another life, maybe she would’ve thought him attractive enough to date him.

But not this one. Not in a life where the New Order chose your life-long partner for you.

He opened the door. She climbed inside and sat, clasping her trembling hands together. Her heart pounded and beads of cold sweat dripped from her forehead.

Because today was no ordinary day.

Today was Choosing Day.

At eighteen, every citizen chose their Faction. Red meant the Army. You would serve the New Order by protecting its people from its enemy, the people in the West. Green meant service to the government. Either way, there was no going back.

If you left, you were hunted.

You’d be dead, forgotten.

No one would remember you.

No one would mourn you.

But that’s how it should be, Lilah thought. That was what the New Order required. That was the law, and it was just.

Still, her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

The ride was silent. When the doors opened again, she stepped out and looked up.

The Honors Building towered above her—once a stadium, now something cold and hollow. Its dark windows reflected nothing. The entrance felt less like an invitation and more like a warning.

Inside, they were separated immediately. Women to the right. Men to the left.

No talking.

Lilah fell into line. A few rows ahead, she spotted Emma.

Her chest tightened. She wanted to call out, to reach her—but she couldn’t. Speaking was forbidden.

They moved inside in deafening silence. The space opened into something massive. Rows of empty seats rose into shadow. The air felt cold, metallic.

Lilah’s eyes immediately found it; the center sat the stage. She sucked in a breath when she saw it.

It was bare. Circular. Exposed under a single harsh light.

And at its center—a microphone.

That was where everything would change.

Soon, names were called. One by one, people stepped forward and chose.

When her name echoed through the building, Lilah flinched.

“Lilah Bartholdi!”

She stood, forcing her legs to move. Step by step, she climbed onto the stage. The light burned against her skin.

“Speak the name of your Faction.”

Her throat tightened.

“I choose the Red Faction.”

Murmurs spread through the crowd.

She understood why.

She didn’t look like a soldier. She was small, slight, her frame delicate. There was nothing about her that suggested strength.

But it didn’t matter.

This was the only way to prove her loyalty.

The only way to matter.

“There will be silence!” The announcer barked.

Silence hushed over the crowd immediately.

After the ceremony, they were transported to the training compound. The next day was brutal—running, drills, weapons. By evening, her body ached in ways she hadn’t thought possible.

She collapsed onto her cot, exhausted

“Have you heard the rumors?”

Her eyes snapped open.

“That there isn’t a war,” someone whispered. “They’re just using us.”

Lilah sat up immediately, anger rising.

“Will you be quiet?” she snapped. “Stop spreading lies unless you want to be reported.”

The boys fell silent—but one of them, Mark, leaned forward again.

“I’m not lying,” he said quietly. “They took my father. Forced him to become a Mask. He never came back.”

Tommy nodded shakily. “I saw it happen.

Lilah hesitated.

Something in Mark’s voice didn’t sound like a lie.

“Then prove it,” she said finally. “We must find proof. If we do not, I report you.”

Mark nodded immediately.

That night, Lilah couldn’t sleep.

Eventually, she got up and made her way toward the head soldier’s office.

She had to report him.

It was her duty.

But when she reached the door, her hand trembled. She couldn’t knock.

Why?

Something was holding her back, and she couldn’t figure out what it was.

Frustration burned through her. She turned and fled back to her barracks, ashamed. She was a coward. A traitor of the New Order.

She tossed and turned endlessly all night, unable to fall back asleep. She hated herself. Hated herself for being so cowardly.

Morning came too fast.

They trained relentlessly all day long. By the evening, everyone was tired, their bodies worn out. But, after training, Lilah noticed something strange. She noticed two Masks grab a pair of cadets.

No explanation. Just force.

“Guys,” Mark whispered. “We have to follow them.”

“That’s insane,” Tommy said. “Do you want us to get exiled?”

“Do you guys want answers or not?” Mark snapped.

“Alright,” Lilah said, “But we cannot get caught.”

They followed at a distance, watching as the cadets were dragged into a small, isolated building. They crept closer, pressing against the wall, listening through a narrow gap. Lilah’s heart pounded so loudly in her ears that she couldn’t think.

“…you belong to us now,” a Mask said.

Lilah held her breath.

“You’ll serve us. Indefinitely.”

“But sir—we were assigned to the Red Faction—”

A laugh. A sinister, maniacal laugh

“Assigned? You actually believe that?”

Then—

“There is no war.”

Lilah froze.

“There has never been a war. You exist to serve us. That’s all.”

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

No.

That wasn’t possible.

“That’s not true,” she whispered, shaking her head. “It can’t be.”

But the words sounded hollow.

Inside, the cadets struggled. They tried to put up a fight. But then, there was only silence.

Lilah staggered back, her hand clamped tightly over her mouth.

“No…” she said again, panic rising. “They must’ve done something wrong to be punished. That’s why—”

But she remembered the voice. There has never been a war. Her thoughts spiraled. Her mind whirled.

If there was no war…

Then what was the Red Faction?

What was the point in enlisting in the New Order’s army?

“Lilah,” Mark said urgently, grabbing her arm. “We have to go.”

They ran, sprinting as fast as they could.

Lilah’s vision blurred as tears filled her eyes.

“I wanted this,” she choked. “My whole life—I believed in this. The New Order is good. It’s supposed to protect us—”

Her voice broke.

Everything she believed in…

Everything she trusted…

Everything she was ever taught about the New Order…

Was a lie.

They kept running, footsteps echoing behind them, growing louder. Closer.

Lilah’s chest tightened, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. She wanted to cry. To throw up. To scream.

If there was no war…

If none of it was real…

Then what had she just given her life to?