DIVAK
2,057 Years Before the Final Exodus
He sat on the bench with his briefcase, trying to act as though nothing was amiss.
The briefcase could blow him and everything within fifty meters to oblivion, but he knew he couldn't cradle it like a newborn. Months ago, Divak's brother attempted to destroy the Megaran Temple of Apollo. In the end, he just managed to kill Apollo, temporarily. Disappointing, certainly, but not many could claim to have killed a 'god.'
And then the Kobollian puppet government decided that the Thirteenth Tribe was to blame. Divak was conflicted. He wanted to scream from the rooftops who really did it and why. But the diversion afforded him more freedom to move about the land and gather converts.
After losing his brother in the bombing and his nephews to government brainwashing, Divak realized that suicide attacks were not practical when there were so few willing Draco left. Yes, Divak and Khruv's father had told them the ancient story of Messenger Prometheus and how he destroyed himself and the Sacred Vessel. How that served as an example to the Draco in extreme circumstances. Being so small in number, it was easy for Divak to justify these as extreme circumstances, but there were simply too few people left. Thus, his briefcase.
He had come back to Theonpolis. Sitting on a bench outside in the hot midday sun while wearing a suit caused him to sweat. No matter. In a few moments, he would walk into the massive Temple of Zeus, deposit the briefcase while pretending to pray before the statue and then leave. Once he was across the river, he would activate his pocket processor and that would be it. Simple.
"No time like the present," Divak whispered.
He crossed the street and walked quickly up the massive steps. He passed under two large sculptures of Zeus, wearing togas and carrying giant, golden lightning bolts. Once inside the temple, he saw that dozens of worshippers were there for a small wedding. A priest was officiating off to the right, but the prayer platform at the far end was rather empty.
Divak walked across the marble floor, conscious of the loud clicking of his dress shoes. He knelt onto the mat at Zeus' marble feet and laid the briefcase in front of his knees. He rested his arms on the marble platform and folded them under his chin. He closed his eyes for a few moments, prayed to the Great One, and then left. Simple.
He glanced over at the wedding as he walked past. They seemed like nice people. But they were heathens. Blasphemers. Their deaths were justified. After walking down the steps and crossing the street, Divak entered Pantheon Park. He passed the amphitheatre and was now about two blocks away from the temple. He came around to a trashcan in the far corner, under heavy trees. No one was near, so he pulled off the blonde wig and exposed his bald head. He then removed the prosthetic nose and cheek coverings that he wore, lest video cameras or scanning devices picked him up.
He walked away and onto a pedestrian ramp along Thalassa Avenue. Divak reached his hand into his pocket. As he walked south over the Peneius River, his fingers danced over the activation panel. He pressed it twice. Hearing a beep, he pressed it twice more. Two beeps. Two more presses. He looked over his shoulder as he neared some businesses by the coliseum. Smoke and a shockwave erupted above the trees across the river a second or more before he heard it. As the explosion continued to rumble and resonate, he stopped beside a large commercial trash can. He stomped on the pocket processor and rendered it to bits. He then deposited a few pieces in the garbage. He walked a few steps and put a few more in another trash can. The last handful of pieces he dropped into a watery storm drain. He departed the alley and turned left; away from the sounds of screams and alarms.