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In the following days, news coverage of the shooting is a huge deal, but quickly swept aside and forgotten as the next big event draws attention away from politics to Northland to another issue; Centrailia's media circus ensures that the things that get the spotlight are in the best interest of the ruling class.
As for you, your return to the reservation isn't met with heroic applause like your blinding of the rapist or stealing money for the poor. This time, it's much more subdued. Perhaps the weapons were too advanced to appeal to the traditionalists, or maybe it was too bloodthirsty and means-focused to really rile up the blonde warrior spirit. Until you watch the broadcast yourself.
“The Northland Peacekeeper and advocate for change, Durza Ampa, and his fiance, were killed while driving in a motorcade in a shocking attack of political violence...”
<span class="mu-r">”...You don't seem very shook up by this.”</span>
<span class="mu-b">”Hmm? Brun, you're the one who gave me the weapon. If it can pierce bulletproof glass it can pierce a skull. Are you seriously blaming me?”</span>
<span class="mu-r">”No- I didn't say that. It's just not right. I didn't want any bystanders to get hurt.”</span>
<span class="mu-b">”Causalities are inevitable. Who knows, we'll probably find out she was pregnant next...”</span>
<span class="mu-r">”Is this a joke to you? Is that how you really feel?”</span>
>Of course not. I feel awful.
>The ends justify the means.
>No, I enjoyed it.
>I don't feel anything.
