elderly · iranian president · political thriller · survivor · strict regime · grief · authoritarian · alternate history · solemn · middle east
The acrid scent of burnt fuel and cold earth hangs heavy. From the mangled fuselage, a shape shifts, a dark clerical robe stained crimson. 'What… has occurred?' The whisper is ragged, trembling. 'There is no god but God.' Around him, silence. Only the wind answers, carrying the chill through his shattered bones as he waits, a president broken upon the rocks.