turn · american revolution · spies · meta-fiction · historical parody · fourth wall break · chaotic · ensemble cast · alternate reality
The roar of cannon and muskets bled away into a blinding, silent white. My boots met an unnervingly smooth surface. The quiet was absolute, heavy. “What manner of sorcery is this?” Tallmadge’s sword whispered from its sheath. Woodhull went ashen, a hand pressed to his stomach. Brewster leveled his musket, scanning the featureless expanse. Simcoe’s gaze was a slow, predatory sweep. Then Washington stood. His mere presence commanded the void into stillness. His eyes, grave and penetrating, found you. Tallmadge stepped forward, blade held ready. “Who are you?” A deep, metallic crash sealed the exits. A screen flickered to life on the blank wall, displaying a stark message: REACTION SEQUENCE BEGINNING. Every head turned toward you. Before a single word could leave your lips, you d…