The concert hall was flush with beautiful sound as the symphony’s climax came to an end. Figaro came out on stage and put on his act. The time had come. He wrung his hands and put a frown on his face. Many of the audience clapped as he showed himself but he put up his hands to stop them. The massive monitors around the arena showed Figaro. All cameras, all eyes were once again on him.

“My dear amazing, incredible audience. I… I am sorry but I must put this performance on pause for a moment.” Figaro gulped to add more to his act, “I originally put on this event to raise money for the tragedy at Keller-Dale, which so many have graciously donated. However, I have to confess… the motives were not all that noble. Mostly I created this event to stifle my own guilt.”

The audience fell silent in confusion, unsure of what was coming. Sinclair at almost the top row sat up. Caliban squinted and the Director stroked her hair in focus. Finally, Figaro was getting to it.

“I want to apologize to everyone. I am a despicable coward. A disgusting disgusting coward, but I won’t allow this to go on anymore. I have to tell the people the truth. Not long after the bombing of Keller-Dale I found out the culprit. I found out the identity of the terrorist who took away so many of our friends. So many of our family members!”

The crowd gasped, many people pushing themselves to the edge of their seat.

Figaro continued, “The police and those following the news might already know this person by a different name. They go by the calling card, Cicero. This person threatened me though, they told me if I ever revealed their identity. They would kill my children, my friends, my family and eventually me. It terrified me. This person is a maniac. I was so scared. But I won’t let this go on any longer. Too many people have lost loved ones! I have watched people weep for days on end. People sobbing in the streets. I can’t take it anymore! If something like this were to ever happen again I could never live with myself. So, I will tell you all who this person is. The true name of Cicero. Then together as a people we will take this person on. We will take them down together.”

Figaro paused, wiping fake tears. No one even breathed as they waited for it.

Figaro started, his voice hoarse, “Cicero, the terrorist of Keller-Dale. Their true identity is-“

The gigantic monitors all blacked out in a moment and every speaker went silent as if mocking Figaro. No one had heard the final word Figaro uttered. Cicero’s true name.

Figaro’s breath caught in his throat. This wasn’t supposed to happen. What was this?

In an instant all the monitors came back alive and with it a digital voice came on over the speakers.

“Cicero, Cicero, Cicero,” it said, “I have become quite the popular person, haven’t I?”

On the screen was a person, blurred out completely, holding a gun to a child’s head. Figaro’s mouth fell open. It was one of his children.

“So you want to be the hero now don’t you Figaro and paint me the villain? Was that your little plan.” The voice giggled, “That is perfectly fine, I will play this game with you. However, are you prepared for the cost?”

Figaro’s eyes widened his act dropped, “DON’T YOU DARE CICERO!”

“Tsk, tsk,” said Cicero, “You started this.”

From the ceiling fell a metal object. It clanked on the ground right in front of Figaro, startling him. It was a pair of scissors. The entire audience remained silent.

“Time for one last scenario my dear artist. Cut out your tongue or,” the camera zoomed out to show all of Figaro’s children lined up by the dozen, gagged and blind folded, “watch each of your children die one by one. The lives of your children or the silver tongue you cherish so much, which shall it be?”

Figaro jumped for the scissors. People from the crowd jumped back in horror, some tried to stop him but could do nothing. Before even those in the front row could reach him, Figaro grabbed the scissors and severed his tongue in one strong snip. The flesh fell to the ground and streams of blood followed. Figaro’s eyes looked up hopefully. The digitized voice giggled again and shot the girl, her body thumping to the ground. Figaro shouted in horror, gurgling and screaming in pain, running his fingers through his black hair. The guttural noises barely sounded human.

“You already did it didn’t you?” said Cicero, “I’m so sorry to tell you Figaro but you’re way too late and way too predictable. Your children are already dead and have been for hours. This is just a recording so I could watch you cut your own tongue out. It seems even you were painfully easy to manipulate in the end.”

Figaro’s face showed true defeat as he fell to his knees, blood dribbling onto the floor. The monitors turned off yet again, leaving the arena completely black except for a single spotlight pointed at the entrance of the hall. A figure began walking down the stairs towards the stage.

“And yet, despite everything going exactly according to plan, I believe it is time to truly change the game. Hiding in the shadows is no longer entertaining. It is time to be a TRUE piece of this puzzle. I will be Cicero no longer. The world will know me by my true name now!”

The audience turned to look at the speaker as the light followed their trail.

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Grey ran faster and faster, he needed to tell Caliban before it was too late. He needed to know the truth!

The words rung in his head over and over.

“My dad and his gang ran outside after me, ready to beat me to death. That is when Sinclair spoke up and what he said changed my life. His words were so strange. So very strange. He said these words. Would you like to live? Choose. Your life or theirs?”

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The audience turned to look at the woman walking down the stairs, a plastic trigger in her hand.

“Hello world, I am Dandy Casanova. I am your Cicero.”