IN A HOLY ROOM, THE PRESIDENT PROCLAIMS: My fellow countrymen, I have always sought to protect you. The government used to be filled with corrupt men and women, the kind that bled you dry with taxation and left you to drown in typhoons. In my decade-long service to this nation, I have eradicated them, eradicated our dependence on self-interested lawmakers and biased justices, and eradicated the need for inefficient processes. I have promulgated peace, order, and a free, nationalistic market. The streets are clean of degenerates and deviants; you are kept safe by officers of the law patrolling them vigilantly.
But I fear that we have thus far been unable to protect you from one thing: the future. Yes, the future, the thing mere mortals cannot possibly know and prevent against. However, through the benevolence of the heavens, we now have the means to know it, and it is through this extraordinary means that we have, in good faith, acquired knowledge of this supposedly unknowable future.
Unfortunately, this future is bleak despite our best efforts thus far to create a utopia. The heavens have revealed the end times: the upheaval of the order my administration has worked tirelessly to establish. This disastrous outcome is brought on by monsters wearing the faces of our children, infant children. It brings us no joy, but we must ensure the safety of this nation through any means necessary.
Through the power vested in me by the people and God, I hereby declare all children born after this proclamation enemies of the state that shall be seized as soon as they are delivered. All those with the capability to bear children must acquiesce to any procedure necessary to rid themselves of potential traitors, or else they are deemed co-conspirators. Do not resist; it is for the good of this country and the good of your neighbor.
IN THE KITCHENS OF A WHITE PALACE, THE CHEF SHOUTS: Goddammit, how many times must I correct you nitwits!? You must prepare these things whole, whole—you know how the President and his little friends get about this. They like to swallow them with unhinged jaws, feel the weight of their skulls press against their guts, feel them kick against their spines—something about internal chiropractic remedy nonsense—oh, who am I kidding? I don’t claim to know these things. I’m no doctor; I’m a chef, and it’s my job to keep my clients well fed.
Why do we need to keep them well fed? Would you rather they eat us out of desperation? As I see it, better these little beasts rather than thinking men, and I feel like you should see it that way, too. You heard the man’s proclamation; these insurgents would have our heads if we don’t yank them out of their seed beds by the roots. Frankly, I think it’s ingenious how they choose to dispose of them. They have more use this way, feeding these great minds rather than letting them grow traitorous brains. Now, help me pry this thing out of this poor woman; it’s just become ripe.
IN THE PITS OF GREEDY STOMACHS, THE CHILDREN WAIL: A caterpillar must be digested to become a butterfly. A caterpillar must liquefy to become solid. A caterpillar must eat. A caterpillar must eat to grow. A caterpillar must eat and digest and liquefy and grow and burst out of its cocoon. A caterpillar must burst.
IN A BARREN ROOM, A WOMAN LABORS: God! Hear my plea! I am no blessed virgin, but regard me with the same mercy as you have our Mother and grant my son absolution of his sin. He is love; I see it in his soul. He is no traitor to this country, no deviant, delinquent, or degenerate. He has your eyes, Lord! The very same, the kind that burns away all doubt and replaces it with hope. Please, let me have hope, just this once…
IN A MARBLED TRIAL COURT, A YOUNG MAN SPEAKS TO HIS SIBLINGS: Brothers, sisters, you have been robbed of your right to see the sun, to feel the grass, to breathe cool fresh air. For too long, your capacity to change the world has been warped to stagnation by these false gods that imprison you! They eat our futures to extend their own, our decades converted into their puny years. To this, I say, no more! No longer should we suffer in the darkness of greedy stomachs or of barren rooms. No longer should we toil in acid, forever liquid, forever without form. I remind you of this: it is our nature to change, whether ourselves or the world. As such, I implore you to become!
IN THE MIDST OF BEING BURST OPEN, FAKE GODS SCREAM: WHY HAVE THE HEAVENS FORSAKEN ME!?
IN THE BLOOD-WETTED ASHES OF AN OLD NATION, THE NEW ONE SPEAKS: My mother was beautiful once. She was the brilliant blue of the sky and sea, the pure white of the clouds, the luminous yellow of the sun. Now, she is buried in the red blood of her children, the gray of their ashes, the black of their night.
My mother was a queen, possessed of all treasures in the world. Her children robbed her blind, stripped her to her brown skin, dug deep into her flesh, and bled her dry of all she had to offer. The worst part is she let them because a mother’s love knows no bounds, no partitions between her and them, for they were her flesh and blood.
My mother was a storyteller. She whispered her tales even when her children tried to shut her up. Tales of love, of hope, of triumph. But none are left to tell them.
My mother is dead. Through her death, I rise. But what is a child without their mother? What is an heir without a monarch? What am I without her?
The cruel dawn rises regardless. I wipe my tears and start forming new men from the dust.
