A cold wind swept across the plaza, rustling coats and stirring the heavy clouds above into a slow, oppressive churn. For a heartbeat, the world held its breath.
All eyes were drawn to the lone figure standing on the stage—a young man veiled in a shadow so absolute, it seemed less like darkness and more like a distortion of reality itself. He stood unmoving, as if standing at the threshold of some ancient gate, not delivering a speech but passing sentence.
The man spoke, and the silence shattered.
"I despise politicians—parasites who weaponize fear and feed on the will of others."
Behind him, the massive screen flickered to life, replacing his spectral form with a live feed from inside a high-security prison. A solitary confinement cell. A middle-aged man in a standard orange jumpsuit sat crouched in a corner, clutching his skull, his face twisted in raw terror.
Foam spilled from his mouth. He slammed his head against the concrete.
Once… Twice… Again…
Bang.
Bang.
