_________________________________________________________________________________
The Photograph isn't mine, though the copyright was shared with me by
so that you could enjoy an
EPIC STORY
________________________________________________________________________
The Setting
Year 2080, 24th of February, Romania. Humanity has spent the last two centuries in complete moral and intellectual decline, and the last seven years were way worse than whatever anybody would have expected. Our ancestors' valuables were defiled, and people started to promote the lack of taste in everything, be it music, entertainment, even lifestyle. As the mental strength of the people has reached rock bottom, encouraged by the actions of most, a party of Illiterates assumed world leadership, imposing a reign of terror. So that nobody could rebel, the old and wise were brutally killed, taking their knowledge to their graves. In order to keep the power their own, children were encouraged to watch tv shows meant to brainwash the masses. All books were to be burned, all music that instigates to thinking was to be purged, and art as we know it was erased from the face of the earth and replaced with what used to be kitsch. The decree of 2017 claimed that all who are seen carrying books shall be publicly executed, and the books burned. However, there were some that foresaw this, and taught their young from an early age, so that they would not be lead astray by the leadership's imbecillization methods. To ensure that human culture would see this horror through, they taught them how to hide their knowledge and act like everyone else until they would gather the forces needed to deliver their generation from the once-to-set-in idiocracy.
The plot
Chapter 1 :
________________________________________________________________________________
This is the Journal of Darius Preda. I will, once again, begin this page by writing, like my old man did before me,that if this journal should be found, it should be kept a secret at all costs, until the resistance is ready to strike. Like my father, I have come of old age, and along with the benefits of a long life's wisdom, I have my body dragging me down. Even though I have lived all my life without being able to express myself as an individual other than through this journal and within the resistance, I have not lost hope. What is more, I have yet grown hopeful once again. The resistance is strong, we have managed to put together a small, but significant piece of what once amounted our culture. With the knowledge we now possess we can pose a threat to the government. Right now, though, it is still time for us to wait and see.More and more seem to be joining our cause, and some of us seem to be developing that which our parents called love. The fruit of that started to show among us. As we could not put newborns into this world, we raise them inside the resistance, watching them carefully so that they would not be endangered, and teaching them our ways and goals, should we not be able to strike within our lifetimes.
I pray to God at the very beginning and ending of my everyday, and my only prayer is that I would live to see the new world, to see my people free, to see the idiots purged from the earth, the children receiving proper education, and individuality be once again allowed. I am on a train now, I can not afford to be seen writing. As I see somebody enter the wagon, our story will have to resume another time.
________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 2 :
________________________________________________________________________
Once again, I am in the place of safety that is the resistance's headquarters.I have spoken to my lieutenant, and he is confident that we can finally make the move against the oppressors.
Even though I admire his fire, I do not share his view. He was born and grew before my eyes, and even since his parents were publicly beheaded, I took him in and raised him as my own son. He started out to become a great man, and he has achieved more in his 22 years than my own father had at that age, but he is still young, green, inexperienced. I horribly fear that he is not prepared to face the reality of what we live in. When the illiterate uprising started, even though there were some who saw it coming, even though they had an intact culture, they could not face their opponents' numbers. Although I would love him to be right, as my only wish is that our liberation was yesterday, I know for a fact that if we set out to strike now, we are doomed to extinction, and another resistance may never be formed. We are all that humanity has left, so we must proceed with extreme caution. I know better, but, from what I read, my attitude would render me as a tired old man with a stick up his ass back in my father's day, and right when I talked to Dan, my lieutenant, I feared that our different perspective would result in a disaster.
Fortunately, his father and I raised him better than that, and he finally chose to listen to the voice of reason. Slowly but steadily, we are arming ourselves, not only with knowledge, but firearms and war strategies as well. Normally, as weapons are generally easily accessible, we would just buy them, but the Council of Illiteracy would suspect us in the event that we would not use them right away. Despite the masses being idiots, those up-high are slick, and know what they raised. They know what to expect of them. Should we break the pattern, we would immediately be apprehended, so we resorted to arming ourselves our own ways.
________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 3 :
________________________________________________________________________
We thought this through. A coup d'état would not suffice to end what we find ourselves living. Romania itself, my father's country is the perfect example. We need to find a way of changing the way people think before we start to bloody our hands. The masses are just weak minds, imbeciles. Although they are in a state of indescribable moral decay, they are not yet beyond salvation. Them being weak minds means they can be shaped with ease, just like a skilled potter shapes his mud and clay to make perfect lines that others would call art. The real problem is that we need to start from the root of all evil : The Council. Out of everyone, they are the only ones so stuck in their wicked ways that nothing can move them but the fire of death. First of all, though, we would need a way to slowly force the crowds to think for themselves, without it showing on the council's radar until it will be too late for them to do anything. My Captain, 'Day, inherited from his grandfather through harsh everyday training the skill of hacking. At his initiative, we have started recording our own TV shows, creating our own websites and virtual intelligence programs, so that we could later use them as the council, switching their evil media material with our own on their own frequency. 'Day has assured me that the procedure is untraceable. Today, we have initiated it, we will wait until we see results.
________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 4 :
________________________________________________________________________
Eight Years have passed. We are now in the year 2088. Today, February 24th, I have aged 65.
The last years have been harsh to the world, but nevertheless, good to our cause. 'Day's procedure has given the first notable result two years ago, when the news announced the brutal slaughter of a eight-year old for drawing a winged slug, the representation of that which is outside reality being prohibited. We knew that day, a cold December day, on my father's anniversary, the 16th of the month, that we will one day defeat the oppression, and that that day will come soon. Over the last six years, one billion human beings have been ruthlessly butchered because of our attempt.We were in constant mourning for those whose lives were severed so abruptly, but, in the end, we coped with it, knowing that nothing great comes without great sacrifice. Even after the massacres stopped, we continue praying for the souls of those who died for the cause, whether they were aware of it or not. The sacrifices were almost unbearable, but our gamble was not short of results. The crowds were becoming more and more susceptible to our movement. After we got the hang of how our broadcasts work on them, we began to approach people, and recruit them to our orders. Once they made it within our ranks, we would commence teaching them our ways and culture, so that they would understand our cause and our goals. The resistance is now stronger than ever. We are ready to strike.
________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 5 :
________________________________________________________________________
The resistance was ready to strike and go on a full-scale war. Our numbers were good, and getting better by day, our will was strong and our faith was burning. However, seeing the way things were going, I refused to allow any more useless bloodshed. I chose a more secure path, mitigating the possible losses. Although I do not fully know what it was used for in the past, I have learned a great deal of things through my father's collection of one particular series of books : The Assassin's Creed. I learned there that numbers are not what matter, but skill. So I have given the order to assemble the best ten solders, so that their skins would be honed.
It took two more years, truth be told, but when the elite was ready, nobody in the resistance regretted trusting me with the decision I made. Even though it took a great deal of time, it seemed to have been annulled in importance considering the manpower we would have lost, would we have gone to war that day. Each of the assassins were trained specifically for one target, so that nothing would diminish their focus. There were ten in the council, and one of our men to take each of them down. Given their training, the victory over the council itself was by far the easiest part in our war. Before I gave the go signal for the assassination, though, there was one thing that needed doing. Since there was no way that the council could counterattack so quickly, we mobilized all the members of our resistance, and after i gave them a speech to boost their courage, I sent them in the world to begin the teaching of the masses. We drew forth the less subtle programmes, and, in the meanwhile, we sent the strike team. Our explosive reaction was unexpected by the council, and it acted as a diversion for them, thus giving their assassination a certain element of surprise. As expected, by the time they could do something, they were as dead as dead can be. We have succeeded. We have pulled through, the era of idiocy is ended. to this day, we are still feeling the effects of it, but we need to keep working in order to restore what we once were.
________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 6 :
________________________________________________________________________
Year 2100; February 25th; This is the Journal of Dan Ciolloi, nephew of Bogdan, stepson of Darius. We stand ten years from our liberation. Although we are now free, and still fighting to restore ourselves, much was lost. The sacrifices made to end the reign of terror left us scarred, impaired. But thanks to those who fought regardless of circumstances, we are now truly free. My beloved father passed away yesterday night, February 24th, at the age of 77, after a life of constant struggle. He struggled not for himself, but for humanity, so that we, and the generations that will come, could have a decent life. I am grateful for him, and thank God that I had a chance to say goodbye. Out of everyone that died for the cause, his sacrifice was the greatest. He took upon himself the burden of all, he did what he thought, and later proved was best, even though there was nobody to support him. Even I had not once considered him delusional or too afraid to act, when all he did was mitigating possible losses. Like the wise man he was, his final words were ones of true wisdom : " Cherish what you have, live as you would if you would die today, learn something everyday, don't be an idiot, and do not let anybody fall into this pit again, for humanity might not be able to face it." . Thus has ended the life of Darius Preda, however, he shall never be forgotten. Two years ago, the liberated raised him statues along the capitals of the world : New York, Moscow, Paris, Rome, as a reminder of the sacrifices made for all to have a free world, and of the terrors that reigned over the world for almost a century. So that he would know he was loved, he was decreed by the Vox Populi as Darius The Wise, one week before his death. I know that, knowing we have started a new world order, he died not only in peace, but with a smile on his face, bestowing upon all of us a higher power of hope.
To my son, and his son, and his sons after him, shall they come of age : Never ignore the power of information, but cherish it, and hang on to it, for not only is it the greatest power on earth, but the lack of it always causes mayhem. May this journal guide you to a life free of idiocy.
________________________________________________________________________
The end.
