Defenestrate The Masses
The Words Of Conrad Miller
“Rules abound, No more as sound As that which came before. Reluctant device For the taking of life, By running them into the ground.” These are words to an old song, the music long forgotten.The Parliament was like the song, running itself into the ground, and the ground was a long way below us. The Above was in chaos, in no small part to the machinations of one Daedalus Devereaux. He was gaining significant and decisive power, both Above and in the Riddle. Some say he even has influence in the Below, where laws and rules are as insignificant as fresh water and irradiated food. Any foot-hold in the Below would be loose, by definition.What had become more worrying was that the Gasten had stopped rising. That never happened. The world was truly in imbalance. When the Gasten didn’t fly the Prefects of the Sky didn’t swim or sing. When the Prefects didn’t sing, the world was in trouble. Many both Above and City bound drifted into panic when the Gasten didn’t fly. People didn’t like change. They idolised routine. Random elements were anathema.I had tried to get into the committee meetings, the sittings of judgement and council halls, but all were blocked to me. The initial lie I was told was that a representative of a long dead power was at most honorary, and my presence wasn’t needed, as advisory as my role was, it was more about aesthetics, less about rule. I would later learn that many of my peers, both advisors of the Builders and philosophers of the future were being interned. Digging deeper I learned they were also being questioned, the object of blame for the current predicament the world found itself in, that somehow they had instigated it with their free thought and structive ideas based on a system that no longer applied. The world was changing and people like me were being taken out. People like Devereaux were being applauded. I knew there was no place for me anymore, but I had tried to hold on to some semblance of the ideals of the Builders for as long as I could.These days I kept to my Laboratory. I was determined to complete my master plan before I too was carted away to a long strung out death. I would experiment, act by trial and error. Many times I failed. Too many times. I became demoralised and I felt the hounds sniffing at my heels, teeth ready to clamp down on my soft flesh and take a chunk from my only real contribution to the world. I failed, of course, but I pushed on, even when it felt all was lost. I would hide, I would sometimes destroy my work to date just to remain unnoticed. I would start again from scratch, get so far, fail, hide, destroy. It was an endless stream of demoralisation and disappointments with a cursed path of corruptive play and experimented failure.In the end the only thing that kept me going was the undefeatable knowledge I was right, I was correct, and in my assumptions I carried the core of that which remained so true; the knowledge of the Builders. After all, they built me.
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