They called it the day of revelation. The day half the world learnt the names of it’s new masters.
They moved amongst us before and wove themselves into every house of power. Like the fall of the Templars on the 13th it happened in a moment of condensed violence and the new age began. While most of us were waking they were taking the lives of everyone between them and the throne.
We wanted to know how but freedom of information was a thing of the past. With their fingers on the nuke triggers they forced the surrender of anyone with the freedom to challenge their dominance. In time new ground fell the shadowy organisation.
Apart from the command system life changed slowly here. A new law was passed daily binding us to the gears and wheels of industry. Their pyramid of fear grew and spread it’s roots into society as they recruited new soldiers to enforce their worship. Obey to live, worship to live well they tell us. Too many obey.
Without war they had us all on strings, puppets dancing to their tune. Technology and educational resources were confiscated. We were told that we would only know what we needed to know which was only what we needed to serve them. As time passed and revolutionaries aplenty were executed we chose to forget that life had ever been better. Our children were not told of the world they lost to the monsters they pray to for mercy.
We are split as promised. Those who obey live in squalor and work fruitless ours in the factories. Those who chose to turn against their own in the name of their new masters were rewarded. Lavish homes and preferential access to censored technology were presented to the faithful.
There are schools of lies where our children learn that the usurpers saved us from dangerous monsters and wars to suppress our freedom.
Anyone who tells the truth is shot. The truth is dangerous. We hide it away in dark corners and whisper it to each other in memoriam of the lost age. Dissidence runs like a stain through their faithful. Double agents in their camp paint subtle reminders of the past all about in small efforts to rebellion. Their armies fight internal wars as the loyal and the spies fight it out for their cause.
Some day we’ll forget what we were fighting for. The last child that remembers the good old days will die with a foggy memory in the uniform provided by their false gods. I play the part of a faithful in hopes I can mimic their original tactic for a coup.
I might forget myself, or worse become a new monster as so many have before. Time will tell. Children will grow and age, the old will die. Some will forget.