The Reckoning Had Begun

The grand illusion was crumbling, and the pigs at the trough were squealing.

For years, the corrupt politicians had gorged themselves on the wealth and power siphoned from the people they were supposed to serve. They had feasted on lies, grown fat on deception, and wallowed in the filth of their own corruption. Every election had been a carefully scripted performance, every crisis a tool to tighten their grip. They thought themselves untouchable, above scrutiny, above the law.

But something had changed. The people—those they had long dismissed as ignorant cattle—had begun to see through the fog of propaganda. The endless gaslighting, the manufactured crises, the blatant theft disguised as policy—it had all gone on too long. And now, voices were rising in defiance.

The politicians screeched and fumed, their carefully crafted façades cracking under the weight of truth. They called the people "dangerous," "radical," "a threat to democracy"—as if democracy had not already been strangled by their own hands. They demanded silence, but the people only grew louder.

The anger of the masses was not the mindless outrage the ruling class had so often manufactured and exploited. No, this was something else. It was a fire long smothered, now roaring back to life. It was justice, long denied, clawing its way back from the grave. It was a nation remembering what it had lost—and demanding it back.

The pigs were desperate. Their gluttony had blinded them, and now they found themselves cornered. They lashed out, seeking to punish, to silence, to crush. But for the first time in years, the people did not cower. They stood firm. The feeding frenzy was over. The reckoning had begun.