Creative

The sickness came fast and terrifying—at least, that’s what the broadcasts claimed. The Department of Health issued urgent warnings. Fever, coughing fits, rashes that spread overnight. No one knew where it had started, but suddenly it was everywhere. Sanctuary cities were the most affected. Migrant populations were the hardest hit. Dissenters were dying at ten times the normal rate. Yet the Chairman’s inner circle, the elite of the Black Circle, suffered no losses.

In an act of pure defiance, televisions at HUD’s central office in Washington, D.C., were hijacked, broadcasting an AI-generated nightmare for the regime. The Chairman, on his knees, worshiping Vail’s feet, a grotesque display of submission, looped endlessly while bewildered staff scrambled to shut it down. Above it, emblazoned in bright letters: LONG LIVE THE REAL KING.