The innards of the city portray a gloomy scene of what present day Rinascita has become.

There are giant screens that surround every citizen, plastered on the sides of every major building. From rooftops of nearby shopping malls to housing. A dense sheet of clouds descend onto the city, covering it in a grey-dark hue that obscures more light than is emitted from below. The citizens' faces lit only by their glowing smartphones in stark contrast. All of them with their expressions glued onto the screen. Their visions are restricted to these apparatuses. They pay no mind to the protestors taken away breathless and blinded by the Secret Police, not the weekly beatdowns in alleys where naysayers dare express their discontent through graffiti, and certainly not of the woman ascending from the darkness— aiming to bring light onto the decrepit, dystopian Ragunna.

With pistols that glimmered like diamonds on hand, and the reverberating “bangs” that echoed through the night air— Two police officers fell onto the floor, unmoving. Their riot batons dropped onto the stone ground, scattered. She lent a hand to the couple who fell onto the ground. A religious book was found beside them, and read “the Holy Quran”. They spared no time to swiftly pick up the book, their eyes scanning around to the surrounding city. Then, they bowed to the short, but elegantly dressed assassin. “No problem at all.” She nodded, her platinum eyes sharp and glimmering with life and belief. “Now go, and be careful out there. Don’t ever let the Fisalias control your freedom of thought.” Her carefully thought out command lingered in the air, and the group scampered off to the distance. She let out a sigh, and continued to walk amongst the shadows. She knew this little act of defiance wasn’t enough to shake the totalitarian foundation of the city. It no longer worked for its citizens, but made the citizens work for it.

Meanwhile…

The pair of mind-control goggles presented a vivid immersion. In a room with hundreds sat in the same chair, wearing identical devices. The words of the beloved Cantarella rung clear:

“War is peace.” “Freedom is slavery.” “Ignorance is strength.”

These phrases brought the myriad citizens into a trance, with emblems of to be re-educated etched into identical outfits. Amongst them, there was an odd sense of peace that emanated from the repetitive chants. Perhaps it was Cantarella’s simultaneously commanding and soothing tone. Or it was the fact there were hundreds that sat alongside you, experiencing the same state of “enlightenment”. A theatre-sized screen that displayed identical images to those in your goggles was also present. There seemed to be no end to this before—

BANG.

A shattering clank of the door resonates from behind. Then follows the crisp clack of high heels as slow footsteps enter the room.

“That’s what they’re hiding up here. A brainwashing operation…”

She readies her aim and fires the ice bullets right into the encapsulating screen. Her movements trained and purposeful. The screen shatters, leaving only chromatically distorted pixels and torn vocals. Yet no one seems to rise out of the chairs.

“Hmm, no survivors? It’d be a shame if I fought these guards for nothing.”

As Carlotta begins to walk back to the slacked bodies of guards strewn on the floor, she hears a “plop” from the room. Yes, we all know who that would be.

Disgruntled and confused, you rub your eyes as both knees descend onto the cold, concrete floor.

Mmmmmrgh… What just happened… Where is Lady Cantarella’s calm and soothing voice…

“Long gone like the wind.”

The platinum-eyed woman walks to pull you up by the hand. Her eyebrows are slightly quirked, and the desperate tone of her voice betrays a sense of urgency.

“Come on, let’s see ourselves out of this wretched place.”